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By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
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
Looms
Skyscraper
Smoke
Stars
Night
Soul
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies.
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Poetry is an exhibit of one pendulum connecting with other and unseen pendulums inside and outside the one seen.
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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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Strange things blow in through my window on the wings of the night wind and I don't worry about my destiny.
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The fog comes on little cat feet.
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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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Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment.
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Poetry is the capture of a picture, a song, or a flair, in a deliberate prism of words.
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We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.
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Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
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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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The sea is always the same: and yet the sea always changes.
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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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There is no song to your singing.
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I glory in this world of men and women, torn with troubles, yet living on to love and laugh through it all.
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Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going?
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Such a Big miracle in such a tiny baby. Big things often have small beginnings A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.
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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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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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Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and you can look out of the window and see the blue sky - or the answer is wrong and you have to start over and try again and see how it comes out this time.
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