Carl Sandburg Quotes - Page 8

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• People lie because they don't remember clear what they saw. People lie because they can't help making a story better than it was the way it happened.

  Carl Sandburg

  Lying, People, Way

  Carl Sandburg (2015). “The People, Yes”, p.75, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• The buffaloes are gone.
  And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.

  Carl Sandburg

  Gone, Extinction, Saws

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.256, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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

  Carl Sandburg

  Echoes, Silence, Cadence

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.317, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Poetry is an exhibit of one pendulum connecting with other and unseen pendulums inside and outside the one seen.

  Carl Sandburg

  Unseen, Pendulums, Poetry Is

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.318, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• I had been keeping an off eye on the advertising field, thinking I might become an idea man and a copywriter.

  Carl Sandburg

  Eye, Men, Thinking

  Carl Sandburg, Margaret Sandburg, George Hendrick (1999). “Ever the Winds of Chance”, p.119, University of Illinois Press

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• I could safely declare, I am an idealist... I believe in everything - I am only looking for proofs.

  Carl Sandburg

  Believe, Proof, Idealist

  "Incidentals". Book by Carl Sandburg, 1904.

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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?

  Carl Sandburg

  People, Done, World

  "I Am the People, the Mob" l. 1 (1916)

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• Now I am here - now read me - give me a name.

  Carl Sandburg

  Names, Giving, Give Me

  Carl Sandburg (2015). “Harvest Poems: 1910-1960”, p.125, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• My room for books and study or for sitting and thinking about nothing in particular to see what would happen was at the end of a hall.

  Carl Sandburg

  Book, Thinking, Sitting

  Carl Sandburg, Margaret Sandburg, George Hendrick (1999). “Ever the Winds of Chance”, p.9, University of Illinois Press

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• I remember the Chillicothe ballplayers grappling the Long Island ball players in a sixteen-inning game ended by darkness. And the shoulders of the Chillicothe players were a red smoke against the sundown and the shoulders of the Rock Island players were a yellow smoke against the sundown. And the umpire's voice was hoarse calling balls and strikes and outs and the umpire's throat fought in the dust for a song.

  Carl Sandburg

  Baseball, Song, Player

  Carl Sandburg, “Hits And Runs”

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• I have become infected, now that I see how beautifully a book is coming out of all this.

  Carl Sandburg

  Book, Literature, Coming Out

  Carl Sandburg, Margaret Sandburg, George Hendrick (1999). “Ever the Winds of Chance”, p.11, University of Illinois Press

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• The shovel is the brother to the gun.

  Carl Sandburg

  Brother, Military, Gun

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• You know being born is important to you. You know nothing else was ever so important to you.

  Carl Sandburg

  Important, Born, Knows

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• Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.

  Carl Sandburg

  Running, Fingers

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• Strange things blow in through my window on the wings of the night wind and I don't worry about my destiny.

  Carl Sandburg

  Blow, Night, Destiny

  Carl Sandburg, Margaret Sandburg, George Hendrick (1999). “Ever the Winds of Chance”, p.156, University of Illinois Press

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• The drum in a dream pounds loud to the dreamer.

  Carl Sandburg

  Dream, Science, Pounds

  Carl Sandburg (2015). “Harvest Poems: 1910-1960”, p.30, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Why does a hearse horse snicker, hauling a lawyer away?

  Carl Sandburg

  Horse, Doe, Snickers

  "The Lawyers Know Too Much" l. 16 (1920)

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• God, let me remember all good losers.

  Carl Sandburg

  Loser, Remember, Let Me

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.190, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice? Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.

  Carl Sandburg

  Nice, Twilight, Eye

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• His books were part of him. Each year of his life, it seemed, his books became more and more a part of him. This room, thirty by twenty feet, and the walls of shelves filled with books, had for him the murmuring of many voices. In the books of Herodotus, Tacitus, Rabelais, Thomas Browne, John Milton, and scores of others, he had found men of face and voice more real to him than many a man he had met for a smoke and a talk.

  Carl Sandburg

  Wall, Real, Book

  Carl Sandburg (1948). “Remembrance Rock”

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• It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down. And your eyes and the moon swept the valley.

  Carl Sandburg

  Coffee, Eye, Moon

  Carl Sandburg (2000). “Cornhuskers”, p.47, Courier Corporation

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• Lay me on an anvil, O God.
  Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike.

  Carl Sandburg

  Prayer, Hammers, Steel

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.109, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• My first stringed instrument was a cigar box banjo where I cut and turned the pegs and strung the wires myself.

  Carl Sandburg

  Cutting, Wire, Firsts

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• Poetry is a theorem of a yellow-silk handkerchief knotted with riddles, sealed in a balloon tied to the tail of a kite flying in a white wind against a blue sky in spring.

  Carl Sandburg

  Spring, Blue, Wind

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.318, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Poetry is a mock of a cry at finding a million dollars and a mock of a laugh at losing it.

  Carl Sandburg

  Laughing, Dollars, Losing

  Carl Sandburg (2003). “The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg”, p.318, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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