Robert Frost Quotes
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One luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
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Humour is the most engaging cowardice. With it myself I have been able to hold some of my enemy in play far out of gunshot.
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The father is always a Republican toward his son, and his mother's always a Democrat.
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The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader.
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Poetry is the renewal of words, setting them free, and that's what a poet is doing: loosening the words.
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I shall set forth for somewhere, I shall make the reckless choice Some say when they are in voice And tossing so as to scare The white clouds over them on, I shall have less to say, But I shall be none.
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Don't be agnostic - be something.
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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.
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Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.
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Leaves and bark, leaves and bark, To lean against and hear in the dark. Petals I may have once pursued. Leaves are all my darker mood.
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Keep all ur troubles in ur own pocket. But, make sure that the pocket has a hole!
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You can't trust God to be unmerciful. There you have the beginning of all wisdom.
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The Moon for all her light and grace Has never learned to know her place.
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I end not far from my going forth By picking the faded blue Of the last remaining aster flower To carry again to you.
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Two such as you with such a master speed, cannot be parted nor be swept away, from one another once you are agreed, that life is only life forevermore, together wing to wing and oar to oar.
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The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader. I know people who read without hearing the sentence sounds and they were the fastest readers. Eye readers we call them. They get the meaning by glances. But they are bad readers because they miss the best part of what a good writer puts into his work.
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I fail to see what fun, what satisfaction / A God can find in laughing at how badly / Men fumble at the possibilities...
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Memento mori and obey the Lord. Art and religion love the somber chord.
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Courage is of the heart by derivation, And great it is. But fear is of the soul.
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I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place?
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That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.
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My definition of poetry (if I were forced to give one) would be this: words that have become deeds.
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Hell is a half-filled auditorium.
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There is little much beyond the grave, but the strong are saying nothing until they see.