Frost Famous Quotes

These are all direct quotes, except every time they use a curse word, I'm going to use the name of a famous American poet: 'You Walt Whitman-ing, Edna St. Vincent Millay! Go Emily Dickinson your mom!' 'Thanks for the advice, you pathetic piece of E.E. Cummings, but I think I'm gonna pass.' 'You Robert Frost-ing Nikki Giovanni! Get a life, nerd. You're a virgin.' 'Hey bro, you need to go outside and get some fresh air into you. Or a girlfriend.' I need to get a girlfriend into me? I think that shows a fundamental lack of comprehension about how babies are made.

Khloe Kinsella, Lexa Reed, Cole Harris, Drew Adams, Taylor Frost, Carina Johansson, Clare Bryant, Brielle Monaco, Zack Reynolds, Garret van Camp

Come to think of it, pet, you are a liar, possessor of false identification, and a murderer.” “Your point?” I snapped. “Not to mention a tease,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Foulmouthed, as well. Yep, you and I will get along famously.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a pumpkin spice muffin with walnuts that was as moist as anything. "It can be plain for breakfast or I can top it with cream cheese frosting. I like a muffin that can go from day to evening." I gave it to her. She sniffed it, nodded, and held it up. "How do I know you're not trying to poison me?" I wasn't expecting that question. "Ms. Morningstar, I swear, if I was going to poison you, I wouldn't ruin a perfectly fine muffin to do it.

Covid in the past year, we all have a much clearer sense of what matters. Go figure—it’s not the promotion, or the raise, or the fancy car, or the private jet. It’s not getting into an Ivy League school or completing an Ironman or being famous. It’s not adding an extra shift or staying late because your boss expects it of you. Instead, it is taking the time to see how beautiful frost looks on a window. It’s being able to hug your mom or hold your grandchild. It’s having no expectations but taking nothing for

I have been enormously impressed by the role that pure chance plays in determining our life history. I was reminded of some famous lines of Robert Frost: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both I took the one less travled by, And that has made all the difference. As I recalled my own experience and development, I was impressed by the series of lucky accidents that determined the road I traveled. > From "Lives of the Laureates" pg.67

The Death of the Poor”, by Baudelaire; that helped me enormously.’ The sublime verses came back to me immediately, as if they had always been present in a corner of my consciousness, as if my whole life had only been a more or less explicit commentary on them: Death, alas! consoles and brings to life; The end of it all, the solitary hope; We, drunk on death’s elixir, face the strife, Take heart, and climb till dusk the weary slope. All through the storm, the frost, and the snow, Death on our black horizon pulses clear; Death is the famous inn that we all know, Where we can rest and sleep and have good cheer.

I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine. And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning glad I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

Daniel's wings were concealed, but he must have sensed her eyeing the place where they unfurled from his shoulders. "When everything is in order, we'll fly wherever we have to go to stop Lucifer. Until then it's better to stay low to the ground." "Okay," Luce said. "Race you to the other side?" Her breath frosted the air. "You know I'd beat you." "True." He slipped an arm around her waist, warming her. "Maybe we'd better take the boat, then. Protect my famous pride." She watched him unmoor a small metal rowboat from a boat slip. The soft light on the water made her think back to the day they'd raced across the secret lake at Sword & Cross. His skin had glistened as they had pulled themselves up to the flat rock in the center to catch their breath, then had lain on the sun-warmed stone, letting the day's heat dry their bodies. She'd barely known Daniel then-she hadn't known he was an angel-and already she'd been dangerously in love with him. "We used to swim together in my lifetime in Tahiti, didn't we?" she asked, surprised to remember another time she'd seen Daniel's hair glisten with water. Daniel stared at her and she knew how much it meant to him finally to be able to share some of his memories of their past. He looked so moved that Luce thought he might cry. Instead he kissed her forehead tenderly and said, "You beat me all those times, too, Lulu." They didn't talk much as Daniel rowed. It was enough for Luce to watch the way his muscles strained and flexed each time he dragged back, hearing the oars dip into and out of the cold water, breathing in the brine of the ocean.

