Robert Frost Quotes
''Haven't you heard, though,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bonfire."
About the ships where war has found them out
At sea, about the towns where war has come
Through opening clouds at night with droning speed
Further o'erhead than all but stars and angels
And children in the ships and in the towns?''
''I would have written of me on my stone:Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Lesson for Today."
I had a lover's quarrel with the world.''
''Even the bravest that are slainRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Trial by Existence."
Shall not dissemble their surprise
On waking to find valor reign,
Even as on earth, in paradise....''
''Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down.''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Address, May 17, 1935, Milton Academy, Massachusetts.
''Four or five whippoorwillsRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Nature Note."
Have come down from their native ledge
To the open country edge
To give us a piece of their bills.''
''Steal away and stay away.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
Don't join too many gangs. Join few if any.
Join the United States and join the family
But not much in between unless a college.''
''A man must partly give up being a manRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Home Burial."
''Something there is that doesn't love a wall,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Mending Wall, North of Boston (1914).
And wants it down.''
''And weren't there special cemetery flowers,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Place for a Third."
That, once grief sets to growing, grief may rest:
The flowers will go on with grief awhile,
And no one seem neglecting or neglected?
A prudent grief will not despise such aids.''
''"Oh, let's go up the hill and scare ourselves,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Bonfire."
As reckless as the best of them tonight,
By setting fire to all the brush we piled
With pitchy hands to wait for rain or snow...."''
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