“A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.”
Robert Frost
Tags: Begins | Homesickness | Lump | Poem | Sense | Throat | Wrong
Topics: Poetry
55% of people like this quote
Robert Frost
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My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.
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