Poetry Is A Way Of Taking Life

Oh, Give Us Pleasure In The Flowers To-day; And Give Us Not To Think So Far Away As The Uncertain Harvest; Keep Us Here All Simply In The Springing Of The Year. Oh, Give Us Pleasure In The Orchard White, Like Nothing Else By Day, Like Ghosts By Night; And Make Us Happy In The Happy Bees, The Swarm Dilating Round The Perfect Trees.

If Society Fits You Comfortably Enough, You Call It Freedom.

Lord, I Have Loved Your Sky, Be It Said Against Or For Me, Have Loved It Clear And High, Or Low And Stormy...

A True Sonnet Goes Eight Lines And Then Takes A Turn For Better Or Worse And Goes Six Or Eight Lines More.

I Heard Someone Say He [carl Sandburg] Was The Kind Of Writer Who Had Everything To Gain And Nothing To Lose By Being Translated Into Another Language.