Background Image

...

The Master Speed No Speed Of Wind Or Water Rushing By But You Have Speed Far Greater. You Can Climb Back Up A Stream Of Radiance To The Sky, And Back Through History Up The Stream Of Time. And You Were Given This Swiftness, Not For Haste Nor Chiefly That You May Go Where You Will, But In The Rush Of Everything To Waste, That You May Have The Power Of Standing Still-- Off Any Still Or Moving Thing You Say. Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed From One Another Once You Are Agreed That Life Is Only Life Forevermore Together Wing To Wing And Oar To Oar.

-Robert Frost

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

The Master Speed No

Robert Frost

...

The Master Speed No Speed Of Wind Or Water Rushing By But You Have Speed Far Greater. You Can Climb Back Up A Stream Of Radiance To The Sky, And Back Through History Up The Stream Of Time. And You Were Given This Swiftness, Not For Haste Nor Chiefly That You May Go Where You Will, But In The Rush Of Everything To Waste, That You May Have The Power Of Standing Still-- Off Any Still Or Moving Thing You Say. Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed From One Another Once You Are Agreed That Life Is Only Life Forevermore Together Wing To Wing And Oar To Oar.

Views: 6

Topic

More From Robert Frost

I Hate The Idea That You Ought To Read The Whole Of Anybody.

Nothing Gold Can Stay.

What Is Required Is Sight And Insight- Then You Might Add One More: Excite.

Of Course There Is Matter For Remark In Poems. Nobody Denies That. But It Must Be Solemnly Laid On Everybody In This World To Make His Own Observations And Remarks. That's What We Mean By Thinking, And That's About All We Mean. A Teacher Says To A Pupil "watch Me Notice A Few Things In The Next Few Months: Let's See You Notice A Few Things Too."

But What Would Interest You About The Brook, It's Always Cold In Summer, Warm In Winter.

My Sorrow, When She's Here With Me, Thinks These Dark Days Of Autumn Rain Are Beautiful As Days Can Be; She Loves The Bare, The Withered Tree; She Walks The Sodden Pasture Lane.

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.

God Turned To Speak To Me (don't Anybody Laugh); God Found I Wasn't There At Least Not Over Half.

The Best Things And Best People Rise Out Of Their Separateness; I'm Against A Homogenized Society Because I Want The Cream To Rise.

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

Nothing Not Built With Hands Of Course Is Sacred. But Here Is Not A Question Of What's Sacred; Rather Of What To Face Or Run Away From. I'd Hate To Be A Runaway From Nature.

Poets Need Not Go To Niagara To Write About The Force Of Falling Water.

Education Is Hanging Around Until You've Caught On.

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

For I Thought Epicurus And Lucretius By Nature Meant The Whole Goddam Machinery.

Our Very Life Depends On Everything's Recurring Till We Answer From Within.

Most Of The Change We Think We See In Life Is Due To Truths Being In And Out Of Favor.

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

Monarch Butterfly

Happiness Makes Up In Height For What It Lacks In Length.

The Sidelong Glance Is What You Depend On.

Courage Is In The Air In Bracing Whiffs Better Than All The Stalemate An's And Ifs.

The Only Way Around Is Through.

The Style Is The Man. Rather Say The Style Is The Way The Man Takes Himself; And To Be At All Charming Or Even Bearable, The Way Is Almost Rigidly Prescribed. If It Is With Outer Seriousness, It Must Be With Inner Humor. If It Is With Outer Humor, It Must Be With Inner Seriousness. No Other Way Will Do.

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

Uncomfortable Feeling

Don't Ever Take A Fence Down Until You Know Why It Was Put Up.

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

The Question That He Frames In All But Words Is What To Make Of A Diminished Thing.

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.

Come Grow Old With Me, For The Best Is Yet To Come!

Best Is Yet To Come

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

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.

The Worst Disease Which Can Afflict Executives In Their Work Is Not, As Popularly Supposed, Alcoholism; It's Egotism.

I Alone Of English Writers Have Consciously Set Myself To Make Music Out Of What I May Call The Sound Of Sense.

My Long Two-pointed Ladder's Sticking Through A Tree Toward Heaven Still, And There's A Barrel That I Didn't Fill Beside It, And There May Be Two Or Three Apples I Didn't Pick Upon Some Bough. But I Am Done With Apple-picking Now. Essence Of Winter Sleep Is On The Night, The Scent Of Apples: I Am Drowsing Off.

