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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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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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Couldn
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Nothing happens unless first we dream.
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If [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.
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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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Nothing happens... but first a dream.
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Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.
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Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.
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We live in the time of the colossal upright oblong.
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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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Now is the time. It is never too late to start something.
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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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The greatest certainty in life is death. The greatest uncertainty is the time.
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The sea is always the same: and yet the sea always changes.
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Poetry is a slipknot tightened around a time-beat of one thought, two thoughts, and a last interweaving thought there is not yet a number for.
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There was always the consolation that if I didn't like what I wrote I could throw it away or burn it.
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A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies.
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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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Money is power, freedom, a cushion, the root of all evil, the sum of blessings.
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Poetry is a mystic, sensuous mathematics of fire, smoke-stacks, waffles, pansies, people, and purple sunsets.
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And even now she beats her head against the bars in the same old way and wonders if there is a bigger place the railroads run to from Chicago where maybe there is romance and big things and real dreams that never go smash.
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Poetry is a fossil rock-print of a fin and a wing, with an illegible oath between.
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