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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those we have personality and emotion know what it means to want to escape from these things.Best?
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That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet.Best?
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We turn not older with years, but newer every day.Best?
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The mere sense of living is joy enough.Best?
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They say that God is everywhere, and yet we always think of Him as somewhat of a recluse.Best?
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To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.Best?
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Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.Best?
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Because I could not stop for DeathBest?
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I dwell in possiblities.Best?
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Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need to know of hell.Best?
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A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King.Best?
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My friends are my estate.Best?
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Hope is a thing with feathersBest?
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Anger as soon as fed is dead - 'Tis starving makes it fat.Best?
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Success is counted sweetest by those who ne'er succeed.Best?
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Anger as soon as fed is dead-Best?
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If I can stop one Heart from breakingBest?
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Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the words without the tune, and never stops at all.Best?
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I dwell in possibility...Best?
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...the fog is rising.Best?
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There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons-- That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes--Best?
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I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.Best?
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