The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.

Category Emily Dickinson

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.

Wait till the Majesty of Death

Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till in Everlasting Robes That Democrat is dressed, Then prate about “Preferment”— And “Station,” and the rest! Around…

Victory comes late,

Victory comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost To take it. How sweet it would have tasted, Just a drop! Was God so economical? His table’s spread too high for us Unless we dine…

Upon Concluded Lives

Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls— Make Lacerating Tune— To Ears the Dying Side— ‘Tis Coronal—and Funeral— Saluting—in the Road—

Unto my Books—so good to turn

Unto my Books—so good to turn— Far ends of tired Days— It half endears the Abstinence— And Pain—is missed—in Praise— As Flavors—cheer Retarded Guests With Banquettings to be— So Spices—stimulate the time Till my small Library— It may be Wilderness—without—…

Unto Me? I do not know you—

“Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”— Wagons—have you—to convey me? This is far from Thence— “Arms of Mine—sufficient Phaeton— Trust Omnipotence”— I am spotted—”I am Pardon”— I…

Unto like Story—Trouble has enticed me

Unto like Story—Trouble has enticed me— How Kinsmen fell— Brothers and Sister—who preferred the Glory— And their young will Bent to the Scaffold, or in Dungeons—chanted— Till God’s full time— When they let go the ignominy—smiling— And Shame went still—…

Unit, like Death, for Whom?

Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him— The Grave is strict— Tickets admit Just two—the Bearer— And the Borne— And seat—just One— The Living—tell— The Dying—but a Syllable— The Coy Dead—None—…

Unfulfilled to Observation

Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality— Unto Us—the Suns extinguish— To our Opposite— New Horizons—they embellish— Fronting Us—with Night.

Under the Light, yet under

Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root, Further than Arm could stretch Were it Giant long, Further than Sunshine could Were the Day Year long, Over the Light,…