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Courage Is The Human Virtue That Counts Most-courage To Act On Limited Knowledge And Insufficient Evidence. That's All Any Of Us Have.

-Robert Frost

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Courage Is The Human

Robert Frost

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Courage Is The Human Virtue That Counts Most-courage To Act On Limited Knowledge And Insufficient Evidence. That's All Any Of Us Have.

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I Heard Someone Say He [carl Sandburg] Was The Kind Of Writer Who Had Everything To Gain And Nothing To Lose By Being Translated Into Another Language.

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.

Poetry Is A Way Of Taking Life By The Throat.

All There Is To Writing Is Having Ideas. To Learn To Write Is To Learn To Have Ideas.

But Not Gold In Commercial Quantities, Just Enough Gold To Make The Engagement Rings And Marriage Rings Of Those Who Owned The Farm. What Gold More Innocent Could One Have Asked For?

You Can Be A Little Ungrammatical If You Come From The Right Part Of The Country.

States Strong Enough To Do Good Are But Few. Their Number Would Seem Limited To Three.

I Don't Like To See Things On Purpose. I Like Them To Soak In. A Friend . . . Asked Me To Go To The Top Of The Empire State Building Once, And I Told Him That He Shouldn't Treat New York As A Sight-it's Feeling, An Emotional Experience. And The Same With Every Place Else.

Families Break Up When They Get Hints You Don't Intend And Miss Hints That You Do.

The Armful For Every Parcel I Stoop Down To Seize I Lose Some Other Off My Arms And Knees, And The Whole Pile Is Slipping, Bottles, Buns, Extremes Too Hard To Comprehend At. Once Yet Nothing I Should Care To Leave Behind. With All I Have To Hold With Hand And Mind And Heart, If Need Be, I Will Do My Best. To Keep Their Building Balanced At My Breast. I Crouch Down To Prevent Them As They Fall; Then Sit Down In The Middle Of Them All. I Had To Drop The Armful In The Road And Try To Stack Them In A Better Load.

Humor Is The Most Engaging Cowardice.

Bounds Should Be Set To Ingenuity For Being So Cruel In Bringing Change Unheralded On The Unready.

Sarcastic Science, She Would Like To Know, In Her Complacent Ministry Of Fear, How We Propose To Get Away From Here When She Has Made Things So We Have To Go Or Be Wiped Out. Will She Be Asked To Show Us How By Rocket We May Hope To Steer To Some Star Off There, Say, A Half Light-year Through Temperature Of Absolute Zero? Why Wait For Science To Supply The How When Any Amateur Can Tell It Now? The Way To Go Away Should Be The Same As Fifty Million Years Ago We Came- If Anyone Remembers How That Was I Have A Theory, But It Hardly Does.

Hell Is A Half-filled Auditorium.

The Only Way Around Is Through.

Lovers, Forget Your Love And List To The Love Of These She A Window Flower And He A Winter Breeze.

Never Discuss The Poem You Contemplate Writing. It's Like Turning On The Outside Spigot. It Takes All The Pressure Off The Upstairs Bathroom.

Humour Is The Most Engaging Cowardice. With It Myself I Have Been Able To Hold Some Of My Enemy In Play Far Out Of Gunshot.

I Have Stood Still And Stopped The Sound Of Feet When Far Away An Interrupted Cry Came Over Houses From Another Street, But Not To Call Me Back Or Say Good-bye.

There Would Be More Than Ocean-water Broken Before God's Last Put Out The Light Was Spoken.

I Shall Set Forth For Somewhere, I Shall Make The Reckless Choice Some Say When They Are In Voice And Tossing So As To Scare The White Clouds Over Them On, I Shall Have Less To Say, But I Shall Be None.

Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed, Cannot Be Parted Nor Be Swept Away, From One Another Once You Are Agreed, That Life Is Only Life Forevermore, Together Wing To Wing And Oar To Oar.

In Three Words I Can Sum Up Everything I've Learned About Life: It Goes On.

Tolerance Is The Uncomfortable Feeling That In The End The Other Could Be Right.

