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I. Frost's Selected QuotationsEverything at Amazon by and about: Simon and Garfunkel
All lies and jest, still, a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.
Homeward bound. I wish I was homeward bound.
If I had never loved I never would have cried." -
"In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminder of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame 'I am leaving I am leaving' but the fighter still remained." -
I'd rather be a hammer than a nail.
The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls.
Fools, said I, you do not know, silence like a cancer grows.
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left of you.
I'm on your side, when times get rough, and friends just can't be found, like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.
The only truth I know is you.
When you're weary, feeling small, when tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.
I am a rock, I am an island. And a rock feels no pain. And an island never cries.
If I never loved, I never would have cried.
All my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity.
Time of innocense, a time of confidences, long ago it must be.
When you say Dylan, he thinks you're talking about Dylan Thomas, whoever he was.
You read your Emily Dickinson and I my Robert Frost, and we note our place with bookmarkers that measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written we are verses out of rhythm, couplets out of rhyme in syncopated time.
My words like silent raindrops fell, and echoed in the well of silence.
Blessed are the meth drinkers, pot sellers, illusion dwellers. Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me?
I've been Rolling Stoned and Beatled 'til I'm blind.
Your time has come to shine, all your dreams are on their way.
I held her close, but she faded in the night like a poem I meant to write.
I watch her breasts gently rise, gently fall.
Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia up in my bedroom. I got up to wash my face, when I came back to bed, someone has taken my place.
Monkeys stand for honesty.
After changes upon changes we are more or less the same.
People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening, people writing songs that voices never share, and no one dare distrurb the sound of silence
Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio? A nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on.
A vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains within the sound of silence.
I have squandered my resistance for a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises.
I've learned the truth from Lenny Bruce.
Life I love you, all is groovy.
Slow down, you move too fast, got to make the morning last.
Through the corridors of sleep past the shadows dark and deep, my mind dances and leaps in confusion. I don't know what is real I can't touch what I feel, and I hide behind the shield of my illusion.
Time, time, time, see what's become of me, while I looked around for my possibilities.
On a tour of one night stands, my suitcase and guitar at hand, and every stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one man band.
Just a come-on from the whores on 7th Avenue. I do declare, there were times I was so lonesome I took some comfort there.
Hello, lamp post, whatcha knowin'? I've come to watch your flowers growin'.
Wish I was a Kellogg's Cornflakes floating in my bowl.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
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