Quote

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.

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
Giving
Turns
Cunning
Show
Singing
Strong
City
Shows
Proud
Another
Cities
Give
Turn
Sneer
Back
Head
Coarse
Come
Alive
Lifted

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Be careful with your words, once they are said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten.
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We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.
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What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?
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I have in later years taken to Euclid, Whitehead, Bertrand Russell, in an elemental way.
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Come on, you Do you want to live forever?
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The people know what the land knows.
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I have always felt that a woman has the right to treat the subject of her age with ambiguity until, perhaps, she passes into the realm of over ninety. Then it is better she be candid with herself and with the world.
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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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The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.
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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.
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I glory in this world of men and women, torn with troubles, yet living on to love and laugh through it all.
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Calling it off comes easy enough if you haven't told the girl you are smitten with her.
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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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Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.
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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.
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Now is the time. It is never too late to start something.
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There are people who want to be everywhere at once, and they get nowhere
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Yesterday and tomorrow cross and mix on the skyline. The two are lost in a purple haze. One forgets, one waits.
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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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