Quote

Live and let live, believe and let believe. 'Twas said the lesser gods were only traits Of the one awful God. Just so the saints Are God's white light refracted into colors.

Robert Frost

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Robert Frost
Age: 88 †
Born: 1874
Born: March 26
Died: 1963
Died: January 29
Pedagogue
Playwright
Poet
Writer
San Francisco County
California
Robert Lee Frost
Light
Traits
Live
Colors
Believe
Gods
Saint
Awful
Refracted
God
Twas
Color
Lesser
White
Saints

More quotes by Robert Frost

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Courage is of the heart by derivation, And great it is. But fear is of the soul.
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Now no joy but lacks salt That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault I crave the stain Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove.
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Have I not walked without an upward look Of caution under stars that very well Might not have missed me when they shot and fell? It was a risk I had to take-and took.
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The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to the ocean- Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.
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Freedom is slavery some poets tell us. Enslave yourself to the right leader's truth, Christ's or Karl Marx', and it will set you free.
Robert Frost
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I see for Nature no defeat In one tree's overthrow Or for myself in my retreat For yet another blow.
Robert Frost
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Man that is of woman born is apt to be as vain has his mother.
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It is only a moment here and a moment there that the greatest writer has. Some cognizance of the fact must be taken in your teaching.
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What makes a nation in the beginning is a good piece of geography.
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I play better tennis because the court is there.
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As for his evil tidings, Belshazzar's overthrow, Why hurry to tell Belshazzar What soon enough he would know?
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The best way to hate is the worst. 'Tis to find what the hated need, Never mind of what actual worth, And wipe that out of the earth. Let them die of unsatisfied greed.
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Skepticism, is that anything more than we used to mean when we said, Well, what have we here?
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Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
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Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.
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Now close the windows and hush all the fields: If the trees must, let them silently toss.
Robert Frost
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Butterflies...flowers that fly and all but sing.
Robert Frost
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A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.
Robert Frost
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Only where love and need are one, And the work is play for mortal stakes Is the deed ever truly done For Heaven and the future's sakes
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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 come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.
Robert Frost