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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
Oath
Wing
Print
Wings
Rock
Illegible
Rocks
Fins
Poetry
Fossil
Fossils

More quotes by Carl Sandburg

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Freedom is baffling: men having it often know not they have it till it is gone and they no longer have it.
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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 the coin of our live. We must take care how we spend it.
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The peace of great books be for you, Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages, Bleach of the light of years held in leather.
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I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.
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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 fresh morning spider-web telling a story of moonlit hours of weaving and waiting during a night.
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Poetry is an exhibit of one pendulum connecting with other and unseen pendulums inside and outside the one seen.
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Poetry is a mystic, sensuous mathematics of fire, smoke-stacks, waffles, pansies, people, and purple sunsets.
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Tell me if the lovers are losers... tell me if any get more than the lovers.
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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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Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.
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Hog butcher for the world, Tool maker, stacker of wheat, Player with railroads and the nation's freight handler Stormy, husky, brawling, City of big shoulders.
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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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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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I been a wanderin' Early and late, New York City To the Golden Gate An' it looks like I'm never gonna cease my Wanderin'.
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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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Poetry is the harnessing of the paradox of earth cradling life and then entombing it.
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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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Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
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