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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
Bars
Never
Bigs
Romance
Running
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Dream
Bigger
Smash
Real
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Railroads
Even
Head
Wonders
Way
Wonder
Chicago
Things
Maybe
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.
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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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Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.
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Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
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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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I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.
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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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Our lives are like a candle in the wind.
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There is a music for lonely hearts nearly always. If the music dies down there is a silence. Almost the same as the movement of music. To know silence perfectly is to know music.
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Poetry is the cipher key to the five mystic wishes packed in a hollow silver bullet fed to a flying fish.
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An expert is a damn fool a long way from home.
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I am! I have come through! I belong!
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Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
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By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
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Be careful with your words, once they are said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten.
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The impact of television on our culture is just indescribable.
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Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
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And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.
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Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your head.
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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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