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
I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects a sense of longing and nostalgia for a distant past or place.
Robert Frost's quote expresses a deep emotional connection to a past experience or location that has been lost. The 'strangely aching heart' suggests a bittersweet feeling of reminiscence, where one acknowledges the beauty of what once was, even if it is now just a memory. This longing hints at the universal human experience of cherishing moments and places that have shaped our lives.
Themes
NostalgiaLongingMemoryEmotionLoss
In practice
Example use cases
During a speech about overcoming loss, one could reflect on this quote to emphasize the importance of acknowledging our memories.
More from Robert Frost
All quotes βYou have freedom when you're easy in your harness.
Robert FrostRead
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
Robert FrostRead
'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.
Robert FrostRead
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.
Robert FrostRead
The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.
Robert FrostRead
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Those who, like the beasts, have no such Hope, pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.
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Towns are after all excrescences, grey fluxions, where men, hurrying to find one another, have lost themselves.
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