Maxioms by Robert Frost
Ah, when to the heart of man was it ever less than a treason to go with the drift of read more
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 at the end of a love or a season.
Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.
Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.
There is nothing as mysterious as something clearly seen
There is nothing as mysterious as something clearly seen
Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.
Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.
No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
