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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.
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
Things
Building
Went
Happen
Often
Happens
Littles
Little
Long
Wondered
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
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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A liar goes in fine clothes, a liar goes in rags, a liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.
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Nothing happens unless first we dream.
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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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If I added to their pride of America, I am happy.
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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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When I was writing pretty poor poetry, this girl with midnight black hair told me to go on.
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There is an eagle in me that wants to soar.
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What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
Carl Sandburg
The buffaloes are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
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I had taken a course in Ethics. I read a thick textbook, heard the class discussions and came out of it saying I hadn't learned a thing I didn't know before about morals and what is right or wrong in human conduct.
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Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
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Poetry is a type-font design for an alphabet of fun, hate, love, death.
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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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An expert is a damn fool a long way from home.
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Corn wind in the fall, come off the black lands, come off the whisper of the silk hangers, the lap of the flat spear leaves.
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A tough will counts. So does desire.So does a rich soft wanting.Without rich wanting nothing arrives.
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Poetry is an enumeration of birds, bees, babies, butterflies, bugs, bambinos, babayagas, and bipeds, beating their way up bewildering bastions.
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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.
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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.
Carl Sandburg