Uncomfortable Feeling

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak, Until We Found It Was Ourselves.

If You Remember Only One Thing I've Said, Remember That An Idea Is A Feat Of Association, And The Height Of It Is A Good Metaphor. If You Have Never Made A Good Metaphor, Then You Don't Know What It's All About.

Keep All Ur Troubles In Ur Own Pocket. But, Make Sure That The Pocket Has A Hole!

A Mother Takes Twenty Years To Make A Man Of Her Boy, And Another Woman Makes A Fool Of Him In Twenty Minutes.

A Poem Begins As A Lump In The Throat, A Sense Of Wrong, A Homesickness, A Lovesickness.

The Reason Why Worry Kills More People Than Work Is That More People Worry Than Work.

Our Life Runs Down In Sending Up The Clock. The Brook Runs Down In Sending Up Our Life. The Sun Runs Down In Sending Up The Brook. And There Is Something Sending Up The Sun.

Freedom Is When You Are Easy In The Harness.

I Was Under Twenty When I Deliberately Put It To Myself One Night After Good Conversation That There Are Moments When We Actually Touch In Talk What The Best Writing Can Only Come Near. The Curse Of Our Book Language Is Not So Much That It Keeps Forever To The Same Set Phrases . . . But That It Sounds Forever With The Same Reading Tones. We Must Go Out Into The Vernacular For Tones That Haven't Been Brought To Book.

A Poet Never Takes Notes. You Never Take Notes In A Love Affair.

But I May Be One Who Does Not Care Ever To Have Tree Bloom Or Bear.

I Hold It To Be The Inalienable Right Of Anybody To Go To Hell In His Own Way.

I Never Dared To Be Radical When Young For Fear It Would Make Me Conservative When Old.

A Poet Must Never Make A Statement Simply Because It Sounds Poetically Exciting; He Must Also Believe It To Be True." - W. H. Auden "a Poem...begins As A Lump In The Throat, A Sense Of Wrong, A Homesickness, A Lovesickness...it Finds The Thought And The Thought Finds The Words.

The Afternoon Knows What The Morning Never Suspected.

Being The Boss Anywhere Is Lonely. Being A Female Boss In A World Of Mostly Men Is Especially So.

Nothing Can Make Injustice Just But Mercy.

I'd Like To Go By Climbing A Birch Tree~ And Climb Black Branches Up A Snow-white Trunk Toward Heaven, Till The Tree Could Bear No More, But Dipped Its Top And Set Me Down Again. That Would Be Good Both Going And Coming Back. One Could Do Worse Than Be A Swinger Of Birches.

The Ear Is The Only True Writer And The Only True Reader. I Know People Who Read Without Hearing The Sentence Sounds And They Were The Fastest Readers. Eye Readers We Call Them. They Get The Meaning By Glances. But They Are Bad Readers Because They Miss The Best Part Of What A Good Writer Puts Into His Work.

We Disparage Reason. But All The Time It's What We're Most Concerned With. There's Will As Motor And There's Will As Brakes. Reason Is, I Suppose, The Steering Gear.

Not To Sink Under Being Man And Wife, But Get Some Color And Music Out Of Life?

The Test Is Always How We Treat The Poor.

An Idea Is A Feat Of Association.

A Turning Point In Modern History.

The Land Was Ours Before We Were The Land's. She Was Our Land More Than A Hundred Years Before We Were Her People.

Not Yesterday I Learned To Know The Love Of Bare November Days Before The Coming Of The Snow.

I Write To Find Out What I Didn't Know I Knew.

Butterflies...flowers That Fly And All But Sing.

Monarch Butterfly

I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night. I Have Walked Out In Rain - And Back In Rain. I Have Out Walked The Furthest City Light. I Have Looked Down The Saddest City Lane. I Have Passed By The Watchman On His Beat And Dropped My Eyes, Unwilling To Explain. I Have Stood Still And Stopped The Sound Of Feet. When Far Away An Interrupted Cry Came Over Houses From Another Street, But Not To Call Me Back Or Say Good-bye; And Further Still At An Unearthly Light, One Luminary Clock Against The Sky Proclaimed The Time Was Neither Wrong Nor Right. I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night.

