Carl Sandburg on Isadora Duncan

“She was a flame sheath of flesh made for dancing. She believed she ran into storm, rain, sun and became part of them and they were afterward woven in her dances.”

“The wind? I am the wind. The sea and the moon? I am the sea and the moon. Tears, pain, love, bird-flights? I am all of them. I dance what I am. Sin, prayer, flight, the light that never was on land or sea? I dance what I am. Roses, lovers, money, children, came to her in her life dance from California to Russia. When her dancing days were not yet over but almost come to an end, she died in a swift ride with a flame red scarf enwrapping her neck tighter and tighter.”