Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Have I not walked without an upward look Of caution under stars that very well Might not have missed me when they shot and fell? It was a risk I had to take-and took.

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

What is done is done for the love of it- or not really done at all.

I never dared to be radical when young for fear it would make me conservative when old.

It's hard to get into this world and hard to get out of it, and what's in between doesn't make much sense.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day.