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.

I have miles to go before I sleep.

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age.

He says the best way out is always through. / And I can agree to that, or in so far / As that I can see no way out but through

There are few sorrows, however poignant, in which a good income is of no avail.

The beauty of enmity is insecurity; the beauty of friendship is in security.