Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Lee Frostwas an American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published in America. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. One of the most popular and critically respected American poets of the twentieth century, Frost was honored frequently...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth26 March 1874
CitySan Francisco, CA
CountryUnited States of America
Man that is of woman born is apt to be as vain as his mother
Man that is of woman born is apt to be as vain has his mother.
You don't have to deserve your mother's love. You have to deserve your father's.
A mother takes twenty years to make a man of her boy, and another woman makes a fool of him in twenty minutes.
You don't have to deserve your mother's love. You have to deserve your father s. He's more particular. The father is always a Republican towards his son, and his mother's always a Democrat.
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
Thinking is not to agree or disagree. That is voting.
An earthly dog of the carriage breed; Who, having failed of the modern speed, Now asked asylum and I was stirred To be the one so dog-preferred
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
By working faithfully eight hours a day you may eventually get to be boss and work twelve hours a day.
There never was any heart truly great and generous, that was not also tender and compassionate.
Time and Tide wait for no man,but time always stands still for a woman of thirty.
Time and tide wait for no man, but always stand still for a woman of thirty
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.