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I learned you can't trust the judgment of good friends.

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
Good
Judgment
Trust
Learned
Friends

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
Carl Sandburg
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Man is a long time coming. Man will yet win. Brother may yet line up with brother: This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.There are men who can't be bought.
Carl Sandburg
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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.
Carl Sandburg
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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.
Carl Sandburg
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Yesterday and tomorrow cross and mix on the skyline. The two are lost in a purple haze. One forgets, one waits.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.
Carl Sandburg
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Money is power, freedom, a cushion, the root of all evil, the sum of blessings.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is a fresh morning spider-web telling a story of moonlit hours of weaving and waiting during a night.
Carl Sandburg
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When I was writing pretty poor poetry, this girl with midnight black hair told me to go on.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is a mock of a cry at finding a million dollars and a mock of a laugh at losing it.
Carl Sandburg
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To work hard, to live hard, to die hard, and then go to hell after all would be too damned hard.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is a tracing of the trajectories of a finite sound to the infinite points of its echoes.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
Carl Sandburg
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Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers.
Carl Sandburg
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I have in later years taken to Euclid, Whitehead, Bertrand Russell, in an elemental way.
Carl Sandburg
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Poetry is the arithmetic of the easiest way and the primrose path, matched up with foam-flanked horses, bloody knuckles, and bones, on the hard ways to the stars.
Carl Sandburg
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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.
Carl Sandburg
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Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
Carl Sandburg
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We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.
Carl Sandburg