Robert Frost

Courage is of the heart by derivation,_x000D_ _x000D_ And great it is. But fear is of the soul.

Courage is in the air in bracing whiffs_x000D_ _x000D_ Better than all the stalemate an's and ifs.

One luminary clock against the sky_x000D_ _x000D_ Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

The difference between a job and a career is the difference between forty and sixty hours a week.

Fireflies in the Garden By Robert Frost 1874–1963 Here come real stars to fill the upper skies, And here on earth come emulating flies, That though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart) Achieve at times a very star-like start. Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

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.

Hope is not found in a way out but a way through.

You, of course, are a rose-- But were always a rose.

How many things have to happen to you before something occurs to you?

Families break up when they get hints you don't intend and miss hints that you do.

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.

You've got to love what's lovable, and hate what's hateable. It takes brains to see the difference.

Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season?

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 believe in teaching, but I don’t believe in going to school.

One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak.

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.

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.

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.

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