“A wounded deer leaps highest, I've heard the hunter tell; 'Tis but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs,, A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings Mirth is mail of anguish, In which its cautious arm Lest anybody spy the blood And, you're hurt exclaim.” StillsHurtHeardBloodRocksArmsHighestSpringAbuseLeapEcstasyMailCheeksWoundedSteelAnguishHuntersSpyCautiousDeerMirthBrakeHecticSmitten Book:The Works of Emily Dickinson Source: The Works of Emily Dickinson
“We should all die with a sharp, brusque heart attack. My father was lucky like that. One day he went hunting. He had a good day, he killed a lot of game, he was with his best friends. He said, "Ah, I'm still a good hunter." Then he said, "I don't feel well," and in 30 seconds it was all over.” FeelsShouldWellsHeartSaidStillsDiesFatherGamesOne DayLuckySecondsHuntingHuntersGood DayHeart Attack Author:Alain Resnais