What Makes A Nation In The Beginning Is A Good Piece Of Geography.

The Best Thing We're Put Here For's To See; The Strongest Thing That's Given Us To See With's A Telescope. Someone In Every Town, Seems To Me, Owes It To The Town To Keep One.

A Civilized Society Is One Which Tolerates Eccentricity To The Point Of Doubtful Sanity.

I Could Give All To Time Except--except What I Myself Have Held.

Create And Stir Other People To Create.

I Never Take My Own Side In A Quarrel.

I Only Hope That When I Am Free, As They Are Free To Go In Quest, Of The Knowledge Beyond The Bounds Of Life, It May Not Seem Better To Me To Rest.

For Me The Initial Delight Is In The Surprise Of Remembering Something I Didn't Know I Knew. I Have Never Started A Poem Yet Whose End I Knew.

The Middle Of The Road Is Where The White Line Is - And That's The Worst Place To Drive.

Affection Is An Overpowering Craving To Be Compellingly Sought.

End Is A Gloomy Word.

I Own I Never Really Warmed To The Reformer Or Reformed. And Yet Conversion Has Its Place Not Halfway Down The Scale Of Grace.

Suddenly, Quietly, You Realize That - From This Moment Forth - You Will No Longer Walk Through This Life Alone. Like A New Sun This Awareness Arises Within You, Freeing You From Fear, Opening Your Life. It Is The Beginning Of Love, And The End Of All That Came Before.

I Am One Who Has Been Acquainted With The Night

I Do Not See Why I Should E’er Turn Back, Or Those Should Not Set Forth Upon My Track To Overtake Me, Who Should Miss Me Here And Long To Know If Still I Held Them Dear. They Would Not Find Me Changed From Him They Knew — Only More Sure Of All I Thought Was True.

College Is A Refuge From Hasty Judgment.

Courage Is Of The Heart By Derivation, And Great It Is. But Fear Is Of The Soul.

The Old Dog Barks Backward Without Getting Up I Can Remember When He Was A Pup.

The Problem For The King Is Just How Strict The Lack Of Liberty, The Squeeze Of The Law And Discipline Should Be In School And State.

God Made A Beauteous Garden With Lovely Flowers Strown, But One Straight, Narrow Pathway That Was Not Overgrown. And To This Beauteous Garden He Brought Mankind To Live, And Said "to You, My Children, These Lovely Flowers I Give. Prune Ye My Vines And Fig Trees, With Care My Flowers Tend, But Keep The Pathway Open Your Home Is At The End." God's Garden

Oh, Give Us Pleasure In The Orch-ard White, Like Nothing Else By Day, Like Ghosts By Night.

You're Searching... For Things That Don't Exist; I Mean Beginnings. Ends And Beginnings - There Are No Such Things. There Are Only Middles.

If One By One We Counted People Out

Time And Tide Wait For No Man, But Time Always Stands Still For A Woman Of 30.

The Poet, As Everyone Knows, Must Strike His Individual Note Sometime Between The Ages Of Fifteen And Twenty-five. He May Hold It A Long Time, Or A Short Time, But It Is Then That He Must Strike It Or Never. School And College Have Been Conducted With The Almost Express Purpose Of Keeping Him Busy With Something Else Till The Danger Of His Ever Creating Anything Is Past.

Do You Know, Considering The Market, There Are More Poems Produced Than Any Other Thing? No Wonder Poets Sometimes Have To Seem So Much More Businesslike Than Businessmen. Their Wares Are So Much Harder To Get Rid Of.

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.

You've Got To Love What's Lovable, And Hate What's Hateable. It Takes Brains To See The Difference.

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.

Loyalty Is That For The Lack Of Which Your Gang Will Shoot You Without Benefit Of Trial By Jury.

A Bird Half Wakened In The Lunar Noon Sang Halfway Through Its Little Inborn Tune.

