Carl Sandburg Quotes

So we all love a wild girl keeping a hold

On a dream she wants.

God, let me remember all good losers.

A book is never a masterpiece: it becomes one.

There is only one child in the world and the Child’s name is All Children.

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

I've written some poetry I don't understand myself

"One of the great Confederate combat leaders, General John B. Gordon, had sat at his horse and spoken farewell to his men. Some he had seen weeping as they folded burnt and shot-pierced battle flags and laid them on the stacked arms of surrender. As he told his troops his own grief he tried to give them hope to rebuild out of the poverty and ashes to which many would return. Gordon would never forget a Kentucky father who lost two sons, one dying for the North, the other for the South. Over the two graves of his soldier boys the father set up a joint monument inscribed "God knows which was right.

I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it

I am stone and steel of your sleeping numbers;
I remember all you forget.
I will die as many times
as you make me over again.

a women is like a tea bag.it's only when she is in hot water that you realize how strong she is.

I see America, not in the setting sun of a black night of despair ahead of us, I see America in the crimson light of a rising sun fresh from the burning, creative hand of God. I see great days ahead, great days possible to men and women of will and vision

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

Read the dictionary from A to Izzard today.
Get a vocabulary. Brush up on your diction.
See whether wisdom is just a lot of language.

Have I, have you, been too silent? Is there an easy crime of silence?

I asked the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness. And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men. They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them. And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines river and I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and children and a keg of beer and an accordion.