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Poetry is a fossil rock-print of a fin and a wing, with an illegible oath between.

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
Poetry
Fossil
Fossils
Oath
Wing
Print
Wings
Rock
Illegible
Rocks
Fins

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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An ambition is a little creeper that creeps and creeps in your heart night and day, singing a little song, Come and find me, come and find me.
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Poetry is the harnessing of the paradox of earth cradling life and then entombing it.
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Come on, you Do you want to live forever?
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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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Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.
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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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An expert is a damn fool a long way from home.
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God, let me remember all good losers.
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I am the people the mob the crowd the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
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Tell me if the lovers are losers... tell me if any get more than the lovers.
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There is no song to your singing.
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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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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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The simple dignity of a child drinking a bowl of milk embodies the fascination of an ancient rite.
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To never see a fool you lock yourself in your room and smash the looking-glass.
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Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.
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There is a music for lonely hearts nearly always. If the music dies down there is a silence. Almost the same as the movement of music. To know silence perfectly is to know music.
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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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What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
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The marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading Keep Off.
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