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.
Nothing gold can stay.
Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and building a wall.
I am one who has been acquainted with the night
He burned his house down for the fire insurance and spent the proceeds on a telescope.
Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.