Of All Crimes The Worst Is To Steal The Glory From The Great And Brave, Even More Accursed Than To Rob The Grave.

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.

A Man Has Got To Keep His Extrication. The Important Thing Is Not To Get Bogged Down In What He Has To Do To Earn A Living.

Earth's The Right Place For Love. I Don't Know Where It's Likely To Go Better.

Sentences Are Not Different Enough To Hold The Attention Unless They Are Dramatic. No Ingenuity Of Varying Structure Will Do. All That Can Save Them Is The Speaking Tone Of Voice Somehow Entangled In The Words And Fastened To The Page For The Ear Of The Imagination. That Is All That Can Save Poetry From Sing-song, All That Can Save Prose From Itself.

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.

When I Was Young My Teachers Were The Old. I Gave Up Fire For Form Till I Was Cold.

Before Now Poetry Has Taken Notice Of Wars, And What Are Wars But Politics Transformed From Chronic To Acute And Bloody?

There Are Two Kinds Of Teachers: The Kind That Fill You With So Much Quail Shot That You Can't Move, And The Kind That Just Gives You A Little Prod Behind And You Jump To The Skies.

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.

A Jury Consists Of Twelve Persons Chosen To Decide Who Has The Better Lawyer.

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

Like A Piece Of Ice On A Hot Stove The Poem Must Ride On Its Own Melting.

Nothing Flatters Me More Than To Have It Assumed That I Could Write Prose, Unless It Be To Have It Assumed That I Once Pitched A Baseball With Distinction.

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.

The Heart Can Think Of No Devotion Greater Than Being Shore To The Ocean- Holding The Curve Of One Position, Counting An Endless Repetition.

A Bank Is A Place Where They Lend You An Umbrella In Fair Weather And Ask For It Back When It Begins To Rain.

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?

Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed Cannot Be Parted Nor Be Swept Away

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

I Still Say The Only Education Worth Anything Is Self-education.

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

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

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

Possessing What We Still Were Unpossessed By, Possessed By What We Now No More Possessed.

Poetry Is The Renewal Of Words, Setting Them Free, And That's What A Poet Is Doing: Loosening The Words.

A Voice Said, Look Me In The Stars And Tell Me Truly, Men Of Earth, If All The Soul-and-body Scars Were Not Too Much To Pay For Birth.

The Only Way Round Is Through.

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

What Are We? Young Or New? We Must Be Something.

New Is A Word For Fools In Towns Who Think Style Upon Style In Dress And Thought At Last Must Get Somewhere.

It's God - I Recognised Him From Blake's Picture.

Keats Mourned That The Rainbow, Which As A Boy Had Been For Him A Magic Thing, Had Lost Its Glory Because The Physicists Had Found It Resulted Merely From The Refraction Of The Sunlight By The Raindrops. Yet Knowledge Of Its Causation Could Not Spoil The Rainbow For Me. I Am Sure That It Is Not Given To Man To Be Omniscient. There Will Always Be Something Left To Know, Something To Excite The Imagination Of The Poet And Those Attuned To The Great World In Which They Live (p. 64)

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

If The Day Ever Comes When They Know Who They Are, They May Know Better Where They Are.

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

Poetry Should Be Common In Experience But Uncommon In Books.

Poetry Is A Way Of Taking Life By The Throat.

Only God And I Knew What I Meant When I Wrote It, Now Only God Knows

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

The Best Way Out Is Always Through.

But This We Know, The Obstacle That Checked And Tripped The Body, Shot The Spirit On Further Than Target Ever Showed Or Shone.

When Work Becomes Play, And Play Becomes Your Work, Your Life Unfolds.

As A Confirmed Astronomer I'm Always For A Better Sky.

You Know How Cunningly Mankind Is Planned: We Have One Loving And One Hating Hand. The Loving's Made To Hold Each Other Like, While With The Hating Other Hand We Strike.

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

The Snake Stood Up For Evil In The Garden.

No Memory Of Having Starred Atones For Later Disregard, Or Keeps The End From Being Hard.

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

I Always Entertain Great Hopes.

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.

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.

