Quotes by Robert Frost

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Robert Lee Frost (March 26, 1874 January 29, 1963) was an American poet. Frost received four Pulitzer Prizes. more

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There is little much beyond the grave, but the strong are saying nothing until they see.

You can be a little ungrammatical if you come from the right part of the country.
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.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down
What is this talked-of mystery of birth but being mounted bareback on the earth?
A champion of the working man has never yet been known to die of overwork.
Man that is of woman born is apt to be as vain has his mother.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces between stars -- on stars where no human race is. I have it in me so much nearer home to scare myself with my own desert places.
Good fences make good neighbors.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down.
Skepticism, is that anything more than we used to mean when we said, Well, what have we here?
No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
A liberal man is too broad-minded to take his own side in a quarrel.
A successful lawsuit is the one worn by a policeman.
The land was ours before we were the land s. She was our land more than a hundred years before we were her people.
There are few sorrows, however poignant, in which a good income is of no avail.
Hell is a half-filled auditorium.
Friends make pretence of following to the grave but before one is in it, their minds are turned and making the best of their way back to life and living people and things they understand.
Pressed into service means pressed out of shape.
I had a lovers quarrel with the world.
The reason why worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work.
I am against a homogenized society because I want the cream to rise.
The land was ours before we were the lands. She was our land more than a hundred yearsBefore we were her people. She was oursIn Massachusetts, in Virginia,But we were Englands, still colonials,Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,Possessed by what we now no more possessed. Something we were withholding made us weakUntil we found out that it was ourselvesWe were withholding from our land of living,And forthwith found salvation in surrender. Such as we were we gave ourselves outrightTo the land vaguely realizing westward,But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,Such as she was, such as she would become.

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