“Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions.” — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
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… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Gather the stars if you wish it so Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Back of every mistaken venture and defeat is the laughter of wisdom, if you listen. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Somebody's little girl- how easy it is to make a sob story over who she once was and who she now is. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Let your heart look on white sea spray and be lonely. Love is a fool star. You and a ring of stars may mention… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves. They flickered out saying: "It was worth being a bubble, just to have held that… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
There are ten men in me and I do not know or understand one of them. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
“Time is the most valuable coin in your life. You and you alone will determine how that coin will be spent. Be careful that… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
a women is like a tea bag.it's only when she is in hot water that you realize how strong she is. — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
I won't take my religion from any man who never works except with his mouth and never cherishes any memory except the face of… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
