Quotes by Carl Sandburg

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The time for action is now. It's never too late to do something.

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.
Nothing happens unless first a dream.
One of the greatest necessities in America is to discover creative solitude.
In these times you have to be an optimist to open your eyes when you wake in the morning.
Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.
I am an idealist. I don't know where I'm going but I'm on my way.
I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes, so live not in your yesterdays, no just for tomorrow, but in the here and now. Keep moving and forget the post mortems; and remember, no one can get the jump on the future.
Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the sky.
Not often in the story of mankind does a man arrive on earth who is both steel and velvet, who is as hard as rock and soft as drifting fog, who holds in his heart and mind the paradox of terrible storm and peace unspeakable and perfect.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
Poetry is the achievement of the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
I have written some poetry that I don't understand myself.
The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.
Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.
I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.
The greatest cunning is to have none at all.
There are men who can’t be bought.
The people will live on. / The learning and blundering people will live on. / They will be tricked and sold and again sold. / And go back to the nourishing earth for rootholds.
A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on.
A baby is Gods opinion that life should go on.
Who put up that cage?Who hung it up with bars, doors?Why do those on the inside want to get out?Why do those outside want to get in?What is this crying inside and out all the time?What is this endless, useless beating of baffled wings at these bars, doors, this cage?
Sometime theyll give a war and nobody will come.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me workI am the grass; I cover all. And pile them high at GettysburgAnd pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. Shovel them under and let me work. Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:What place is this?Where are we now?I am the grass. Let me work.
The republic is a dreamNothing happens unless first a dream.
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
If she [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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