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I have always felt that a woman has the right to treat the subject of her age with ambiguity until, perhaps, she passes into the realm of over ninety. Then it is better she be candid with herself and with the world.

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
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Woman
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More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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I've written some poetry I don't understand myself.
Carl Sandburg
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You know being born is important to you. You know nothing else was ever so important to you.
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Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.
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Poetry is a type-font design for an alphabet of fun, hate, love, death.
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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.
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Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.
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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.
Carl Sandburg
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I see America, not in the setting sun of a black night of despair ahead of us, I see America in the crimson light of a rising sun fresh from the burning, creative hand of God. I see great days ahead, great days possible to men and women of will and vision.
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The scholars and poets of an earlier time can be read only with a dictionary to help.
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Poetry is a dance music measuring buck-and-wing follies along with the gravest and stateliest dead-marches.
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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.
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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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Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your head.
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Now is the time. It is never too late to start something.
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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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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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A tree is best measured when it is down - and so it is with people.
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Lay me on an anvil, O God. Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike.
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Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
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If I added to their pride of America, I am happy.
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