Quote

There is an eagle in me that wants to soar.

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
Wants
Hippopotamus
Hippo
Eagle
Mud
Eagles
Soar

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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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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The people know what the land knows.
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I wrote poems in my corner of the Brooks Street station. I sent them to two editors who rejected them right off. I read those letters of rejection years later and I agreed with those editors.
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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.
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There are people who want to be everywhere at once, and they get nowhere
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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.
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Poetry is an exhibit of one pendulum connecting with other and unseen pendulums inside and outside the one seen.
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For we know when a nation goes down and never comes back, when a society or a civilization perishes, one condition may always be found. They forgot where they came from. They lost sight of what brought them along.
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You know being born is important to you. You know nothing else was ever so important to you.
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The buffaloes are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
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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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Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
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Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration.
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Shame is the feeling you have when you agree with the woman who loves you that you are the man she thinks you are.
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God, let me remember all good losers.
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Poetry is a dance music measuring buck-and-wing follies along with the gravest and stateliest dead-marches.
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A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.
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Poetry is a projection across silence of cadences arranged to break that silence with definite intentions of echoes, syllables, wave lengths.
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To work hard, to live hard, to die hard, and then go to hell after all would be too damned hard.
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Poetry is a tracing of the trajectories of a finite sound to the infinite points of its echoes.
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