Robert Frost

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

Robert Frost Quotes

  • ''The only house
    Beyond where they were was a shattered seedpod.
    And below roared a brook hidden in trees,
    The sound of which was silence for the place.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Generations of Men."
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  • ''These anyway might think it was important
    That human history should not be shortened.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Planners."
  • ''Love and forgetting might have carried them
    A little further up the mountainside
    With night so near, but not much further up.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Two Look at Two."
  • ''I have safely trodden underfoot the leaves of another year.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Leaf-Treader."
  • ''When a friend calls to me from the road
    And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
    I don't stand still and look around
    On all the hills I haven't hoed....''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "A Time to Talk."
  • ''The way a crow
    Shook down on me
    The dust of snow
    From a hemlock tree.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Dust of Snow (l. 1-4). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
  • ''I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
    Or those should not set forth upon my track
    To overtake me, who should miss me here
    And long to know if still I held them dear.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Into My Own."
  • ''The waste of moments sleeping,
    The waste of pleasure weeping,
    By denying and ignoring
    The waste of nations warring.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "November."
  • ''I detest the thought of him
    With his ten children under ten years old.
    I hate his wretched little Racker Sect,
    All's ever I heard of it, which isn't much.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Snow."
  • ''What will we come to
    With all this pride of ancestry, we Yankees?
    I think we're all mad.''
    Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Generations of Men."

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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

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

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