Robert Frost Quotes
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We disparage reason. But all the time it's what we're most concerned with. There's will as motor and there's will as brakes. Reason is, I suppose, the steering gear.
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In heaven we are all ghostwriters, if we write at all.
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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
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It's a funny thing that when a man hasn't anything on earth to worry about, he goes off and gets married.
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When I see birches bend to left and right... I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
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Both T.S. Eliot and I like to play, but I like to play euchre, while he likes to play Eucharist.
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They would not find me changed from him they knew - only more sure of all I thought was true.
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Our life runs down in sending up the clock. The brook runs down in sending up our life. The sun runs down in sending up the brook. And there is something sending up the sun.
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Butterflies...flowers that fly and all but sing.
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I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world.
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The artist in me cries out for design.
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Earth's the right place for love. I don't know where it's likely to go better.
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Oh, come forth into the storm and rout And be my love in the rain.
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He says the best way out is always through. And I can agree to that, or in so far / As that I can see no way out but through.
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States strong enough to do good are but few. Their number would seem limited to three.
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It looked as if a night of dark intent was coming, and not only a night, an age. Someone had better be prepared for rage...
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Originality and initiative are what I ask for my country.
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A mother takes twenty years to make a man of her boy, and another woman makes a fool of him in twenty minutes.
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Style is that which indicates how the writer takes himself and what he is saying. It is the mind skating circles around itself as it moves forward.
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Keats mourned that the rainbow, which as a boy had been for him a magic thing, had lost its glory because the physicists had found it resulted merely from the refraction of the sunlight by the raindrops. Yet knowledge of its causation could not spoil the rainbow for me. I am sure that it is not given to man to be omniscient. There will always be something left to know, something to excite the imagination of the poet and those attuned to the great world in which they live.
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When clever people ask me where I get a poem, I despair.
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We're either nothing or a God's regret.
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Americans are like a rich father who wishes he knew how to give his son the hardships that made him rich.
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Memento mori and obey the Lord. Art and religion love the somber chord.