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Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.

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
Runs
Reach
Joy
Happiness
Running
Keep
Hands
Take

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People lie because they don't remember clear what they saw. People lie because they can't help making a story better than it was the way it happened.
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Hog butcher for the world, Tool maker, stacker of wheat, Player with railroads and the nation's freight handler Stormy, husky, brawling, City of big shoulders.
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There are some people who can receive a truth by no other way than to have their understanding shocked and insulted.
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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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Here is the difference between Dante, Milton, and me. They wrote about hell and never saw the place. I wrote about Chicago after looking the town over for years and years.
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Newspapers tell beforehand what is going to happen - maybe.
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Be careful with your words, once they are said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten.
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POETRY: A sliver of the moon lost in the belly of a golden frog.
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I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.
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To never see a fool you lock yourself in your room and smash the looking-glass.
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Who else speaks for the Family of Man? They are in tune and step with constellations of universal law.
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The woman named Tomorrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time
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Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
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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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Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
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Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.
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Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
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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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Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
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a women is like a tea bag.it's only when she is in hot water that you realize how strong she is.
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