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

The Master Speed No Speed Of Wind Or Water Rushing By But You Have Speed Far Greater. You Can Climb Back Up A Stream Of Radiance To The Sky, And Back Through History Up The Stream Of Time. And You Were Given This Swiftness, Not For Haste Nor Chiefly That You May Go Where You Will, But In The Rush Of Everything To Waste, That You May Have The Power Of Standing Still-- Off Any Still Or Moving Thing You Say. Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed From One Another Once You Are Agreed That Life Is Only Life Forevermore Together Wing To Wing And Oar To Oar.

Here Are Your Waters And Your Watering Place. Drink And Be Whole Again Beyond Confusion.

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

It Looked As If A Night Of Dark Intent Was Coming, And Not Only A Night, An Age. Someone Had Better Be Prepared For Rage.

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.

Thinking Isn't Agreeing Or Disagreeing. That's Voting.

I Am Sure I Have Heard This Several Times From Places I Can't Recall, But It's Not Already In The Gaia Quotes Database, So I Add This Profound Insight From The Fields Of Psychological Healing And Spiritual Evolution. It Sure Has Helped Me.

For, Dear Me, Why Abandon A Belief, Merely Because It Ceases To Be True, Cling To It Long Enough, And Not A Doubt, It Will Turn True Again, For So It Goes.

We Ran As If To Meet The Moon.

Half The World Is Composed Of People Who Have Something To Say And Can't, And The Other Half Who Have Nothing To Say And Keep On Saying It.

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

We're Either Nothing Or A God's Regret.

Human Condition

The Brain Is A Wonderful Organ; It Starts Working The Moment You Get Up In The Morning And Does Not Stop Until You Get Into The Office.

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.

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 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.

Hell Is A Half-filled Auditorium.

It Should Be Of The Pleasure Of A Poem Itself To Tell How It Can. The Figure A Poem Makes. It Begins In Delight And Ends In Wisdom. The Figure Is The Same For Love.

Nations Like The Cuban And The Swiss Can Never Hope To Wage A Global Mission. No Holy Wars For Them. The Most The Small Can Ever Give Us Is A Nuisance Brawl.

For Dear Me, Why Abandon A Belief Merely Because It Ceases To Be True

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

... 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.

End Is A Gloomy Word.

(soft Petals, Yes, But Not So Barren Quite, Mingled With These, Smooth Bean And Wrinkled Pea;) And Go Along With You Ere You Lose Sight Of What You Came For And Become Like Me, Slave To A Springtime Passion For The Earth. How Love Burns Through The Putting In The Seed On Through The Watching For That Early Birth When, Just As The Soil Tarnishes With Weed, The Sturdy Seedling With Arched Body Comes Shouldering Its Way And Shedding The Earth Crumbs.

The Line-storm Clouds Fly Tattered And Swift, The Road Is Forlorn All Day, Where A Myriad Snowy Quartz Stones Lift, And The Hoof-prints Vanish Away. The Roadside Flowers, Too Wet For The Bee, Expend Their Bloom In Vain. Come Over The Hills And Far With Me, And Be My Love In The Rain.

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

Let's Get My Incantation Right: "i Wish I May, I Wish I Might" Give Earth Another Satellite.

One Age Is Like Another For The Soul.

An Idea Is A Feat Of Association, And The Height Of It Is A Good Metaphor.

I Play Better Tennis Because The Court Is There.

Summoning Artists To Participate In The August Occasions Of The State Seems Something Artists Ought To Celebrate. Today Is For My Cause A Day Of Days.

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

Take Care To Sell Your Horse Before He Dies. The Art Of Life Is Passing Losses On.

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

If We Couldn't Laugh We Would All Go Insane.

What Is Done Is Done For The Love Of It- Or Not Really Done At All.

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.

For I Have Had Too Much Of Apple-picking:i Am Overtired Of The Great Harvest I Myself Desired.

To Be Social Is To Be Forgiving.

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

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.

And Were An Epitaph To Be My Story I'd Have A Short One Ready For My Own. I Would Have Written Of Me On My Stone: I Had A Lover's Quarrel With The World.

The Best Way For A Person To Have Happy Thoughts Is To Count His Blessings And Not His Cash. Happiness Makes Up In Height For What It Lacks In Length.

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

I'm Not A Teacher, But An Awakener.

All The Fun Is In How You Say A Thing.

What Is This Talked-of Mystery Of Birth. But Being Mounted Bareback On The Earth?

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.

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.

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.

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

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!

So When At Times The Mob Is Swayed To Carry Praise Or Blame Too Far, We May Choose Something Like A Star To Stay Our Minds On And Be Staid.

