If one by one we counted people out

The question that he frames in all but words is what to make of a diminished thing.

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.

They would not find me changed from him they knew - only more sure of all I thought was true.

I believe in teaching, but I don’t believe in going to school.

No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.

The mind-is not the heart. I may yet live, as I know others live, To wish in vain to let go with the mind- Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me That I need learn to let go with the heart.