Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure From your doors of gold and fame, Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger! But leave me a little love.
Carl SandburgRead
Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the struggle of creativity and the longing for freedom that artists experience.
Carl Sandburg's quote illustrates the inherent desire of a poet, or an artist more broadly, to express themselves and transcend their earthly limitations. The imagery of a sea animal on land wishing to fly suggests a yearning for liberation and the ability to explore new realms of existence, highlighting the tension between the constraints of reality and the boundless potential of imagination.
In practice
In a discussion on the nature of creativity, this quote could illustrate the struggles artists face.
Give me hunger, pain and want, Shut me out with shame and failure From your doors of gold and fame, Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger! But leave me a little love.
Nothing happens... but first a dream.
Read the dictionary from A to Izzard today. Get a vocabulary. Brush up on your diction. See whether wisdom is just a lot of language.
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar, and there is a hippopotamus in me that wants to wallow in the mud.
A liar goes in fine clothes, a liar goes in rags, a liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.
The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
Painting is a nail to which I fasten my ideas.
So I have no grounds to complain; on the contrary, writers should consider the condition of permanent controversiality to be invigorating, part of the risk envolved in choosing the profesión. It is a fact of life that writers have always and with due consideration and great pleasure spit in the soup of the high and mighty. That is what makes the history of literature analogous to the development and refinement of censorship.
Every good writer I know needs to go into some deep, quiet place to do work that is fully imagined. And what the Internet brings is lots of vulgar data. It is the antithesis of the imagination. It leaves nothing to the imagination.
In the 1960s when the recording studio suddenly really took off as a tool, it was the kids from art school who knew how to use it, not the kids from music school. Music students were all stuck in the notion of music as performance, ephemeral. Whereas for art students, music as painting? They knew how to do that.
Some writers confuse authenticity, which they ought always to aim at, with originality, which they should never bother about.
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