I Have Just Been To A City In The West, A City Full Of Poets, A City They Have Made Safe For Poets. The Whole City Is So Lovely That You Do Not Have To Write It Up To Make It Poetry; It Is Ready-made For You. But, I Don't Know - The Poetry Written In That City Might Not Seem Like Poetry If Read Outside Of The City. It Would Be Like The Jokes Made When You Were Drunk; You Have To Get Drunk Again To Appreciate Them.

I Dwell With A Strangely Aching Heart In That Vanished Abode There Far Apart

The First Thing I Do In The Morning Is To Make My Bed And While I Am Making Up My Bed I Am Making Up My Mind As To What Kind Of A Day I Am Going To Have.

And One Of The Three Great Things In The World Is Gossip, You Know. First There's Religion; And Then There's Science; And There's-and Then There's Friendly Gossip. Those Are The Three-the Three Great Things.

It Is Absurd To Think That The Only Way To Tell If A Poem Is Lasting Is To Wait And See If It Lasts. The Right Reader Of A Good Poem Can Tell The Moment It Strikes Him That He Has Taken An Immortal Wound-that He Will Never Get Over It.

When I Was Young, I Was So Interested In Baseball That My Family Was Afraid I'd Waste My Life And Be A Pitcher. Later They Were Afraid I'd Waste My Life And Be A Poet. They Were Right.

The Tree The Tempest With A Crash Of Wood Throws Down In Front Of Us Is Not To Bar Our Passage To Our Journey's End For Good, But Just To Ask Us Who We Think We Are.

I Have Wished A Bird Would Fly Away, And Not Sing By My House All Day.

I'm Not Confused. I'm Just Well Mixed.

Funny Inspirational

The Footpath Down To The Well Is Healed.

Word I Was In My Life Alone, / Word I Had No One Left But God.

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.

'warm In December, Cold In June, You Say?' I Don't Suppose The Water's Changed At All. You And I Know Enough To Know It's Warm Compared With Cold, And Cold Compared With Warm. But All The Fun's In How You Say A Thing.

Poetry Should Be Common In Experience But Uncommon In Books.

Freud Was Way Off Base In Considering Sex The Fundamental Motivation. The Ruling Passion In Men Is Minding Each Other's Business.

It Comes Down To A Doubt About The Wisdom Of Having Children After Having Had Them, So There Is Nothing We Can Do About It But Warn The Children They Perhaps Should Have None.

Two Roads Diverged In A Yellow Wood, And Sorry I Could Not Travel Both And Be One Traveler, Long I Stood And Looked Down One As Far As I Could To Where It Bent In The Undergrowth.

A Breeze Discovered My Open Book And Began To Flutter The Leaves To Look

Out Alone In The Winter Rain, / Intent On Giving And Taking Pain.

Pressed Into Service Means Pressed Out Of Shape.

For Hard It Is To Keep From Being King When It's In You And In The Situation.

The Sun Was Warm But The Wind Was Chill. You Know How It Is With An April Day.

Far In The Pillared Dark Thrush Music Went- Almost Like A Call To Come In To The Dark And Lament. But No, I Was Out For Stars: I Would Not Come In. I Meant Not Even If Asked, And I Hadn't Been.

One Of The Lies Would Make It Out That Nothing Ever Presents Itself Before Us Twice. Where Would We Be At Last If That Were So? Our Very Life Depends On Everything's Recurring Till We Answer From Within.

The Beauty Of Enmity Is Insecurity; The Beauty Of Friendship Is In Security.

Forgive Me My Nonsense, As I Also Forgive The Nonsense Of Those That Think They Talk Sense.

To Time It Never Seems That He Is Brave To Set Himself Against The Peaks Of Snow To Lay Them Level With The Running Wave, Nor Is He Overjoyed When They Lie Low, But Only Grave, Contemplative And Grave.

I Play Better Tennis Because The Court Is There.

More Men Die Of Worry Than Of Work, Because More Men Worry Than Work.

