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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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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
Girl
Black
Midnight
Writing
Poetry
Hair
Told
Pretty
Literature
Poor

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To never see a fool you lock yourself in your room and smash the looking-glass.
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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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The simple dignity of a child drinking a bowl of milk embodies the fascination of an ancient rite.
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Shame is the feeling you have when you agree with the woman who loves you that you are the man she thinks you are.
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There are people who want to be everywhere at once, and they get nowhere
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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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The greatest certainty in life is death. The greatest uncertainty is the time.
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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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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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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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Poetry is a fresh morning spider-web telling a story of moonlit hours of weaving and waiting during a night.
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Poetry is a projection across silence of cadences arranged to break that silence with definite intentions of echoes, syllables, wave lengths.
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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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By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
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What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?
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A tree is best measured when it is down - and so it is with people.
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Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
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To those who had ordered them to death, one of them said: “We die because the people are asleep and you will die because the people will awaken.”
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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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I have often wondered what it is an old building can do to you when you happen to know a little about things that went on long ago in that building.
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