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"An ant on the tablecloth
Ran into a dormant moth
Of many times his size.
He showed not the least surprise.
His business wasn't with such.
He gave it scarcely a touch,"
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Departmental (l. 1-6). . .
The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt. |
"You don't have to deserve your mother's love. You have to deserve your father's. He's more particular.... The father is always a Republican towards his son, and his mother's always a Democrat."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Interview in Writers at Work, Second Series, ed. George Plimpton (1963). |
"The only person really soiled with trade
I ever stumbled on in old New Hampshire
Was someone who had just come back ashamed
From selling things in California."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "New Hampshire." |
"The universe may or may not be very immense.
As a matter of fact there are times when I am apt
To feel it close in tight against my sense
Like a caul in which I was born and still am wrapped."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Skeptic." |
""But it's nonsense to think he'd care enough."
"You mean you couldn't understand his caring.
Oh, but you see he hadn't had enough....""
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Fear." |
"One had to be versed in country things
Not to believe the phoebes wept."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Need of Being Versed in Country Things (l. 23-24). . .
The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt. |
"'Twas something we knew all about to begin with
And needn't have fared into space like his master
To find 'twas the effort, the essay of love."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Too Anxious for Rivers." |
"And he said, "That ought to make you
An ideal one-girl farm,
And give you a chance to put some strength
On your slim-jim arm.""
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Girl's Garden." |
"The best way out is always through."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. A Servant to Servants, North of Boston (1914). |
"And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less—"
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Desert Places (l. 9-10). . .
The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt. |
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