"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"Vinnie rocks her Garden and moans that God won't help her. I suppose he is too busy getting angry with the Wicked every day."
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Source: Emily Dickinson, Ralph William Franklin (1999). “The Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.310, Harvard University Press
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