Under the root *( of the Ash Yggdrasil ) that goes to the frost giants is the Well of Mimir. Wisdom and Intelligence are hidden there, and Mimir is the name of the well's owner. He is full of wisdom because he drinks of the well from the Gjallarhorn. All-father went there and asked for one drink from the well, but he did not get this until he gave one of his eyes as a pledge. As it says in The Sibyl's Prophesy : Odin, I know all, where you hid the eye in that famous Well of Mimir. Each morning Mimir drinks mead from Val-Father's pledge. Do you know now or what ? ( The Sibyl's Prophesy. 28 )

There’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and get lost in a sea of blue. A Jersey-accented voice says, “It’s about time, kid,” and Frank Sinatra rattles the ice in his glass of Jack Daniel’s. Looking at the swirling deep-brown liquid, he whispers, “Ain’t it beautiful?” This is my introduction to the Chairman of the Board. We spend the next half hour talking Jersey, Hoboken, swimming in the Hudson River and the Shore. We then sit down for dinner at a table with Robert De Niro, Angie Dickinson and Frank and his wife, Barbara. This is all occurring at the Hollywood “Guinea Party” Patti and I have been invited to, courtesy of Tita Cahn. Patti had met Tita a few weeks previous at the nail parlor. She’s the wife of Sammy Cahn, famous for such songs as “All The Way,” “Teach Me Tonight” and “Only the Lonely.” She called one afternoon and told us she was hosting a private event. She said it would be very quiet and couldn’t tell us who would be there, but assured us we’d be very comfortable. So off into the LA night we went. During the evening, we befriend the Sinatras and are quietly invited into the circle of the last of the old Hollywood stars. Over the next several years we attend a few very private events where Frank and the remaining clan hold forth. The only other musician in the room is often Quincy Jones, and besides Patti and I there is rarely a rocker in sight. The Sinatras are gracious hosts and our acquaintance culminates in our being invited to Frank’s eightieth birthday party dinner. It’s a sedate event at the Sinatras’ Los Angeles home. Sometime after dinner, we find ourselves around the living room piano with Steve and Eydie Gorme and Bob Dylan. Steve is playing the piano and up close he and Eydie can really sing the great standards. Patti has been thoroughly schooled in jazz by Jerry Coker, one of the great jazz educators at the Frost School of Music at the University of Miami. She was there at the same time as Bruce Hornsby, Jaco Pastorius and Pat Metheny, and she learned her stuff. At Frank’s, as the music drifts on, she slips gently in on “My One and Only Love.” Patti is a secret weapon. She can sing torch like a cross between Peggy Lee and Julie London (I’m not kidding). Eydie Gorme hears Patti, stops the music and says, “Frank, come over here. We’ve got a singer!” Frank moves to the piano and I then get to watch my wife beautifully serenade Frank Sinatra and Bob Dylan, to be met by a torrent of applause when she’s finished. The next day we play Frank’s eightieth birthday celebration for ABC TV and I get to escort him to the stage along with Tony Bennett. It’s a beautiful evening and a fitting celebration for the greatest pop singer of all time. Two years later Frank passed away and we were generously invited to his funeral. A

Living the Shaivite life implies constant attention to energy. When we move in the right direction, energy increases and expands. When we go in the wrong direction, we become depleted. All the negative matrikas and negative emotions deplete us. Abhinavagupta says that it is not thought that is the real problem, but doubt. Doubt creates a block in Consciousness. The mind says, maybe this, maybe that; maybe yes, maybe no. This creates a tension and freezes a person at the place of doubt. He no longer flows in Consciousness. In fact, Consciousness is hidden by uncertainty. He cannot move until the doubt is overcome or turned away. I have already quoted Shiva Sutras I.17, which says: Vitarka atmajnanam The knowledge of the Self is conviction. Only certainty leads to knowledge of the Self, and certainty only comes from higher things, not from the world of opinion. The Shiva yogi lives his life with courage and passion. If you are in the woods with two paths leading away from a clearing, like the hero in the famous poem by Robert Frost, if you are full of doubt and do not act, then you never leave the clearing. A Shaivite knows that all roads lead to Shiva, and Shiva has infinite faces. He knows that it is far better to take either path and walk it. If it is the wrong path, he will learn it quickly enough. In the highest sense there can be no wrong choice since there is nowhere to wander away from Shiva.

Nearly every morning of his life, Mister Rogers has gone swimming, and now, here he is, standing in a locker room, seventy years old and as white as the Easter Bunny, rimed with frost wherever he has hair, gnawed pink in the spots where his dry skin has gone to flaking, slightly wattled at the neck, slightly stooped at the shoulder, slightly sunken in the chest, slightly curvy at the hips, slightly pigeoned at the toes, slightly aswing at the fine bobbing nest of himself… and yet when he speaks, it is in that voice, his voice, the famous one, the unmistakable one, the televised one, the voice dressed in sweater and sneakers, the soft one, the reassuring one, the curious and expository one, the sly voice that sounds adult to the ears of children and childish to the ears of adults, and what he says, in the midst of all his bobbing nudity, is as understated as it is obvious: "Well, Tom, I guess you've already gotten a deeper glimpse into my daily routine than most people have.

