Frost Quotes

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.

We love the things we love for what they are.

These woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.

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.

Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.

No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.

Freedom lies in being bold.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.

Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

I'm saying that I'm a moody, insecure, narrow-minded, jealous, borderline homicidal bitch, and I want you to promise me that you're okay with that, because it's who I am, and you're what I need.

If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane.

The Road Not Taken 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; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

The best way out is always through.

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

If you run from me, I will chase you, and I'll find you....

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.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

I am not a teacher, but an awakener.

If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we’ll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)

It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon.

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.

Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.

Ask me if I sparkle and I’ll kill you where you stand.” (Bones)

I was just telling Claire about a guy I met in bread class. I hate him, but he could be my soul mate.

It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death." "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you will find in the arena. Say it's a gigantic cake-

The rain to the wind said, You push and I'll pelt.' They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged--though not dead. I know how the flowers felt.

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

You called her Kitten? And she let you? She put me in a coma for three days when I called her that! My balls never recovered from her smashing them into my spine!

Sometimes its necessary to embrace the magic, to find out what's real in life, and in one's own heart.

She finally understood that, no matter how hard you try, you can't make someone love you. You can't stop them from making the wrong decision. There's no magic for that.

Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up.

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.

When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost work, but the solidest things we can know.

Forgive me my nonsense as I also forgive the nonsense of those who think they talk sense.

I'm not confused. I'm just well mixed.

You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed.

Would you mind repeating that? I'm afraid I might have lost my wits altogether and just hallucinated what I've longed to hear.

So dawn goes down today... Nothing gold can stay. -- Robert Frost

A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age.

I will love you always. When this red hair is white, I will still love you. When the smooth softness of youth is replaced by the delicate softness of age, I will still want to touch your skin. When your face is full of the lines of every smile you have ever smiled, of every surprise I have seen flash through your eyes, when every tear you have ever cried has left its mark upon your face,I will treasure you all the more, because I was there to see it all. I will share your life with you, Meredith, and I will love you until the last breath leaves your body or mine.

Oh, please. Everyone in this town always says that, like you have to be born here to understand things. I understand plenty. You're only as weird as you want to be.

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.

Don't kiss me like a woman if you're going to treat me like a child.

Lucifer's bouncing balls, Kitten, not again!

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.

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.

The Waverley sisters hadn't been close as children, but they were as thick as thieves now, the way adult siblings often are, the moment they realize that family is actually a choice.

I hold it to be the inalienable right of anybody to go to hell in his own way.

Juan gave Bones the most admiring look he’d bestowed on him yet. “You talked her into going without panties all these years? Madre de Dios, now that’s impressive. I could learn a great deal from you, amigo.

The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.

I think we need to have a little talk, woman to skank.

The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to the ocean- Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.

She's my kitten, and no one else's.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

I know, too, that death is the only god who comes when you call.

You're not a woman," he said finally. "You're the Grim Reaper with red hair!

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

He f**ks even better than he looks”, I settled on saying. Several heads turned. I didn’t care; I was pissed. “And that beautiful face is going to be clamped between my legs as soon as we get home, don’t you worry.

Was it really that simple? Choosing a life? ... Maybe you don't fall in love. Maybe you jump. Maybe, just maybe, it's all a choice. (Josh Matteson)

I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better.

Where are you, bloodsuckers? Here, fangy, fangy, fangy...

We ran as if to meet the moon.

I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those held a candle to the pain I felt at seeing his mouth on hers.

Why don't I just give you a pair of my panties to hang around your neck? Then whenever you feel jealous, you can wave them at whoever's pissing you off.

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.

What the hell was that?” I gasped. “Premature inflammation,” he replied. “Happens sometimes. Very embarrassing. I don’t like to talk about it.

The apple tree in the background, just barely visible, was stretching a single limb out to her, as if wanting to be in the photo with her.

A mother takes twenty years to make a man of her boy, and another woman makes a fool of him in twenty minutes.

How many things would you attempt If you knew you could not fail

Kitten, you need to make a decision. Either we stay here and behave or we leave now and I promise you”—his voice dipped lower and the words fell against my lips—“if we leave, I won’t behave.

I am going to knock the slut out of you. And that should take some doing, you uppity English tramp!

Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?” “In this case, it’s a stake. You could always feel around for something more, though. See what comes up.

We dance round in a ring and suppose, But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.

Let's go, Kitten, before you kill someone else. -Bones

The reason why worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work.

Yeah, Life is a bitch and then you get stabbed.

