Robert Frost Quotes
''It is blue-butterfly day here in spring....''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Blue-Butterfly Day."
''A note as from a single place,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Going for Water."
A slender tinkling fall that made
Now drops that floated on the pool
Like pearls, and now a silver blade.''
''For I thought Epicurus and LucretiusRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Lucretius Versus the Lake Poets."
By Nature meant the Whole Goddam Machinery.''
''Pan came out of the woods one dayRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Pan With Us."
His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray....''
''She had some art of hearing and yet notRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Black Cottage."
Hearing the latter wisdom of the world.''
''Take care to sell your horse before he dies. The art of life is passing losses on.''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Ingenuities of Debt," The Poetry of Robert Frost (1979).
''The final flat of the hoe's approval stampRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Strong Are Saying Nothing."
Is reserved for the bed of a few selected seed.''
''She's a woman: she's not interestedRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Masque of Reason."
In general ideas and principles.''
''At least I will not have it systematic.''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Boeotian."
''The well was dry beside the door,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Going for Water."
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran....''
Read more quotations »
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come ...
After Apple Picking
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still.
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples; I am drowsing off.
I cannot shake the shimmer from my sight