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"The ArmfulFor every parcel I stoop down to seizeI lose some other off my arms and knees,And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns,Extremes too hard to comprehend at. onceYet nothing I should care to leave behind.With all I have to hold with hand and mindAnd heart, if need be, I will do my best.To keep their building balanced at my breast.I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;Then sit down in the middle of them all.I had to drop the armful in the roadAnd try to stack them in a better load."
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Exlpore more Reflection quotes
"Solitude is a wonderful treasure the world is still yet to discover."
"The question "who am I" is the first question that every person should ask himself."
"The time we are living in is a significant time."
"Every human being is a reflection of this universe."
"Find a place to think and a person to love and be happy."
"To be a mirror of God's love is to show Jesus by one's way of living."
"I get lost in the magical beauty that is all around me. My mind is an enchanted magician who mysteriously creates all of that magnificent beauty."
"Find time to admire and appreciate the glittering lights on snowflakes."
"The purpose of our activities on earth must go beyond bread and butter or merely surviving."
"When people smile at a rich man, they are smiling at his wallet."
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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