The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over the harbor and city
on silent haunches, and then moves on.Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Fog” (1914)
Quotations by:
Sandburg, Carl
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work –
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Grass” (1918)
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 (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“I Am the People, the Mob” (1916)
I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Prairie” (1918)
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar.
Let me pry loose old walls.
Let me lift and loosen old foundations.Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Prayers of Steel” (1920)
Look out how you use proud words.
When you let proud words go, it is not easy to call them back.
They wear long boots, hard boots.Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Primer Lessons” (1922)
And nothing in human philosophy persists more strangely than the old belief that God is always on the side of those who have the most revolvers.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Revolver”
(Source)
Date unknown; unpublished poem discovered in 2013.
The republic is a dream.
Nothing happens unless first a dream.Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Washington Monument by Night” (1922)
Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes. And those having it in one test never know for sure if they will have it when the next test comes.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
(Attributed)
Sometimes attributed to news accounts from 14 December 1954, but not confirmed. Also attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte.
A politician should have three hats: one for throwing in the ring, one for talking through, and one for pulling rabbits out of if elected.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
(Attributed)
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.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
(Attributed)
(Source)
Recalled by journalist Ralph McGill from a 1951 conversation with Sandburg, in a October 1959 syndicated column. In a 1966 column about Sandburg's 88th birthday, he quoted it as:Time is the coin of your life. You spend it. Do not allow others to spend it for you.
For more information on the background and origin of this quotation see Quote Origin: Time Is the Coin of Your Life. It Is the Only Coin You Have – Quote Investigator®.
If you don’t know what to do, sit still and listen. You may hear something.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Incidentals (1900)
Back of every mistaken venture and defeat is the laughter of wisdom, if you listen. We go forward by failure. Every blunder behind us is giving a cheer for us and only those who are willing to fail shall taste the dangers and splendors of life. To be a good loser is to learn how to win. The real coward is he who sees no glory in failure.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Incidentals (1904)
A baby is God’s opinion that life should go on.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Remembrance Rock, ch. 2 (1948)
(Source)
Orville Brand "Bowbong" Windom speaking to his grandson, Raymond. Sometimes misquoted as "A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on."
While popular in its own right, the broader context of the quotation is also worth noting. Windom is recounting a story of a man criticized for sleeping through a play he was supposed to be reviewing, who said, "Sleep is an opinion." Windom continues:And a baby is God's opinion that life should go on. A book that does nothing to you is dead. A baby, whether it does anything to you, represents life. If a bad fire should break out in this house and I had my choice of saving the library or the babies, I would save what is alive. Never will a time come when the most marvelous recent invention is as marvelous as a newborn baby. The finest of our precision watches, the most super-colossal of our supercargo planes, don’t compare with a newborn baby in the number and ingenuity of coils and springs, in the flow and change of chemical solutions, in timing devices and interrelated parts that are irreplaceable. A baby is very modern. Yet it is also the oldest of the ancients. A baby doesn’t know he is a hoary and venerable antique -- but he is. Before man learned how to make an alphabet, how to make a wheel, how to make a fire, he knew how to make a baby -- with the great help of woman, and his God and Maker.
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.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Remembrance Rock, epilogue, ch. 2 (1948)
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 around here.”
And the dusty gray stranger had just about blended into the dusty gray cottonwoods in a clump on the horizon when another newcomer drove up: “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 decent, hard-working, law-abiding, friendly lot of people.” “Well, I guess, stranger, that’s about the kind of folks you’ll find around here.”Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
The People, Yes, Poem #52 (1936)
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.
Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Address to Congress on 150th Anniversary of Lincoln’s birth (12 Feb 1959)Quoted in Congressional Record, vol. 105, p. 2265.