We're going to knock those demons out and slay them with the power of Jesus. Hallelujah, can I get an amen?- Timmie

Do you think I’m pretty?” I heard myself ask. Something I couldn’t name flashed across his face. “No. I don’t think you’re pretty. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

Aside from the obvious, Francesca, what do you want in return for supplying information?” Bones asked, getting back to the subject. “You to take me,” she replied at once. “Not gonna happen!” I spat, squeezing him possessively. Three sets of widened eyes fixed on me. That’s when I realized that what I had a firm grip on was no longer his hand.

I love you. You have no idea what you are worth to me.

Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves.

A jury consists of twelve persons chosen to decide who has the better lawyer.

There is only one way to fight, and that's dirty. Clean gentlemanly fighting will get you nowhere but dead, and fast. Take every cheap shot, every low blow, absolutely kick people when they're down, and maybe you'll be the one who walks away.

The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked. She was sobbing. Bawling. Crying so hard her whole body was shaking. He didn't ask any questions, just wrapped himself around her. I'm not okay," she said hoarsely between breaths. "Rhage...I'm not okay.

Get stuffed, don't you have more publicity stunts to pull?" Bones shot back. "How about chatting with another writer who can smear your name into greater popularity?" "What, did Anne Rice not return your calls, mate?" Vlad asked scathingly. "Jealousy is such an ugly trait.

I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain - and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

Actually, Justina, I didn't just ring you to chat about what an undead murderer I was...right, degenerate whore as well. Did I ever tell you my mum was one? No? Oh, blimey, I come from a long line of whores, in fact I called to give you the good news. I asked you daughter to marry me. Now, do you want me to call you Mum straightaway, or wait until after the wedding?

You done with work? Yep, at home waiting for you. Now that's a nice visual... Prepare yourself, I'm taking bread out of the oven. Don't tease me woman...zucchini? Cranberry orange. Mmmm... No woman has ever done breakfast bread foreplay the way you do. Ha! When you coming? Can't. Drive. Straight. Can we have one conversation when you're not twelve? Sorry, I'll be there in 30 Perfect, that will give me time to frost my buns. Pardon me? Oh, didn't I tell you? I also made cinnamon rolls. Be there in 25.

We fatties have a bond, dude. It's like a secret society. We got all kinds of shit you don't know about. Handshakes, special fat people dances-we got these secret fugging lairs in the center of the earth and we go down there in the middle of the night when all the skinny kids are sleeping and eat cake and friend chicken and shit. Why d'you think Hollis is still sleeping, kafir? Because we were up all night in the secret lair injecting butter frosting into our veins. ...A fatty trusts another fatty.

Right, then, mate, terribly sorry for my unspeakable rudeness, and I do beg your pardon. I can only say that it was caused by my natural affront to the notion of her as my sister. Since I'll be shagging her tonight, you can imagine how I'd be distressed at the thought of rogering my sibling" "You shmuck! The only thing you'll be shagging tonight is yourself!" "You wanted sincerity, well, luv, I was sincere.

Then you remember the dream,” Mencheres stated. “That bodes ill.”   The fear of that made my reply snappy. “Hey, Walks Like An Egyptian, how about for once you drop the formal stuff and talk like you live in the twenty-first century?”   The shit’s gonna splatter, start buggin’, yo,” Mencheres responded instantly.   I stared at him, then burst out laughing, which was highly inappropriate considering the very grave warning he’d just conveyed.

Before we go, I gotta know: If mind-reading abilities are real, there's something else I wondered if fiction got right about vampires-" "Ask me if I sparkle and I'll kill you where you stand," Bones cut him off with utmost seriousness.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Language is my whore, my mistress, my wife, my pen-friend, my check-out girl. Language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or handy freshen-up wipette. Language is the breath of God, the dew on a fresh apple, it's the soft rain of dust that falls into a shaft of morning sun when you pull from an old bookshelf a forgotten volume of erotic diaries; language is the faint scent of urine on a pair of boxer shorts, it's a half-remembered childhood birthday party, a creak on the stair, a spluttering match held to a frosted pane, the warm wet, trusting touch of a leaking nappy, the hulk of a charred Panzer, the underside of a granite boulder, the first downy growth on the upper lip of a Mediterranean girl, cobwebs long since overrun by an old Wellington boot.

On the day the tree bloomed in the fall, when its white apple blossoms fell and covered the ground like snow, it was tradition for the Waverleys to gather in the garden like survivors of some great catastrophe, hugging one another, laughing as they touched faces and arms, making sure they were all okay, grateful to have gotten through it.

Acquainted with the Night I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, One luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night.