"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"I . . . am small, like the wren, and my hair is bold like the chestnut burr; and my eyes like the sherry in the glass that the guest leaves."
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Source: Emily Dickinson, Martha Dickinson Bianchi (1971). “The Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson”, p.241, Biblo & Tannen Publishers
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