Robert Frost Quotes
''I was to taste in little the griefRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "One More Brevity."
That comes of dogs' lives being so brief....''
''Poor egotist, he has no way of knowingRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. Ten Mills, "VI. Waspish."
But he's as good as anybody going.''
''Visions of half the world burned blackRobert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Gum-Gatherer."
And the sun shrunken yellow in smoke.''
''What we live by we die by.''Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Self-Seeker."
''What things for dream there are when specter-like,Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Waiting."
Moving among tall haycocks lightly piled,
I enter alone upon the stubble field....''
''“In three words I can sum up everything Ive learned about life: it goes on.” ''
''“These woods are lovely, dark and deep,Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.” ''
''“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.” ''
''“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” ''
''“A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.” ''
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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 ...
A Time To Talk
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,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall