Robert Frost Quotes
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I could give all to Time except--except What I myself have held.
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Nature is always hinting at us. It hints over and over again. And suddenly we take the hint.
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Never discuss the poem you contemplate writing. It's like turning on the outside spigot. It takes all the pressure off the upstairs bathroom.
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A poet never takes notes. You never take notes in a love affair.
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God made a beauteous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden He brought mankind to live, And said "To you, my children, These lovely flowers I give. Prune ye my vines and fig trees, With care my flowers tend, But keep the pathway open Your home is at the end." God's Garden
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I never feel more at home than at a ballgame.
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The truly educated can listen to any view without losing their temper or self-confidence.
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How are we to write The Russian novel in America As long as life goes so unterribly?
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Writing a poem is discovering.
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Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves.
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Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.
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Poets like Shakespeare know more about poetry than any $25 an hour man.
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Love has earth to which she clings....
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Why make so much of fragmentary blue. In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
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The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day. When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, a cloud come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.
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The only way around is through.
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'Warm in December, cold in June, you say?' I don't suppose the water's changed at all. You and I know enough to know it's warm Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm. But all the fun's in how you say a thing.
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I am glad the invitation pleases your family. It will please my family to the fourth generation and my family of friends and, were they living, it would have pleased inordinately the kind of Grover Cleveland Democrats I had for parents.
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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 For a friendly visit.
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No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
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Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today; And give us not to think so far away As the uncertain harvest; keep us here All simply in the springing of the year. Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white, Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night; And make us happy in the happy bees, The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
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He burned his house down for the fire insurance and spent the proceeds on a telescope.
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The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.
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No wonder poets sometimes have to seem. So much more business-like than business men./ Their wares are so much harder to get rid of.