We never know how high we are. Till we are called to rise; And then, if we are true to plan, Our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite. Would be a daily thing, Did not ourselves the cubits warp. For fear to be a king.
Emily DickinsonAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: December 10, 1830
- Died: May 15, 1886
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Deprived of their newspapers or a novel, reading-addicts will fall back onto cookery books, on the literature which is wrapped around bottles of patent medicine, on those instructions for keeping the contents crisp which are printed on the outside of boxes of breakfast cereals. On anything.
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