I Have Wished A Bird Would Fly

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.

We Cannot Tell Some People What It Is Believe, Partly Because They Are Too Stupid To Understand, Partly Because We Are Too Proudly Vague To Explain.

Nothing Flatters Me More Than To Have It Assumed That I Could Write Prose, Unless It Be To Have It Assumed That I Once Pitched A Baseball With Distinction.

I'd Like To Go By Climbing A Birch Tree~ And Climb Black Branches Up A Snow-white Trunk Toward Heaven, Till The Tree Could Bear No More, But Dipped Its Top And Set Me Down Again. That Would Be Good Both Going And Coming Back. One Could Do Worse Than Be A Swinger Of Birches.

Yes, And Even For The Past...that It Will Turn Out To Have Been All Right For What It Was. Something I Can Accept. Mistakes Made By The Self I Had To Be Or Was Not Able To Be.