"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"I SEE thee better in the dark, I do not need a light. The love of thee a prism be Excelling violet. I see thee better for the years That hunch themselves between, The miner’s lamp sufficient be To nullify the mine. And in the grave I see thee best— Its little panels be A-glow, all ruddy with the light I held so high for thee! What need of day to those whose dark Hath so surpassing sun, It seem it be continually At the meridian?"
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Source: Emily Dickinson (1998). “The Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.470, Harvard University Press
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