SANDBURG

I am an idealist. I don't know where I'm going but I'm on my way.

It is the business of little minds to shrink.

I've written some poetry I don't understand myself.

One of the greatest necessities in America is to discover creative solitude.

Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for all syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.

Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.

There are people who want to be everywhere at once, and they get nowhere.

Where is everybody? [replying to the question, "What was it the last man on earth said?"]