Robert Frost Quotes
''Apples? New Hampshire has them, but unsprayed,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "New Hampshire."
With no suspicion in stem end or blossom end
Of vitriol or arsenate of lead,
And so not good for anything but cider.''
''But no, he only said,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Snow."
"Well, there's the storm. That says I must go on.
That wants me as a war might if it came.
Ask any man."''
''"... There's more in it than you're inclined to say.Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Fear."
Did he look like ?"
"He looked like anyone.
I'll never rest tonight unless I know.
Give me the lantern."''
''At the end of the rowRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Objection to Being Stepped On."
I stepped on the toe
Of an unemployed hoe.''
''It may be a mercy the dark closes round usRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Too Anxious for Rivers."
So broodingly soon in every direction.''
''And she never sins by telling the taleRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Girl's Garden."
To the same person twice.''
''His work's a man's, of course, from sun to sun,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Servant to Servants."
But he works when he works as hard as I do
Though there's small profit in comparisons.
(Women and men will make them all the same.)''
''I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Design (l. 1-4). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth
Assorted characters of death and blight''
''I wish that everything on earth were justRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "In the Home Stretch."
As certain as the meals we've had. I wish
The meals we haven't had were, anyway.''
''Just specimens is all New Hampshire has,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. New Hampshire (1923).
One each of everything as in a show-case
Which naturally she doesn't care to sell.''
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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.