"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"Pain - has an Element of Blank It cannot recollect When it begun - or if there were a time when it was not - It has no Future - but itself - Its Infinite contain Its Past - enlightened to perceive New Periods - of Pain."
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Source: Emily Dickinson, Ralph William Franklin (1998). “The Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.719, Harvard University Press
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