by Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
Assent -- and you are sane -- , demur -- you're straightway dangerous -- , and handled with a Chain -- .
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so this side the victory!
A word is dead when it is said. Some say. I say it just, begins to live that day.