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"There's nothing wicked in Shakespeare, and if there is I don't want to know it."
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"Again, all of life presents us with two basic ways to treat events. We can either label them 'god for us' or 'bad for us.' The event is only an event. It's how we treat the event that determines what it becomes in our lives. The event doesn't make that determination - we do."

"All worthy work is open to interpretations the author did not intend. Art isn't your pet -- it's your kid. It grows up and talks back to you."

"Laws should be interpreted in a liberal sense so that their intention may be preserved."

"They don't directly listen to you.They just hear things within their minds that triggered by your words."

"In effect, painting is the still memory of [the artist's] human motion, and our individual responses to it depend on who we are, on our character, which underlines the simple truth that no person leaves himself behind in order to look at a painting."

"I blamed the Bible,when its words were not at fault,only the way they're interpretedby those too willingto wield them like chain saws,cutting others off at the knees."

"What's writ is what's read, yet the meaning is gone, since context is what gives each quote its own home."

"All meanings, we know, depend on the key of interpretation."

"Not everything written on Kafka is Kafkology. How then to define Kafkology? By a tautology: Kafkology is discourse for Kafkologizing Kafka. For replacing Kafka with the Kafkologized Kafka."

"If you take myth and folklore, and these things that speak in symbols, they can be interpreted in so many ways that although the actual image is clear enough, the interpretation is infinitely blurred, a sort of enormous rainbow of every possible colour you could imagine."
Explore more quotes by Emily Dickinson

"Love is anterior to life, posterior to death, initial of creation, and the exponent of breath."

"Her breast is fit for pearls,But I was not a "Diver" - Her brow is fit for thronesBut I have not a crest,Her heart is fit for home-I- a Sparrow- build thereSweet of twigs and twineMy perennial nest."

"In lands I never saw, they say, Immortal Alps look down,Whose bonnets touch the firmament,Whose sandals touch the town, -Meek at whose everlasting feetA myriad daisies play.Which, sir, are you, and which am I.Upon an August day?"

"Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away."
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