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.
Robert FrostRead
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.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the idea of misinterpretation and personal offense in communication.
In this quote, Robert Frost illustrates how individuals often misinterpret others' intentions, seeing every action or remark as a personal affront. The metaphor of 'a feather in his tail' symbolizes a small, insignificant thing that one might be tempted to take too seriously, emphasizing how personal biases can distort understanding and communication between people.
In practice
In a discussion about interpersonal relationships, this quote can highlight the importance of clear communication.
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.
You have freedom when you're easy in your harness.
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
'Warm in December, cold in June, you say?' _x000D_ _x000D_ I don't suppose the water's changed at all. _x000D_ _x000D_ You and I know enough to know it's warm _x000D_ _x000D_ Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm. _x000D_ _x000D_ But all the fun's in how you say a thing.
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.
The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.
Imagination is the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow.
We live in an age in which there is no heroic death.
The virtues we acquire, which develop slowly within us, are the invisible links that bind each one of our existences to the others - existences which the spirit alone remembers, for Matter has no memory for spiritual things.
In a sense, mass incarceration has emerged as a far more extreme form of physical and residential segregation than Jim Crow segregation. Rather than merely shunting people of color to the other side of town, people are locked in literal cages - en masse.
I think that ideas exist outside of ourselves. I think somewhere, we're all connected off in some very abstract land. But somewhere between there and here ideas exist.
Not to be born is undoubtedly the best plan of all. Unfortunately, it is within no one's reach.
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