Robert Frost Quotes
''"... You could sit there with the stains on your shoesRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Home Burial.
Of the fresh earth from your own baby's grave
And talk about your everyday concerns.
You had stood the spade up against the wall
Outside there in the entry, for I saw it."''
''And as it measured in her calipers,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Moon Compasses."
The mountain stood exalted in its place.
So love will take between the hands a face. . . .''
''I never dared be radical when youngRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Precaution, A Further Range (1936).
For fear it would make me conservative when old.''
''"Weren't you relieved to find he wasn't dead?"Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Code."
"No! and yet I don't know it's hard to say.
I went about to kill him fair enough."
"You took an awkward way. Did he discharge you?"
"Discharge me? No! He knew I did just right."''
''Here come the line-gang pioneering by.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Line-Gang."
They throw a forest down less cut than broken.
They plant dead trees for living, and the dead
They string together with a living thread.''
''He took him down below a cramping rafter,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Vanishing Red."
And showed him, through a manhole in the floor,
The water in desperate straits like frantic fish,
Salmon and sturgeon, lashing with their tails.''
''The brook was thrownRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Brook in the City."
Deep in a sewer dungeon under stone
In fetid darkness still to live and run....''
''Everything was there,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Never Naught Song."
Every single thing
Waiting was to bring,
Clear from hydrogen
All the way to men.''
''There is no love.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
There's only love of men and women, love
Of children, love of friends, of men, of God:
Divine love, human love, parental love,
Roughly discriminated for the rough.''
''Tell me about it if it's something human.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Home Burial."
Let me into your grief.''
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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 ...
As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music -- hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.
Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.