Robert Frost Quotes (285 Quotes)

An idea is a feat of association.

I often say of George Washington that he was one of the few in the whole history of the world who was not carried away by power.

Water came to rebuke the too clear water.

It made the world seem so mysterious.

And were an epitaph to be my story I'd have a short one ready for my own. I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world.

I'd hate to be a runaway from nature.

I go to school to youth to learn the future.

An earthly dog of the carriage breed Who, having failed of the modern speed, Now asked asylum and I was stirred To be the one so dog-preferred

Good boys they seemed, and let them love the city.

The only certain freedom's in departure.

It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,
Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:
Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak
To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows,
Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers
(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring I'll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear, I may) I shan't be gone long. You come too.

Reason enough, there was no property.

I have my fancies: it runs in the family.

A plow, they say, to plow the snow.

Hell is a half-filled auditorium.

There is one thing more exasperating than a wife who can cook and won't, and that's the wife who can't and will.

It asks a little of us here. It asks of us a certain height, So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may take something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid.

The land was ours before we were the land's. She was our land more than a hundred years Before we were her people.

A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.

My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.

We love the things we love for what they are.

Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.

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

Thinking is not to agree or disagree. That is voting.

Don't join too many gangs. Join few if any. Join the United States and join the family But not much in between unless a college.

It takes all sorts of in and outdoor schooling To get adapted to my kind of fooling.

The Vermont mountains stretch extended straight New Hampshire mountains curl up in a coil.

I'd just as soon play tennis with the net down.

Too bad I couldn't lay one in a letter.

It is absurd to think that the only way to tell if a poem is lasting is to wait and see if it lasts. The right reader of a good poem can tell the moment it strikes him that he has taken an immortal woundthat he will never get over it.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day When the sun is out and the wind is still You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, A cloud comes over the sunlit arch, A wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.

I hold it to be the inalienable right of anybody to go to hell in his own way.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

The snake stood up for evil in the Garden.