Robert Frost Quotes
''With their ever breaking newnessRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Courage to Be New."
And their courage to be new.''
''"... The slave will never thank his manumitter;Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Literate Farmer and the Planet Venus."
Which often makes the manumitter bitter."''
''"The best way to hate is the worst.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Vindictives."
'Tis to find what the hated need,
Never mind of what actual worth,
And wipe that out of the earth.
Let them die of unsatisfied greed...."''
''Than smoke and mist who better could appraiseRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Cabin in the Clearing."
The kindred spirit of an inner haze?''
''Arguments too stale to mentionRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "An Importer."
'Gainst American invention
Most of all the mass production
Destined to prove our destruction.''
''Before now poetry has taken noticeRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
Of wars, and what are wars but politics
Transformed from chronic to acute and bloody?''
''What an exciting age it is we live inRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "How Hard It Is to Keep From Being King When It's in You and in the Situation."
With all this talk about the hope of youth
And nothing made of youth.''
''Thin emulous fond flowers are dead, too,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "My Butterfly."
And the daft sun-assaulter, he
That frighted thee so oft, is fled or dead....''
''Better to go down dignifiedRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Provide, Provide (l. 19-21). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
With boughten friendship at your side
Than none at all. Provide, provide!''
''Something inspires the only cow of lateRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Cow in Apple Time (l. 1-3). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
To make no more of a wall than an open gate,
And think no more of wall-builders than fools.''
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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.