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 a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that poetry attempts to describe the complexities of life, but its essence can often evade definitive understanding.
Carl Sandburg's quote highlights the role of poetry as a means to articulate the intricacies of life. However, it also acknowledges that life itself is vast and dynamic, often moving too quickly for any single explanation to fully capture its experiences and truths. This duality illustrates poetry's power and its limitations in conveying the totality of human existence.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of artistic expression, one could use this quote to emphasize poetry's role in exploring life.
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 music had to be rooted, and yet had to branch out,like the wild imagination of a child.
The hardest thing for - not only an artist but for anybody to do is look themselves in the mirror and acknowledge, you know, their own flaws and fears and imperfections and put them out there in the open for people to relate to it.
I'm irresponsible to my career in order to paint. Because painting is obsessive. I forget to eat. I forget to sleep.
If a poet does not tell the truth about time, his or her work will not survive it. Past or present, there is a human dimension to time, human voices within it, and human griefs ordained by it.
I'm the kind of person who would love to play whenever I felt like, with a band, and it might as well be the Holiday Inn in Nebraska - somewhere where no one knows you, and you're in a band situation just playing music.
The history of my life is the history of the struggle between an overwhelming urge to write and a combination of circumstances bent on keeping me from it.
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