Robert Frost Quotes

The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.

The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.

Take care to sell your horse before he dies. The art of life is passing losses on.

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.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.

I always entertain great hopes.

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.

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift, The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee, Expend their bloom in vain. Come over the hills and far with me, And be my love in the rain.

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.

I think I know enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great and would suffice.

You're always believing ahead of your evidence. What was the evidence I could write a poem? I just believed it. The most creative thing in us is to believe in a thing.

The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove.

Poetry is what is lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.

The old dog barks backward without getting up I can remember when he was a pup.

A person will sometimes devote all his life to the development of one part of his body - the wishbone.

Life is tons of discipline. Your first discipline is your vocabulary; then your grammar and your punctuation Then, in your exuberance and bounding energy you say you're going to add to that. Then you add rhyme and meter. And your delight is in that power.

At bottom the world isn't a joke. We only joke about it to avoid an issue with someone, to let someone know that we know he's there with his questions; to disarm him by seeming to have heard and done justice to his side of the standing argument.

If the writer does not cry, the reader does not cry.

Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and building a wall.

Nobody was ever meant, To remember or invent, What he did with every cent.

The best way out is always through.

I alone of English writers have consciously set myself to make music out of what I may call the sound of sense.

Poetry is about the grief. Politics is about the grievance.

One age is like another for the soul.

Something sinister in the tone Told me my secret must be known: Word I was in the house alone Somehow must have gotten abroad, Word I was in my life alone, Word I had no one left but God.

Thinking isn't agreeing or disagreeing. That's voting.

One of the hardest things in life to accept is a called third strike.

What you want, what you're hanging around in the world waiting for, is for something to occur to you.

Belief is better than anything else, and it is best when rapt - above paying its respects to anybody's doubt whatsoever.

There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fill you with so much quail shot that you can't move, and the kind that just gives you a little prod behind and you jump to the skies.

Yes, and even for the past...that it will turn out to have been all right for what it was. Something I can accept. Mistakes made by the self I had to be or was not able to be.

Poetry is play. I'd even rather have you think of it as a sport. For instance, like football.

Only God and I knew what I meant when I wrote it, now only God knows

A poem may be worked over once it is in being, but may not be worried into being.

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

Hell is a half-filled auditorium.

I could define poetry this way: it is that which is lost out of both prose and verse in translation.

Affection is an overpowering craving to be compellingly sought.

I end not far from my going forth By picking the faded blue Of the last remaining aster flower To carry again to you.

Life is tons of discipline. Your first discipline is your vocabulary; then your grammar and your punctuation

The nearest friends can go With anyone to death, comes so far short They might as well not try to go at all.

I only hope that when I am free, as they are free to go in quest, of the knowledge beyond the bounds of life, it may not seem better to me to rest.

Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.

Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these She a window flower And he a winter breeze.

In A Glass of Cider It seemed I was a mite of sediment That waited for the bottom to ferment So I could catch a bubble in ascent. I rode up on one till the bubble burst, And when that left me to sink back reversed I was no worse off than I was at first. I'd catch another bubble if I waited. The thing was to get now and then elated.

Nothing is quite honest that is not commercial, but not everything commercial is honest.

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