Robert Frost Quotes
''Strange how such innocence gets its own way.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Black Cottage."
I shouldn't be surprised if in this world
It were the force that would at last prevail.''
''And were an epitaph to be my storyRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Lesson for Today, A Witness Tree (1942).
I'd have a short one ready for my own.
I would have written of me on my stone:
I had a lover's quarrel with the world.''
''"A sigh for every so many breath,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Times Table."
And for every so many sigh a death.
That's what I always tell my wife
Is the multiplication table of life."''
''America is hard to see.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "America Is Hard to See."
Less partial witnesses than he
In book on book have testified
They could not see it from outside....''
''Faster or slower as he chanced,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Brown's Descent."
Sitting or standing as he chose,
According as he feared to risk
His neck, or thought to spare his clothes.''
''Was there ever a cause too lost,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Hannibal."
Ever a cause that was lost too long....''
''We met. But allRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Meeting and Passing."
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less than two
But more than one as yet.''
''It is right in thereRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Peril of Hope."
Betwixt and between
The orchard bare
And the orchard green....''
''And oh, I knew, I knew,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bonfire."
And said out loud, I couldn't bide the smother
And heat so close in; but the thought of all
The woods and town on fire by me, and all
The town turned out to fight for me that held me.''
''If this uncertain age in which we dwellRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Lesson for Today."
Were really as dark as I hear sages tell,
And I convinced that they were really sages,
I should not curse myself with it to hell....''
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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 ...
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.