Good Quote

‎"He fumbles at your soul/As players at the keys/before they drop full music on/He stuns you by degrees./Prepares your brittle nature/for the ethereal blow/By fainter hammers further heard, then nearer, then...so slow./Your breath has time to straighten/Your brain to bubble cool/Deals one imperial thunderbolt/That scalps your naked soul./When winds take forests in their paws/The universe is still." ~Emily Dickinson