When I see birches bend to left and right... I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

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.

Possessing what we still were unpossessed by, Possessed by what we now no more possessed.

If society fits you comfortably enough, you call it freedom.

Love has earth to which she clings.

There are few sorrows, however poignant, in which a good income is of no avail.

All the fun is in how you say a thing.