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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
Give
Come
Giving
Sometime
Conflict
Nobody
Peace
War

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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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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In democracy both a deep reverence and a sense of the comic are requisite.
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Such a Big miracle in such a tiny baby. Big things often have small beginnings A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.
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Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.
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So I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them: Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
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Calling it off comes easy enough if you haven't told the girl you are smitten with her.
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Lips half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers.
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I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.
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I am the people the mob the crowd the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
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The people will live on.The learning and blundering people will live on.
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There are people who want to be everywhere at once, and they get nowhere
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Poetry is a slipknot tightened around a time-beat of one thought, two thoughts, and a last interweaving thought there is not yet a number for.
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Nothing happens... but first a dream.
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Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration.
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An expert is a damn fool a long way from home.
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Poetry is a type-font design for an alphabet of fun, hate, love, death.
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I been a wanderin' Early and late, New York City To the Golden Gate An' it looks like I'm never gonna cease my Wanderin'.
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Tongues wrangled dark at a man. He buttoned his overcoat and stood alone. In a snowstorm, red hollyberries, thoughts, he stood alone.
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And those who say, I'll try anything once, often try nothing twice, three times, arriving late at the gate of dreams worth dying for.
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Somebody's little girl- how easy it is to make a sob story over who she once was and who she now is.
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