This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
It was a clear, moonlit night a little after the tenth of the Eighth Month. Her Majesty, who was residing in the Empress's Office, sat by the edge of the veranda while Ukon no Naishi played the flute for her. The other ladies in attendance sat together, talking and laughing; but I stayed by myself, leaning against one of the pillars between the main hall and the veranda. 'Why so silent?' said Her Majesty. 'Say something. It is sad when you do not speak.' 'I am gazing at the autumn moon,' I replied. 'Ah yes,' she remarked. 'That is just what you should have said.
Shine comforts from the east, That I may back to Athens by daylight From these that my poor company detest; And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
Art | Beauty | Death | Enough | Evil | Father | Fortune | God | Good | Government | Heart | Rage | Shame | Tears | Vengeance | Virtue | Virtue | Government | Art | Beauty | God |
Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the King my father's wrack, This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air.
And that wretched creature without hands or feet, who had to be put to bed and fed like a child, that pitiable remnant of a man, whose almost vanished life was nothing more than one scream of pain, cried out in furious indignation: 'What a fool one must be to go and kill oneself!' - 'Joy of Life
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
I'll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, the news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, the bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, That must have been the sun!
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
Nature and Books belong to the eyes that see them.
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
They might not need me; but they might. I'll let my head be just in sight; a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
Oh! dreadful is the check - intense the agony - / When the ear begins to hear, and the eye begins to see; when the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again; / The soul to feel the flesh, and the flesh to feel the chain.
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same
Quiet |
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
Yes,' said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair, 'if I could only get papa's consent, I'd spend half my time with you - Pretty Linton! I wish you were my brother.'
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. If all else perished and he remained, I should still continue to be, and if all else remained, and we were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger. He’s always, always in my mind; not as a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
The world is for me a hideous collection of memorabilia telling me she lived and I have lost her.
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be miserable than that he should be — that proves I love him better than myself.
Passion | Superstition |
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
Well, I love the ground he walks on and the air around him and everything he touches, and everything he says. I like the features of it and all its actions; like him around. Ready!
Joining one heading to another in discussion, not completing one path (of discourse) . . . for it is right to say what is excellent twice and even thrice.