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Poetry is the arithmetic of the easiest way and the primrose path, matched up with foam-flanked horses, bloody knuckles, and bones, on the hard ways to the stars.
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
Way
Bloody
Bones
Primrose
Horse
Knuckles
Poetry
Foam
Ways
Matched
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Stars
Easiest
Hard
Horses
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
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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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Now is the time. It is never too late to start something.
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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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A liar goes in fine clothes, a liar goes in rags, a liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.
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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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All my life I have been trying to learn to read, to see and hear, and to write.
Carl Sandburg
Calling it off comes easy enough if you haven't told the girl you are smitten with her.
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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 journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
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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 dead hold in their hands only what they have given away.
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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: A sliver of the moon lost in the belly of a golden frog.
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An expert is a damn fool a long way from home.
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The fog comes on little cat feet.
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Poetry is statement of a series of equations, with numbers and symbols changing like the changes of mirrors, pools, skies, the only never-changing sign being the sign of infinity.
Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a mock of a cry at finding a million dollars and a mock of a laugh at losing it.
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Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves. They flickered out saying: It was worth being a bubble, just to have held that rainbow thirty seconds.
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What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?
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