Robert Frost

(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Robert Frost Quotes

  • ''And work was little in the house,
    She was free,''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Hill Wife, "V. The Impulse."
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  • ''"... He thinks you ought to pay me for my flowers.
    You don't know what I mean about the flowers.
    Don't stop to try to now. You'll miss your train.
    Good-by." He flung his arms around his face.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Self-Seeker."
  • ''When I was young my teachers were the old.
    I gave up fire for form till I was cold.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "What Fifty Said."
  • ''The artist in me cries out for design.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Masque of Reason."
  • ''When I see birches bend to left and right
    Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
    I like to think some boy's been swinging them.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Birches (l. 1-3). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
  • ''Summoning artists to participate
    In the august occasions of the state
    Seems something artists ought to celebrate.
    Today is for my cause a day of days.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "For John F. Kennedy His Inauguration."
  • ''Till we came to be
    There was not a trace
    Of a thinking race
    Anywhere in space.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Kitty Hawk."
  • ''This I saw when waking late,
    Going by at a railroad rate,
    Looking through wreaths of engine smoke
    Far into the lives of other folk.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "On the Heart's Beginning to Cloud the Mind."
  • ''Mrs. Baptiste came in and rocked a chair
    That had as many motions as the world:''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Ax-Helve."
  • ''It was too lonely for her there,
    And too wild,
    And since there were but two of them,
    And no child....''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Hill Wife, "V. The Impulse."

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Best Poem of Robert Frost

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 ...

Read the full of The Road Not Taken

Out, Out

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.

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