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What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?

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
Life
Nearly
Hungry
Singing
Else
Done

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Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves. They flickered out saying: It was worth being a bubble, just to have held that rainbow thirty seconds.
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Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.
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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 fresh morning spider-web telling a story of moonlit hours of weaving and waiting during a night.
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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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Lay me on an anvil, O God. Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike.
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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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Love your neighbor as yourself but don't take down your fence.
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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.
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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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Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, 'Oh!' and another, 'How?'
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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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I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.
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What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
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There is only one man in the world and his name is All Men. There is only one woman in the world and her name is All Women. There is only one child in the world and the child's name is All Children.
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Nothing happens unless first we dream.
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A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies.
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Tongues wrangled dark at a man. He buttoned his overcoat and stood alone. In a snowstorm, red hollyberries, thoughts, he stood alone.
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There is an eagle in me that wants to soar.
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Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.
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