"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I They may take the trifle Termed mortality!"
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Source: Emily Dickinson, Ralph William Franklin (1999). “The Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.39, Harvard University Press
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