It Was Far In The Sameness Of The Wood; I Was Running With Joy On The Demon's Trail, Though I Knew What I Hunted Was No True God.

And Nothing To Look Backward To With Pride, And Nothing To Look Forward To With Hope.

At Bottom The World Isn't A Joke. We Only Joke About It To Avoid An Issue With Someone, To Let Someone Know That We Know He's There With His Questions; To Disarm Him By Seeming To Have Heard And Done Justice To His Side Of The Standing Argument.

I Turned To Speak To God About The World's Despair But To Make Bad Matters Worse I Found God Wasn't There.

I End Not Far From My Going Forth By Picking The Faded Blue Of The Last Remaining Aster Flower To Carry Again To You.

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.

The Nearest Friends Can Go With Anyone To Death, Comes So Far Short They Might As Well Not Try To Go At All.

Memento Mori And Obey The Lord. Art And Religion Love The Somber Chord.

Nature Does Not Complete Things. She Is Chaotic. Man Must Finish, And He Does So By Making A Garden And Building A Wall.

How Are We To Write The Russian Novel In America As Long As Life Goes So Unterribly?

Life Is Tons Of Discipline.

Poetry Is A Reaching Out Forward Expression, An Effort To Find Fulfillment

"if It Were A Dog, It Would Have Bitten You Already." Actual Twents: "at E Ne Hond Was, Dan E Oew Allange Ebettene." Meaning: Said To Someone Who Is Looking For Something Which Is Right Under His Nose. Source: Twents Woordenbook. Twents In Woord En Gebruik.

A Definite Purpose, Like Blinders On A Horse, Inevitably Narrows Its Possessor's Point Of View.

He Burned His House Down For The Fire Insurance And Spent The Proceeds On A Telescope.

How Many Times It Thundered Before Franklin Took The Hint! How Many Apples Fell On Newton's Head Before He Took The Hint! Nature Is Always Hinting At Us. It Hints Over And Over Again. And Suddenly We Take The Hint.

Trust Him To Have His Bitter Politics Against His Unacquaintances The Rich Who Sleep In Houses Of Their Own, Though Mortgaged. Conservatives, They Don't Know What To Save.

The Strongest And Most Effective Force In Guaranteeing The Long-term Maintenance Of Power Is Not Violence In All The Forms Deployed By The Dominant To Control The Dominated, But Consent In All The Forms In Which The Dominated Acquiesce In Their Own Domination.

Yes, Of Course [this Age] Is Materialistic, But The Only Way To Counteract It Is To Create Spiritual Things. Don't Worry Yourself About The Materialism Too Much. Create And Stir Other People To Create!

Life Is Tons Of Discipline. Your First Discipline Is Your Vocabulary; Then Your Grammar And Your Punctuation

Live Life Like Its The Last Breath You Take For That Breath Is The Whole Essence Of Living, The Little Things In Life Are What Connects Us To All The Big Things We Live For

The Moon For All Her Light And Grace Has Never Learned To Know Her Place.

Nature Is Always Hinting At Us. It Hints Over And Over Again. And Suddenly We Take The Hint.

Nature's First Green Is Gold, Her Hardest Hue To Hold. Her Early Leaf's A Flower; But Only So An Hour. Then Leaf Subsides To Leaf. So Eden Sank To Grief, So Dawn Goes Down To Day. Nothing Gold Can Stay.

Poetry Is About The Grief. Politics Is About The Grievance.

Life Must Be Kept Up At A Great Rate In Order To Absorb Any Considerable Amount Of Learning.

You've Often Heard Me Say - Perhaps Too Often - That Poetry Is What Is Lost In Translation. It Is Also What Is Lost In Interpretation. That Little Poem Means Just What It Says And It Says What It Means, Nothing Less But Nothing More.

Before I Built A Wall I'd Ask To Know What I Was Walling In Or Walling Out.

Such Heaps Of Broken Glass To Sweep Away / You'd Think The Inner Dome Of Heaven Had Fallen.

I Hope To Leave Behind A Few Poems It Will Be Hard To Get Rid Of.

