Robert Frost Quotes

Once we began to see our images Reflected in the mud and even dust, 'Twas disillusion upon disillusion. We were lost piecemeal to the animals, Like people thrown out to delay the wolves. Nothing but fallibility was left us....
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The White-Tailed Hornet."
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"Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. Let the night be too dark for me to see Into the future. Let what will be, be."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Acceptance."
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What kept him from remembering what it was That brought him to that creaking room was age.
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. An Old Man's Winter Night (l. 6-7). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
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We're too unseparate. And going home From company means coming to our senses.
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Build Soil."
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"... A nation has to take its natural course Of Progress round and round in circles From King to Mob to King to Mob to King Until the eddy of it eddies out."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "How Hard It Is to Keep From Being King When It's in You and in the Situation."
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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.
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. My November Guest.
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Slave to a springtime passion for the earth. How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed On through the watching for that early birth When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, The sturdy seedling with arched body comes Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "Putting in the Seed."
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He never did a thing so very bad. He don't know why he isn't quite as good As anyone. Worthless though he is, He won't be made ashamed to please his brother."
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. The Death of the Hired Man (l. 148-151). . . The Poetry of Robert Frost. Edward Connery Lathem, ed. (1979) Henry Holt.
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A town debars Much notice of what's going on in stars.
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The Literate Farmer and the Planet Venus."
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Won't this whole instinct matter bear revision? Won't almost any theory bear revision? To err is human, not to, animal.
Robert Frost (1874-1963), U.S. poet. "The White-Tailed Hornet."
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