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Bird Quotes (page 9)

John McCrae quote: "Like restless birds, the breath of coming rain. Creeps,..."
Like restless birds, the breath of coming rain. Creeps, lilac-laden, up the village street John McCrae
Frost in January minus 20 for a week. Dead birds frozen on the branch—they fall with the first thaw like ripe fruit—death-ripened. We shall all end like them—just a stain in the snow. Lawrence Durrell
And it's a wonderful thing to be a boy, to go roaming where grown-ups can't catch you, and to chase rats and kill birds and shy stones and cheek carters and shout dirty words. It's a kind of a strong, rank feeling, a feeling of knowing everything and fearing nothing, and it's all bound up with breaking rules and killing things. George Orwell
Barbara Kingsolver quote: "A bird in the hand loses its mystery in no time flat."
A bird in the hand loses its mystery in no time flat. Barbara Kingsolver
Let us be like a bird for a moment perched On a frail branch when he sings; Though he feels it bend, yet he sings his song, Knowing that he has wings. Victor Hugo
Just as there are predatory birds, so there are predatory ideas: I came under their spell. . . .Just as the survivors say that no one will ever understand the victims, what I must tell you is that you will never understand the executioners. Elie Wiesel
Corrie Ten Boom quote: "What wings are to a bird, and sails to a ship, so is prayer to..."
What wings are to a bird, and sails to a ship, so is prayer to the soul. Corrie Ten Boom
You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; a certain free-margin , or even vagueness - ignorance, credulity - helps your enjoyment of these things. Walt Whitman
Every true writer is like a bird; he repeats the same song, the same theme, all his life. For me, this theme as always been revolt. Alberto Moravia
Now for St. Francis nothing was ever in the background. We might say that his mind had no background, except perhaps that divine darkness out of which the divine love had called up every colored creature one by one. He saw everything as dramatic, distinct from its setting, not all of a piece like a picture but in action like a play. A bird went by him like an arrow; something with a story and a purpose, though it was a purpose of life and not a purpose of death. A bush could stop him like a... Gilbert K. Chesterton
Fang looked at the newest bird kid. Dylan was an inch or two taller than he was, and somewhat heavier built, though he still had the long, lean look of a human-avian hybrid-you couldn't make bricks fly. James Patterson
Stephen King quote: "The low bird is not picked tenderly out of the dust by its..."
The low bird is not picked tenderly out of the dust by its fellows; rather, it is dispatched quickly and without mercy. Stephen King
the world-view of the Party imposed itselfmost successfully on people incapable of understanding it. They could be made to accept the most flagrant violationsof reality, because they never fully grasped the enormityof what was demanded of them, and were not sufficientlyinterested in public events to notice what was happening. By lack of understanding they remained sane. They simplyswallowed everything, and what they swallowed did themno harm, because it left no residue behind, just as a grain... George Orwell
December stillness, teach me through your trees. That loom along the west, one with the land, The veiled evangel of your mysteries. While nightfall, sad and spacious, on the down. Deepens, and dusk embues me where I stand, With grave diminishings of green and brown, Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive words; And let me learn your secret from the sky, Following a flock of steadfast-journeying birds. In lone remote migration beating by. December stillness, crossed by twilight roads, Teach... Siegfried Sassoon
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigiland its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves. Rabindranath Tagore

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