Quote

A bird half wakened in the lunar noon Sang halfway through its little inborn tune.

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
Half
Lunar
Littles
Inborn
Little
Noon
Sang
Halfway
Tune
Tunes
Bird
Wakened

More quotes by Robert Frost

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Let him that is without stone among you cast the first thing he can lay his hands on.
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The only way out is to go through
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To be social is to be forgiving.
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The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom... in a clarification of life - not necessarily a great clarification, such as sects and cults are founded on, but in a momentary stay against confusion.
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And nothing to look backward to with pride, and nothing to look forward to with hope.
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But these are flowers that fly and all but sing: And now from having ridden out desire They lie closed over in the wind and cling Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.
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He thought that I was after him for a feather--- The white one in his tail: like one who takes everything said as personal to himself.
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Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak.
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I never take my own side in a quarrel.
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There would be more than ocean-water broken Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.
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Nearly everybody is looking for something brave to do. I don't know why people shouldn't write poetry. That's brave.
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Poets like Shakespeare know more about poetry than any $25 an hour man.
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That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.
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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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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.
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But he had gone his way, the grass all mown, And I must be, as he had been - alone, As all must be, I said within my heart, Whether they work together or apart.
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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.
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There is no love. There's only love of men and women, love Of children, love of friends, of men, of God: Divine love, human love, parental love, Roughly discriminated for the rough.
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Poetry is the renewal of words, setting them free, and that's what a poet is doing: loosening the words.
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God once declared He was true And then took the veil and withdrew.
Robert Frost