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You know being born is important to you. You know nothing else was ever so important to you.

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
Else
Ever
Nothing
Important
Born

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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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.
Carl Sandburg
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Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.
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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.
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The peace of great books be for you, Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages, Bleach of the light of years held in leather.
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It is necessary now and then for a man to go away by himself and experience loneliness to sit on a rock in the forest and to ask of himself, 'Who am I, and where have I been, and where am I going?'...If one is not careful, one allows diversions to take up one's time-the stuff of life
Carl Sandburg
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The sea is always the same: and yet the sea always changes.
Carl Sandburg
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Love your neighbor as yourself but don't take down your fence.
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Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.
Carl Sandburg
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And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.
Carl Sandburg
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I am still studying verbs and the mystery of how they connect nouns. I am more suspicious of adjectives than at any other time in all my born days.
Carl Sandburg
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The greatest certainty in life is death. The greatest uncertainty is the time.
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Often I look back and see that I had been many kinds of a fool-and that I had been happy in being this or that kind of fool.
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Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers.
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The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.
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To never see a fool you lock yourself in your room and smash the looking-glass.
Carl Sandburg
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Corn wind in the fall, come off the black lands, come off the whisper of the silk hangers, the lap of the flat spear leaves.
Carl Sandburg
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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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What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?
Carl Sandburg
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The machine yes the machine never wastes anybody's time never watches the foreman never talks back.
Carl Sandburg
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Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.
Carl Sandburg