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Exlpore more Humor quotes

"Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something."

"Ma'am,' Augustus said, nodding toward her, 'your daughter's car has just been deservedly egged by a blind man. Please close the door and go back inside or we'll be forced to call the police.' After wavering for a moment, Monica's mom closed the door and disappeared."

"At this, Gansey rolled over onto his back and folded his hands on his chest. He wore a salmon polo shirt, which, in Blue's opinion, was far more hellish than anything they'd discussed to this point."

"I liked that he was a tenured professor in the Department of Slightly Crooked Smiles with a dual appointments in the Department of Having a Voice that Made My Skin Feel More Like Skin."

"What is it with you today? says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are stillswollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face."Oh, you know, I say. "Sun shining. Birds chirping.She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an undergroundtunnel."
Explore more quotes by Robert Frost


"Style is that which indicates how the writer takes himself and what he is saying. It is the mind skating circles around itself as it moves forward."


"I have stood still and stopped the sound of feetWhen far away an interrupted cryCame over houses from another street,But not to call me back or say good-bye;And further still at an unearthly height,A luminary clock against the skyProclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.I have been one acquainted with the night."


"The best things and best people rise out of their separateness; I'm against a homogenized society because I want the cream to rise."


"Part of a moon was falling down the west,Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.Its light poured softly in her lap. She sawAnd spread her apron to it. She put out her handAmong the harp-like morning-glory strings,Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,As if she played unheard the tendernessThat wrought on him beside her in the night."


"A poem is never a put-up job, so to speak. It begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with."


"They would not find me changed from him they knew - only more sure of all I thought was true."


"Talking is a hydrant in the yard and writing is a faucet upstairs in the house. Opening the first takes the pressure off the second."
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