Carl Sandburg Quotes - Page 9

The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.

Poetry is a sequence of dots and dashes, spelling depths, crypts, cross-lights, and moon wisps.

Poetry is a plan for a slit in the face of a bronze fountain goat and the path of fresh drinking water.

The impact of television on our culture is just indescribable.

Poetry is a shuffling of boxes of illusions buckled with a strap of facts.

What of the Wright boys in Dayton? Just around the corner they had a shop and did a bicycle business-and they wanted to fly for the sake of flying. They were Man the Seeker, Man on a Quest. Money was their last thought, their final absent-minded idea. They threw out a lot of old mistaken measurements and figured new ones that stood up when they took off and held the air and steered a course. They proved that "the faster you go the less power you need."

A man may be born, but in order to be born he must first die, and in order to die he must first awake.

The fog comes on little cat feet.

There have been as many varieties of socialists as there are wild birds that fly in the woods and sometimes go up and on through the clouds.

Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.

Poetry is a dance music measuring buck-and-wing follies along with the gravest and stateliest dead-marches.

There was always the consolation that if I didn't like what I wrote I could throw it away or burn it.

Poetry is a projection across silence of cadences arranged to break that silence with definite intentions of echoes, syllables, wave lengths.

The people know what the land knows.

Where was I going? I puzzled and wondered about it til I actually enjoyed the puzzlement and wondering.

Poetry is the cipher key to the five mystic wishes packed in a hollow silver bullet fed to a flying fish.

Let your heart look on white sea spray and be lonely. Love is a fool star. You and a ring of stars may mention my name and then forget me. Love is a fool star.

Often I look back and see that I had been many kinds of a fool-and that I had been happy in being this or that kind of fool.

Somebody's little girl- how easy it is to make a sob story over who she once was and who she now is.

I take you and pile high the memories. Death will break her claws on some I keep.

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.

All my life I have been trying to learn to read, to see and hear, and to write.

I can remember only a few of the strange and curious words now dead but living and spoken by the English people a thousand years ago.

I am! I have come through! I belong!

The more rhymethere isin poetry the more dangerof its tricking the writer into something other than the urge in the beginning.