Robert Frost Quotes
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Style is less the man than the way a man takes himself.
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Unless you are educated in metaphor, you are not safe to be let loose in the world.
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In heaven we are all ghostwriters, if we write at all.
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For I thought Epicurus and Lucretius By Nature meant the Whole Goddam Machinery.
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It is only a moment here and a moment there that the greatest writer has. Some cognizance of the fact must be taken in your teaching.
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Nobody was ever meant, To remember or invent, What he did with every cent.
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What is done is done for the love of it- or not really done at all.
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A definite purpose, like blinders on a horse, inevitably narrows its possessor's point of view.
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Modern poets talk against business, poor things, but all of us write for money. Beginners are subjected to trial by market.
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A liberal is a man too broadminded to take his own side in a quarrel.
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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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You've got to love what's lovable, and hate what's hateable. It takes brains to see the difference.
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A man has got to keep his extrication. The important thing is not to get bogged down In what he has to do to earn a living....
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Here are your waters and your watering place. Drink and be whole again beyond confusion.
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The Vermont mountains stretch extended straight; New Hampshire mountains curl up in a coil.
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There are three things, after all, that a poem must reach: the eye, the ear, and what we may call the heart or the mind. It is the most important of all to reach the heart of the reader.
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Oh, come forth into the storm and rout And be my love in the rain.
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Come grow old with me, for the best is yet to come!
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A champion of the working class has never been known to die of overwork.
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I am not a teacher. I am an awakener.
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Life is tons of discipline. Your first discipline is your vocabulary; then your grammar and your punctuation.
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One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
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The middle of the road is where the white line is - and that's the worst place to drive.
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Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air.