Scholars And Artists Thrown Together Are Often Annoyed At The Puzzle Of Where They Differ. Both Work From Knowledge; But I Suspectthey Differ Most Importantly In The Way Their Knowledge Is Come By. Scholars Get Theirs With Conscientious Thoroughness Along Projected Lines Of Logic; Poets Theirs Cavalierly And As It Happens In And Out Of Books. They Stick To Nothing Deliberately, But Let What Will Stick To Them Like Burrs Where They Walk In The Fields.

Haven't You Heard, Though, About The Ships Where War Has Found Them Out At Sea, About The Towns Where War Has Come Through Opening Clouds At Night With Droning Speed Further O'erhead Than All But Stars And Angels And Children In The Ships And In The Towns?

To Be Social Is To Be Forgiving.

Love At The Lips Was Touch As Sweet As I Could Bear; And Once That Seemed Too Much; I Lived On Air.

Home Is The Place Where, When You Have To Go There, They Have To Take You In.

Nor Is There Wanting In The Press Some Spirit To Stand Simply Forth, Heroic In It Nakedness, Against The Uttermost Of Earth. The Tale Of Earth's Unhonored Things Sounds Nobler There Than 'neath The Sun; And The Mind Whirls And The Heart Sings, And A Shout Greets The Daring One.

If There Is One Thing In Life That I Have Learned About Life It Is... It Goes On.

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.

I've Given Offense By Saying I'd As Soon Write Free Verse As Play Tennis With The Net Down.

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.

One Aged Man - One Man - Can't Fill A House.

The Best Way Out Is Always Through.

Now Close The Windows And Hush All The Fields: If The Trees Must, Let Them Silently Toss.

I Think I Know Enough Of Hate To Say That For Destruction Ice Is Also Great And Would Suffice.

Some Say The World Will End In Fire, Some Say In Ice. From What I've Tasted Of Desire, I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire. But If It Had To Perish Twice I Think I Know Enough Of Hate To Say That For Destruction Ice Is Also Great And Would Suffice.

The Figure A Poem Makes. It Begins In Delight And Ends In Wisdom.

The Chance Is The Remotest, Of Its Going Much Longer Unnoticed, That I'm Not Keeping Pace With The Headlong Human Race

Some Spirit To Stand Simply Forth, Heroic In Its Nakedness, Against The Uttermost Of Earth.

I Would Not Come In. I Meant Not Even If Asked, And I Hadn't Been.

Modern Poets Talk Against Business, Poor Things, But All Of Us Write For Money. Beginners Are Subjected To Trial By Market.

There Is The Fear That We Shan't Prove Worthy In The Eyes Of Someone Who Knows Us At Least As Well As We Know Ourselves. That Is The Fear Of God. And There Is The Fear Of Man -fear That Men Won't Understand Us And We Shall Be Cut Of From Them.

Evolution Is Like Walking On A Rolling Barrel. The Walker Isn't So Much Interested In Where The Barrel Is Going As He Is In Keeping On Top Of It.

There Is Much In Nature Against Us. But We Forget: Take Nature Altogether Since Time Began, Including Human Nature, In Peace And War, And It Must Be A Little More In Favor Of Man.

We Get Twitted Now And Then On How We Made This Country. Well, We Took The Whole Business, Of Course. It's Not Just That Corner That We Took From Mexico. When We Got It All Together, We Got A Very Shapely Country-the Best Continental Cut In All The World, Between The Two Oceans And In The Right Temperature Zone.

As For His Evil Tidings, Belshazzar's Overthrow, Why Hurry To Tell Belshazzar What Soon Enough He Would Know?

You Don't Have To Deserve Your Mother's Love. You Have To Deserve Your Father's.

It's A Funny Thing That When A Man Hasn't Anything On Earth To Worry About, He Goes Off And Gets Married.

Anything More Than The Truth Would Have Seemed Too Weak.

Earth Would Soon Be Uninhabitable As The Moon. What For That Matter Had It Ever Been? Who Advised Man To Come And Live Therein?

