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Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.

Carl Sandburg

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Carl Sandburg
Age: 89 †
Born: 1878
Born: January 6
Died: 1967
Died: July 22
Biographer
Historian
Journalist
Musicologist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Trade Unionist
Writer
Galesburg
Illinois
Carl August Sandburg
Come
Giving
Sometime
Conflict
Nobody
Peace
War
Give

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I am still studying verbs and the mystery of how they connect nouns. I am more suspicious of adjectives than at any other time in all my born days.
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If [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.
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The fog comes on little cat feet.
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Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, 'Oh!' and another, 'How?'
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The machine yes the machine never wastes anybody's time never watches the foreman never talks back.
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Faith is indispensable, and the world at times does not seem to have quite enough of it. It can and has accomplished what seems to be the impossible. Wars have been started and men and nations lost for the lack of it. Faith starts from the individual and builds men and nations. America was built by and on the faith of our ancestors.
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Love your neighbor as yourself but don't take down your fence.
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Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
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Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.
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Money is power, freedom, a cushion, the root of all evil, the sum of blessings.
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The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.
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Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
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Why does a hearse horse snicker, hauling a lawyer away?
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Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.
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All my life I have been trying to learn to read, to see and hear, and to write.
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I could safely declare, I am an idealist... I believe in everything - I am only looking for proofs.
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A liar goes in fine clothes, a liar goes in rags, a liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.
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Poetry is a dance music measuring buck-and-wing follies along with the gravest and stateliest dead-marches.
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Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.
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We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.
Carl Sandburg