Nobody Was Ever Meant, To Remember Or Invent, What He Did With Every Cent.

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?

The Difference Between A Job And A Career Is The Difference Between Forty And Sixty Hours A Week.

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.

I See For Nature No Defeat In One Tree's Overthrow Or For Myself In My Retreat For Yet Another Blow.

There Is One Thing More Exasperating Than A Wife Who Can Cook And Won't, And That's A Wife Who Can't Cook And Will.

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.

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.

Style Is Less The Man Than The Way A Man Takes Himself.

A Person Will Sometimes Devote All His Life To The Development Of One Part Of His Body - The Wishbone.

Let Those Possess The Land, And Only Those, Who Love It With A Love So Strong And Stupid That They May Be Abused And Taken Advantage Of And Made Fun Of By Business, Law, And Art.

Gathering Leaves Spades Take Up Leaves No Better Than Spoons, And Bags Full Of Leaves Are Light As Balloons. I Make A Great Noise Of Rustling All Day Like Rabbit And Deer Running Away. But The Mountains I Raise Elude My Embrace, Flowing Over My Arms And Into My Face. I May Load And Unload Again And Again Till I Fill The Whole Shed, And What Have I Then? Next To Nothing For Weight, And Since They Grew Duller From Contact With Earth, Next To Nothing For Color. Next To Nothing For Use. But A Crop Is A Crop, And Who's To Say Where The Harvest Shall Stop?

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.

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

If One By One We Counted People Out

Any Work Of Art Must First Of All Tell A Story.

The Rose Is A Rose, And Was Always A Rose. But The Theory Now Goes That The Apple's A Rose.

Writing Free Verse Is Like Playing Tennis With The Net Down.

My Definition Of Poetry (if I Were Forced To Give One) Would Be This: Words That Have Become Deeds.

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.

I Fail To See What Fun, What Satisfaction / A God Can Find In Laughing At How Badly / Men Fumble At The Possibilities.

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.

The Ear Is The Only True Writer And The Only True Reader.

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.

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

People Who Read Me Seem To Be Divided Into Four Groups: Twenty-five Percent Like Me For The Right Reasons; Twenty-five Percent Like Me For The Wrong Reasons; Twenty-five Percent Hate Me For The Wrong Reasons; Twenty-five Percent Hate Me For The Right Reasons. It's That Last Twenty-five Percent That Worries Me.

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.

Talking Is A Hydrant In The Yard And Writing Is A Faucet Upstairs In The House. Opening The First Takes The Pressure Off The Second.

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

Poets Are Like Baseball Pitchers. Both Have Their Moments. The Intervals Are The Tough Things.

In Heaven We Are All Ghostwriters, If We Write At All.

An Idea Comes As Near To Something For Nothing As You Can Get.

"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.

One Could Do Worse Than Be A Swinger Of Birches.

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.

They Would Not Find Me Changed From Him They Knew - Only More Sure Of All I Thought Was True.

Writing A Poem Is Discovering.

Many Lovers Have Been Divorced By Having What Is Free Enforced.

I Came From A Very Intellectual Neighborhood. When We Played Cowboys And Indians As Kids, I Had To Be Gandhi.

Nature Is Always Hinting At Us.

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

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.

Yet Some Say Love By Being Thrall And Simply Staying Possesses All In Several Beauty That Thought Fares Far To Find Fused In Another Star.

Something There Is That Doesn't Love A Wall, And Wants It Down.

A Liberal Is A Man Too Broadminded To Take His Own Side In A Quarrel.

You've Got To Be Brave And You've Got To Be Bold. Brave Enough To Take Your Chance On Your Own Discrimination, What's Right And What's Wrong, What's Good And What's Bad.

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.

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

Don't Be Agnostic - Be Something.

Both T.s. Eliot And I Like To Play, But I Like To Play Euchre, While He Likes To Play Eucharist.

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.

I'm Always Saying Something That's Just The Edge Of Something More.

Pressed Into Service Means Pressed Out Of Shape.

The First Thing I Do In Any Town I Come To Is Ask If It Has A Bookstore.

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.

Nature's Never Quite Sure She Hasn't Erred In Her Vague Design.

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.

Unless You Are Educated In Metaphor, You Are Not Safe To Be Let Loose In The World.

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

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?

Trending Author

Woody Harrelson

Category