"Art is the last of your childhood and may be followed somewhat irresponsibly."
Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year.He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.The only other sound's the sweepOf 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.
"You go to school to learn to read. The further you go the more you have the attitude that everything is to study. That is the danger. Once a person has learned to read, once he has gotten the flavor of it, he should just let it rest."
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.
"The only trouble with dying is not knowing how it will all turn out."
"We regret that The Atlantic has no place for your vigorous verse."
"The Ellery Sedgwick of the piece is mine ancient enemy, the editor of The Atlantic."
"His poems have helped to guide American thought and humor and wisdom, setting forth to our minds a reliable representation of ourselves and of all men."
"He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."