Robert Frost Middle School Fairfax County

Famous quotes containing the words robert frost, robert, frost, middle, school and/or county:

    A speck that would have been beneath my sight
    On any but a paper sheet so white
    Set off across what I had written there.
    Robert Frost (1874–1963)

    That’s my problem, chaplain: I’m yellow. PFC Bernstein—plumb, fat coward. Hey, can you get a Section 8 for being yellow?
    James Poe, U.S. screenwriter, and Based On Play. Robert Aldrich. Bernstein (Robert Strauss)

    A little Morgan had one forefoot on the wall,
    The other curled at his breast. He dipped his head
    And snorted at us. And then he had to bolt.
    We heard the miniature thunder where he fled,
    —Robert Frost (1874–1963)

    There is singularly nothing that makes a difference a difference in beginning and in the middle and in ending except that each generation has something different at which they are all looking. By this I mean so simply that anybody knows it that composition is the difference which makes each and all of them then different from other generations and this is what makes everything different otherwise they are all alike and everybody knows it because everybody says it.
    Gertrude Stein (1874–1946)

    The child to be concerned about is the one who is actively unhappy, [in school].... In the long run, a child’s emotional development has a far greater impact on his life than his school performance or the curriculum’s richness, so it is wise to do everything possible to change a situation in which a child is suffering excessively.
    Dorothy H. Cohen (20th century)

    Don’t you know there are 200 temperance women in this county who control 200 votes. Why does a woman work for temperance? Because she’s tired of liftin’ that besotted mate of hers off the floor every Saturday night and puttin’ him on the sofa so he won’t catch cold. Tonight we’re for temperance. Help yourself to them cloves and chew them, chew them hard. We’re goin’ to that festival tonight smelling like a hot mince pie.
    Laurence Stallings (1894–1968)