Quotes About Birds

Dawn-giddy birds chirp as if every morning is a special occasion. Wise, wise birds.

poetry leafs out like trees words rustle in the breeze punctuate — birds & bees

The environment was full of birds and insects, rodents and small reptiles - decorative in appearance, but also satisfying a more abstract aesthetic: softening the harsh radial symmetry of the lone observer; anchoring the simulation by perceiving it from a multitude of view-points. Ontological guy lines.

The birds suffer their suffering each in a lifetime, forgetting it as they go.

Darkness gives way to morning's sunrise, Winter ends, there are flowers, birds fly. Honour the goddess, remember the gods. We are children of earth and sky.

Even the birds above the lake Are singing of my love, And even the flowers along the shore Are growing for her sake.

It is a real chill out, The genuine thing. I am not deceived, I do not think it is still summer Because sun stays and birds continue to sing.

Another survey revealed that while nine out of ten primary school children could identify a Dalek, only a third could recognise and name a magpie.

What birds were they? (...) He listened to the cries: like the squeak of mice be- hind the wainscot : a shrill twofold note. But the notes were long and shrill and whirring, unlike the cry of vermin, falling a third or a fourth and trilled as the flying beaks clove the air. Their cry was shrill and clear and fine and falling like threads of silken light unwound from whirring spools.

One, for instance, boasted a lovingly detailed watercolour of a dead robin, while on another a row of comical frogs paraded beneath umbrellas and, on another still, insects danced in a circle, wielding musical instruments and seemingly drunk.

What was good, and what was ill, What would save life, and what would kill. Thus gone, amongst you I may live, And dead, yet speak and counsel give. Farewell, my birds, farewell, adieu, I happy

My background is in biology. Before getting into the family business, I worked at the Predatory Bird Research Group at the University of California at Santa Cruz, fundraising for them.

Nature, or at least birds and women, abhorred the invisible man.

It is the strongest, not the prettiest birds that conquer the sky.

overhead the birds are calling, their cries seeming to feel the air. As i watch, they rise.. flinging their bodies against the sky, intent upon the moment, spinning and turning like embers of smoke upon the air. I envy them, this life of theirs.. the way they live so free of themselves, they are without past, without future, an exaltation of life beating in so many parts, rising up into the infinity of space. watching them i find i want to weep, and yet i have no tears.

My days have been so wondrous free,The little birds that flyWith careless ease from tree to tree,Were but as bless'd as I.

making. Little birds were always so excited. He had

Striking evidence of the ability of birds to hear the fine details of song involves the so-called 'sexy syllables' in canary song.

THERE ARE CURRENTLY VERY CLOSE TO TEN thousand species of birds in the world, both beautiful and improbable, and they have contributed more to the study of zoology than almost any other group of animals (Konishi et al. 1989). The reasons are obvious: birds are diurnal, they are often easily observed and studied, and we like them.

I am normally afraid of birds and have never dreamt of any bird in my life.

What is the kingdom of God like? . . . It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden. It grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air perched in its branches." LUKE 13:18–19

Armed with the arms of summer you come into my room come into my mind and untie the river of language look at yourself in these hurried words Bit by bit the day burns out over the erasing landscape your shadow is a land of birds the sun scatters with a wave from "THE ARMS OF SUMMER

Trees heavy with birds hold the afternoon up with their hands. — Octavio Paz, from "THE TOMB Of AMIR KHUSRU," A Tale of Two Gardens (New Directions, 1997)

That is the Earth, he thought. Not a globe thousands of kilometers around, but a forest with a shining lake, a house hidden at the crest of the hill, high in the trees, a grassy slope leading upward from the water, fish leaping and birds strafing to take the bugs that lived at the border between water and sky. Earth was the constant noise of crickets and winds and birds. And the voice of one girl, who spoke to him out of his far-off childhood.