Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offence. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.

Unless I'm wrong I but obey The urge of a song: I'm-bound-away! And I may return If dissatisfied With what I learn From having died.

The greatest thing in family life is to take a hint when a hint is intended-and not to take a hint when a hint isn't intended.

For me the initial delight is in the surprise of remembering something I didn't know I knew. I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew.

Our very life depends on everything's Recurring till we answer from within.

Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.

A true sonnet goes eight lines and then takes a turn for better or worse and goes six or eight lines more.