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POETRY: A sliver of the moon lost in the belly of a golden frog.
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
Frog
Frogs
Belly
Golden
Moon
Poetry
Lost
Sliver
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A tough will counts. So does desire.So does a rich soft wanting.Without rich wanting nothing arrives.
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Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
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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.”
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I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.
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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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Never will a time come when the most marvelous recent invention is as marvelous as a newborn child.
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Time is the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
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Who else speaks for the Family of Man? They are in tune and step with constellations of universal law.
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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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By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
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What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
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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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Time is a great teacher, Who can live without hope?
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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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Newspapers tell beforehand what is going to happen - maybe.
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God, let me remember all good losers.
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There is only one man in the world and his name is All Men. There is only one woman in the world and her name is All Women. There is only one child in the world and the child's name is All Children.
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Our lives are like a candle in the wind.
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I learned you can't trust the judgment of good friends.
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Poetry is the report of a nuance between two moments, when people say, 'Listen!' and 'Did you see it?' 'Did you hear it? What was it?'
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