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Now no joy but lacks salt,
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.

— Robert Frost New Hampshire (1923)

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More quotes by Robert Frost

Everything written is as good as it is dramatic. It need not declare itself in form, but it is drama or nothing.

Preface to A Way Out: A One-act Play (1929)

The world is full of willing people; some willing to work, the rest willing to let them.

It is the future that creates his present.
All is an interminable chain of longing.

In the Clearing (1962)

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

North of Boston (1914)

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

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Robert Frost (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.