Robert Frost famously wrote that home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

Robert Frost famously wrote that home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. The word “tribe” is far harder to define, but a start might be the people you feel compelled to share the last of your food with.

I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me; I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be; I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way. I'd like to do the big things and the splendid things for you, To brush the gray out of your skies and leave them only blue; I'd like to say the kindly things that I so oft have heard, And feel that I could rouse your soul the way that mine you've stirred. I'd like to give back the joy that you have given me, Yet that were wishing you a need I hope will never be; I'd like to make you feel as rich as I, who travel on Undaunted in the darkest hours with you to lean upon. I'm wishing at this Christmas time that I could but repay A portion of the gladness that you've strewn along the way; And could I have one wish this year, this only would it be: I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me.

THERE WAS ANOTHER, much bigger risk we took that first season. Based on a literal back-of-a-napkin pitch at a restaurant in Hollywood, ABC’s head of drama had given the go-ahead to a pilot from David Lynch, by then famous for his cult films Eraserhead and Blue Velvet, and the screenwriter and novelist Mark Frost. It was a surreal, meandering drama about the murder of a prom queen, Laura Palmer, in the fictional Pacific Northwest town of Twin Peaks. David directed the two-hour pilot, which I vividly remember watching for the first time and thinking, This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen and we have to do this.

She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; 'The curse is come upon me,' cried The Lady of Shalott.

Recipe Hello from Honey Hollow! Lottie here! I hope you’re in the mood for something devilishly delicious. My famous, or rather infamous devil’s food cake is well—to die for. If you have a serious hankering for chocolate, you will not regret this. But be warned, your entire home will hold the scent of warm, tempting chocolate. It is rather hard to resist. Happy baking! From the kitchen of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery Devil’s Food Cake 1½ cup of softened butter ¾ cup unsweetened baking coco 2 cups sugar 3 eggs 3 cups sifted all-purpose flour ¼ tsp salt 1 ½ tsp baking soda ¾ cup milk 1 cup hot water 1 tsp white distilled vinegar 1 tablespoon vanilla extract Instructions Preheat oven 350° Grease and dust with coco powder or flour, two 9 inch round pans or a 9x13 pan. *I prefer to use a stand mixer. Although mixing by hand works well, too. Mix and cream together coco, sugar, butter, milk and eggs. Slowly mix in one cup of hot water. Add flour, salt, baking soda, vinegar and vanilla extract. Pour into two pans evenly, or a single prepared pan. Bake at 350° for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the middle, comes out clean. Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery’s Go-to Chocolate Frosting Recipe 6 tablespoons softened butter ¾ cup unsweetened baking coco Pinch of salt 3 tablespoons hot water 1 ¾ cup of powdered sugar In a mixing bowl, cream butter, coco, salt, and water. Stir until it reaches a smooth finish. Slowly add in powdered sugar. Make sure it reaches your desired consistency. If it’s too thick, add a touch more water. If it’s too thin, add in a touch more powdered sugar. Frost your cooled devil’s food cake and enjoy!

Fair point, but if you truly believe in Roko’s basilisk, you can’t ever be one hundred percent sure it won’t follow through on its pre-commitment to punish.” At last, I see what Max is getting at—a brutal version of Pascal’s wager, the famous eighteenth-century philosophical argument that humans gamble with their lives on whether or not God exists. Pascal posited that we should conduct our lives as if God were real and try to believe in God. If God doesn’t exist, we will suffer a finite loss—degrees of pleasure and autonomy. If God exists, our gains will be infinitely greater—eternal life in heaven instead of an eternity of suffering in hell.

I thought about that man for the rest of my trip. I thought about him for the rest of my life. He’d been generous, yes, but lots of people are generous; what made him different was the fact that he’d taken responsibility for me. He’d spotted me from town and walked half a mile out a highway to make sure I was okay. Robert Frost famously wrote that home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. The word “tribe” is far harder to define, but a start might be the people you feel compelled to share the last of your food with. For reasons I’ll never know, the man in Gillette decided to treat me like a member of his tribe.