Robert Frost Quotes

“We ran as if to meet the moon.”
― Robert Frost

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
― Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

“We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost's familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road — the one less traveled by — offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.”
― Rachel Carson, Silent Spring

“Playing ball of wind
reaching the other end of The Road Not Taken
may I call in Robert Frost by holding hands
and request Ginsberg to recite Howl
facing the world.”
― Suman Pokhrel

“When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstones of our judgement. The artists, however faithful to his personal vision of reality, becomes the last champion of the individual mind and sensibility against an intrusive society and an officious state. The great artist is thus a solitary figure. He has, as Frost said, "a lover's quarrel with the world." In pursuing his perceptions of reality he must often sail against the currents of his time. This is not a popular role.”
― John F. Kennedy

“Every journey taken always includes the path not taken, the detour through hell, the crossroads of indecision and the long way home.”
― Shannon L. Alder

“Nor is there wanting in the press
Some spirit to stand simply forth,
Heroic in it nakedness,
Against the uttermost of earth.
The tale of earth's unhonored things
Sounds nobler there than 'neath the sun;
And the mind whirls and the heart sings,
And a shout greets the daring one.”
― Robert Frost

“Papa thought that any book worth reading twice was worth owning. So instead of buying desserts, we bought books.”
― Natalie S. Bober, Papa Is a Poet: A Story About Robert Frost

“They are that that talks of going
But never gets away.”
― Robert Frost, Mountain Interval

“No, this is no beginning.
Then an end?
End is a gloomy word.”
― Robert Frost

“I'm drunk-nonsensical tired out.”
― Robert Frost, Mountain Interval

“What is this?
This life?
Our sitting here by lanternlight together
Amid the wreckage of a former home?
You won't deny the lantern isn't new.
The stove is not, and you are not to me,
Nor I to you.”
― Robert Frost

“I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.”
― Robert Frost, Mountain Interval

“No orchard's the worse for the wintriest storm;
But one thing about it, it mustn't get warm.
"How often already you've had to be told,
Keep cold, young orchard. Good-bye and keep cold.
Dread fifty above more than fifty below."
I have to be gone for a season or so.”
― Robert Frost

“You will always be the Matriarch—the Queen of Hearts. Your hand rocked my cradle, and you ruled my world.”
― Dipa Sanatani, The Merchant of Stories: A Creative Entrepreneur's Journey

“My woods...the young fir balsams like a place
Where houses all are churches and have spires.”
― Robert Frost, Mountain Interval

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
"The Road Not Taken”
― Robert Frost

“Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turf, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world's embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be.
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius' disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight,
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.”
― Robert Frost, Mountain Interval

“Sudden and swift and light as that
The ties gave,
And he learned of finalities
Besides the grave.”
― Robert Frost, Mountain Interval

“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by.
And that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost”
― Robert Frost

“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;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
― Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”
― Robert Frost, 101 Great American Poems

“Mending Wall

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
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 offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, 'Good fences make good neighbors.”
― Robert Frost

“Those who were busy to wish you a Happy Birthday

Will be Less busy to wish you Rest In Peace.

We cherished the Dead than the Living.
”
― ROBERT AMOANI

“Before I built a wall I’d ask to know what I was walling in, or walling out.”
― Blake Crouch, Wayward

“In 2013 there were 7,427 poetry readings in April, many on a Thursday. For anyone born in 1928 who pays attention to poetry, the numerousness is astonishing. In April 1948, there were 15 readings in the United States, 12 by Robert Frost. So I claim. The figures are imaginary, but you get the point.”
― Donald Hall, Essays After Eighty

“Two roads diverged in Delhi and Jish Guha took the one that led straight to a seedy bar in Paharganj.”
― Nikita Deshpande, It Must've Been Something He Wrote

“He is so natural a teacher that when he says, "You come too" you go willingly. When he teaches you something, he makes you believe that you thought of it yourself. He makes you feel that you knew it all along.”
― Hyde Cox, foreword of "You Come Too: Favorite Poems for Young Readers"

“We could paraphrase Frost and say that if you’re not at home in a pronoun, you are not at home anywhere in the world.”
― Matthew Zapruder

“The slow maturation of genuine creativity looks like laziness to a committee. Wallace Stevens was forty-three when his first book appeared. Robert Frost was thirty-nine. Today these sluggards would be unemployable.”
― Dana Gioia, Can Poetry Matter?: Essays on Poetry and American Culture