"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"Till the first friend dies, we think our ecstasy impersonal, but then discover that he was the cup from which we drank it, itself as yet unknown."
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Source: Emily Dickinson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Emily Dickinson (Illustrated)”, p.2352, Delphi Classics
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