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The greatest cunning is to have none at all.
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
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More quotes by Carl Sandburg
Men of ideas vanish when freedom vanishes.
Carl Sandburg
A politician should have three hats. One for throwing into the ring, one for talking through, and one for pulling rabbits out of if elected.
Carl Sandburg
Never will a time come when the most marvelous recent invention is as marvelous as a newborn child.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a mystic, sensuous mathematics of fire, smoke-stacks, waffles, pansies, people, and purple sunsets.
Carl Sandburg
Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.
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 buffaloes are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
Carl Sandburg
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.
Carl Sandburg
Faith is indispensable, and the world at times does not seem to have quite enough of it. It can and has accomplished what seems to be the impossible. Wars have been started and men and nations lost for the lack of it. Faith starts from the individual and builds men and nations. America was built by and on the faith of our ancestors.
Carl Sandburg
Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.
Carl Sandburg
Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
Carl Sandburg
Money is power, freedom, a cushion, the root of all evil, the sum of blessings.
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
Come on, you Do you want to live forever?
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a fossil rock-print of a fin and a wing, with an illegible oath between.
Carl Sandburg
POETRY: A sliver of the moon lost in the belly of a golden frog.
Carl Sandburg
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a tracing of the trajectories of a finite sound to the infinite points of its echoes.
Carl Sandburg
Newspapers tell beforehand what is going to happen - maybe.
Carl Sandburg
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
