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A liar goes in fine clothes, a liar goes in rags, a liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.

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
Liars
Clothes
Fine
Goes
Lying
Rags
Dishonesty
Liar

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Love your neighbor as yourself but don't take down your fence.
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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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Why does a hearse horse snicker, hauling a lawyer away?
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Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.
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Poetry is a plan for a slit in the face of a bronze fountain goat and the path of fresh drinking water.
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If I added to their pride of America, I am happy.
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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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The people will live on.The learning and blundering people will live on.
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Our lives are like a candle in the wind.
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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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POETRY: A sliver of the moon lost in the belly of a golden frog.
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Poetry is a type-font design for an alphabet of fun, hate, love, death.
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Poetry is a fossil rock-print of a fin and a wing, with an illegible oath between.
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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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There are some people who can receive a truth by no other way than to have their understanding shocked and insulted.
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Hog butcher for the world, Tool maker, stacker of wheat, Player with railroads and the nation's freight handler Stormy, husky, brawling, City of big shoulders.
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Men of ideas vanish when freedom vanishes.
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Lay me on an anvil, O God. Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike.
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There are dreams stronger than death. Men and women die holding these dreams.
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Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
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