“A poem...begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.”
More from Robert Frost
“So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.”
“Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee, and I'll forgive Thy great big joke on me.”
“Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.”
“The desolate, deserted trees, The faded earth, the heavy sky, The beauties she so truly…”