In many a country cottage over the land, a tall old clock in a quiet corner told time in a tick-tock deliberation. Whether the orchard branches hung with pink-spray blossoms or icicles of sleet, whther the outside news was seedtime or harest, rain or drouth, births or deaths, the swing of the pendulum was right […]
Carl Sandburg Quotes
I’ve written some poetry I don’t understand myself.
Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment.
(Chicago) Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders.
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?
In these times you have to be an optimist to open your eyes when you wake in the morning.
Love your neighbor as yourself; but don’t take down the fence.
Drove up a newcomer in a covered wagon: ‘What kind of folks live around here?’ ‘Well, stranger, what kind of folks was there in the country you come from?’ ‘Well, they was mostly a lowdown, lying, thieving gossiping, backbiting kind lot of people.’ ‘Well, I guess, stranger, that’s about the kind of folks you’ll find […]
When a nation goes down, or a society perishes, one condition may always be found; they forgot where they came from. They lost sight of what had brought them along.