Yes, And Even For The Past...that It Will Turn Out To Have Been All Right For What It Was. Something I Can Accept. Mistakes Made By The Self I Had To Be Or Was Not Able To Be.

There Are Tones Of Voices That Mean More Than Words.

In A Glass Of Cider It Seemed I Was A Mite Of Sediment That Waited For The Bottom To Ferment So I Could Catch A Bubble In Ascent. I Rode Up On One Till The Bubble Burst, And When That Left Me To Sink Back Reversed I Was No Worse Off Than I Was At First. I'd Catch Another Bubble If I Waited. The Thing Was To Get Now And Then Elated.

The Sister's Face Fell All In Wrinkles Of Responsibility. She Wanted To Do Right. She'd Have To Think.

Heaven Gives Its Glimpses Only To Those Not In Position To Look Too Close.

I Often Say Of George Washington That He Was One Of The Few In The Whole History Of The World Who Was Not Carried Away By Power.

Before I Built A Wall I'd Ask To Know What I Was Walling In Or Walling Out, And To Whom I Was Like To Give Offence. Something There Is That Doesn't Love A Wall, That Wants It Down.

Leaves And Bark, Leaves And Bark, To Lean Against And Hear In The Dark. Petals I May Have Once Pursued. Leaves Are All My Darker Mood.

The Only Way Out Is Through.

Christian Inspirational

There Are Three Things, After All, That A Poem Must Reach: The Eye, The Ear, And What We May Call The Heart Or The Mind. It Is The Most Important Of All To Reach The Heart Of The Reader.

The Difference Between A Man And His Valet: They Both Smoke The Same Cigars, But Only One Pays For Them.

In Spring More Mortal Singers Than Belong To Any One Place Cover Us With Song. Thrush, Bluebird, Blackbird, Sparrow, And Robin Throng.

When A Friend Calls To Me From The Road And Slows His Horse To A Meaning Walk, I Don't Stand Still And Look Around On All The Hills I Haven't Hoed, And Shout From Where I Am, What Is It? No, Not As There Is A Time To Talk. I Thrust My Hoe In The Mellow Ground, Blade-end Up And Five Feet Tall, And Plod: I Go Up To The Stone Wall For A Friendly Visit.

I Have Never Started A Poem Yet Whose End I Knew. Writing A Poem Is Discovering.

A Poem Begins With A Lump In The Throat; A Homesickness Or A Love Sickness. It Is A Reaching-out Toward Expression; An Effort To Find Fulfillment. A Complete Poem Is One Where An Emotion Has Found Its Thought And The Thought Has Found Words.

I Am Not A Nature Poet. There Is Almost Always A Person In My Poems.

Fortunately, We Don't Need To Know How Bad An Age Is. There Is Something We Can Always Be Doing Without Reference To How Good Or Bad The Age Is.

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.

A Successful Lawsuit Is The One Worn By A Policeman.

It's Hard To Get Into This World And Hard To Get Out Of It, And What's In Between Doesn't Make Much Sense.

God Once Declared He Was True And Then Took The Veil And Withdrew.

He Is All Pine And I Am Apple Orchard. My Apple Trees Will Never Get Across And Eat The Cones Under His Pines, I Tell Him. He Only Says, "good Fences Make Good Neighbors.

Any Eye Is An Evil Eye That Looks In On To A Mood Apart.

Diplomacy, N : 1. The Patriotic Art Of Lying For One's Country. 2. The Art Of Letting Someone Have Your Way. 3. The Art Of Saying 'nice Doggy' Until You Can Find A Rock. A Diplomat Is A Man Who Always Remembers A Woman's Birthday But Never Remembers Her Age.

Belief Is Better Than Anything Else, And It Is Best When Rapt - Above Paying Its Respects To Anybody's Doubt Whatsoever.

Let Cloud Shapes Swarm, / Let Chaos Storm, / I Wait For Form.

I Dwell In A Lonely House I Know That Vanished Many A Summer Ago.

You Have Freedom When You're Easy In Your Harness.

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