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And those who say, I'll try anything once, often try nothing twice, three times, arriving late at the gate of dreams worth dying for.
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
Dream
Twice
Anything
Dying
Nothing
Dreams
Trying
Late
Worth
Times
Arriving
Often
Gate
Three
Gates
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
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.
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By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
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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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Tell me if the lovers are losers... tell me if any get more than the lovers.
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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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The greatest certainty in life is death. The greatest uncertainty is the time.
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Poetry is the cipher key to the five mystic wishes packed in a hollow silver bullet fed to a flying fish.
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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.
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Poetry is a projection across silence of cadences arranged to break that silence with definite intentions of echoes, syllables, wave lengths.
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An expert is a damn fool a long way from home.
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Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration.
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Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.
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Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.
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And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.
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I've written some poetry I don't understand myself.
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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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Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
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The woman named Tomorrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time
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Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
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Poetry is the capture of a picture, a song, or a flair, in a deliberate prism of words.
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