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Lips half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers.
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
Eye
Singing
September
Dream
Wall
Farmers
Even
Feet
Walls
Make
Willing
Kitchen
Yawn
Answers
Clock
Clocks
Eyes
Lips
Doorway
Hours
Dancing
Doorways
Half
Window
Dreaming
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
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.
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
The simple dignity of a child drinking a bowl of milk embodies the fascination of an ancient rite.
Carl Sandburg
Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.
Carl Sandburg
Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
Carl Sandburg
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.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, 'Oh!' and another, 'How?'
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a dance music measuring buck-and-wing follies along with the gravest and stateliest dead-marches.
Carl Sandburg
The machine yes the machine never wastes anybody's time never watches the foreman never talks back.
Carl Sandburg
The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.
Carl Sandburg
To those who had ordered them to death, one of them said: “We die because the people are asleep and you will die because the people will awaken.”
Carl Sandburg
I remember in my early 20s when I felt I couldn't live past 30. I was learning how to write. I had a lot of hard work ahead of me.
Carl Sandburg
Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.
Carl Sandburg
There are people who want to be everywhere at once, and they get nowhere
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is the arithmetic of the easiest way and the primrose path, matched up with foam-flanked horses, bloody knuckles, and bones, on the hard ways to the stars.
Carl Sandburg
I am! I have come through! I belong!
Carl Sandburg
I have often wondered what it is an old building can do to you when you happen to know a little about things that went on long ago in that building.
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
The woman named Tomorrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time
Carl Sandburg