Robert Frost Quotes
''To market 'tis our destiny to go.''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
''I verily believeRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Happiness Makes Up in Height for What It Lacks in Length."
My fair impression may
Be all from that one day
No shadow crossed but ours....''
''Before I built a wall I'd ask to knowRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Mending Wall (l. 32-36). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.'''
''Somewhere must be the grave of the young boyRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Place for a Third."
Who married her for playmate more than helpmate,
And sometimes laughed at what it was between them.''
''"Why wouldn't it scare me to have a fireRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bonfire."
Begin in smudge with ropy smoke, and know
That still, if I repent, I may recall it,
But in a moment not: a little spurt
Of burning fatness, and then nothing but
The fire itself can put it out, and that
By burning out...."''
''We can't appraise the time in which we act.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Lesson for Today."
But for the folly of it, let's pretend
We know enough to know it for adverse.
One more millennium's about to end.''
''The light of heaven falls whole and whiteRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Trial by Existence."
And is not shattered into dyes....''
''Far as we aim our signs to reach,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Missive Missile."
Far as we often make them reach,
Across the soul-from-soul abyss,
There is an aeon-limit set
Beyond which they are doomed to miss.''
''There's no such thing as socialism pureRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
Except as an abstraction of the mind.
There's only democratic socialism,
Monarchic socialism, oligarchic
The last being what they seem to have in Russia.''
''"There's something I should like to ask you, dear."Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Home Burial."
"You don't know how to ask it."
"Help me, then."
Her fingers moved the latch for all reply.''
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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.