Quote

And even now she beats her head against the bars in the same old way and wonders if there is a bigger place the railroads run to from Chicago where maybe there is romance and big things and real dreams that never go smash.

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
Place
Beats
Dream
Bigger
Real
Dreams
Smash
Even
Head
Railroads
Way
Wonder
Wonders
Things
Maybe
Chicago
Never
Bigs
Bars
Running
Romance

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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Life goes before we know what it is. / One fool is enough in any house. / Even God gets tired of too much hallelujah. / Take it easy and live long as brothers.
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Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.
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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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Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.
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The peace of great books be for you, Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages, Bleach of the light of years held in leather.
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I am! I have come through! I belong!
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A tree is best measured when it is down - and so it is with people.
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Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
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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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It is necessary now and then for a man to go away by himself and experience loneliness to sit on a rock in the forest and to ask of himself, 'Who am I, and where have I been, and where am I going?'...If one is not careful, one allows diversions to take up one's time-the stuff of life
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All my life I have been trying to learn to read, to see and hear, and to write.
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Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.
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I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.
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Freedom is baffling: men having it often know not they have it till it is gone and they no longer have it.
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Poetry is statement of a series of equations, with numbers and symbols changing like the changes of mirrors, pools, skies, the only never-changing sign being the sign of infinity.
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Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.
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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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Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
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Yesterday is done. Tomorrow never comes. Today is here. If you don't know what to do, sit still and listen. You may hear something. Nobody knows.
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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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