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The fog comes on little cat feet.
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
Comes
Littles
Little
Allure
Fog
Cat
Feet
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
The peace of great books be for you, Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages, Bleach of the light of years held in leather.
Carl Sandburg
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.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a projection across silence of cadences arranged to break that silence with definite intentions of echoes, syllables, wave lengths.
Carl Sandburg
The people know what the land knows.
Carl Sandburg
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.
Carl Sandburg
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
Carl Sandburg
I learned you can't trust the judgment of good friends.
Carl Sandburg
I am the people the mob the crowd the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
Carl Sandburg
What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
Carl Sandburg
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.
Carl Sandburg
Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.
Carl Sandburg
Nothing happens unless first we dream.
Carl Sandburg
We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.
Carl Sandburg
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.
Carl Sandburg
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
Nothing happens... but first a dream.
Carl Sandburg
Love your neighbor as yourself but don't take down your fence.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
Carl Sandburg
Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is the harnessing of the paradox of earth cradling life and then entombing it.
Carl Sandburg