Quotes About Birds

We must force the government to stop the bird migration. We must shoot all birds, field all our men and troops... and force migratory birds to stay where they are.

supposed to stay in a box with a bunch of baby birds called goslings. I nudged a few of them aside and lay down and at once they were huddled all around me, trying to cuddle right up to my nose. I was worried that if I yawned they might try to climb into my mouth!

When I was growing up, my mother taught me the language of birds; and when I got married, I used to be listening to their conversation; and I would be laughing; and my wife would be asking what was the reason of my laughing, but I did not like to tell her

O dear white children casual as birds, Playing among the ruined languages, So small beside their large confusing words, So gay against the greater silences Of dreadful things you did…

England,' 'La France,' 'Das Reich;' their words Are like the names of extinct birds Or peasant-women's quaint old charms For bringing lovers to their arms, Which would be only pretty save That they bring thousands to their grave.

Voices Over Water" There are spirits that come back to us when we have grown into another age we recognize them just as they leave us we remember them when we cannot hear them some of them come from the bodies of birds some arrive unnoticed like forgetting they do not recall earlier lives and there are distant voices still hoping to find us

In the cities the birds are forgotten among other things but then one could say that the cities are made of absences of what disappeared so they could be there

There are spirits that come back to us when we have grown into another age we recognize them just as they leave us we remember them when we cannot hear them some of them come from the bodies of birds some arrive unnoticed like forgetting they do not recall earlier lives and there are distant voices still hoping to find us — W.S. Merwin, "Voices Over Water," Garden Time . (Copper Canyon Press September 13, 2016)

How We Are Spared" At midsummer before the dawn an orange light returns to the mountains Like a great weight and the small birds cry out And bear it up

Here's my library, where I don't do a lot of reading but mostly play Angry Birds on the computer.

Men of my age flock together; we are birds of a feather, as the old proverb says;

Whatever the vexations or concerns of their personal lives, their thoughts can find paths that lead to inner contentment and to renewed excitement in living. Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready for the spring.

The words of prayer are like birds, Ester," he said gently. "They soar.

THE INNOCENT BOY, THE EVIL FATHER, THE ANTS, THE FISH, THE BIRDS

This guy, and he alone, hunts close to the house for field mice and birds.

Having returned from their nests in whatever lagoons, brown pelicans glided effortlessly in formation, eternally silent, while shrieking crows darted

In the morning, when it was raining In the morning, when it was raining, Then the birds were hectic and loudy; Through all the reign is fall's entertaining; Their singing was erratic and full of disorder: They did not remember the summer blue Or the orange of June. They did not think at all Of the great red and bursting ball Of the kingly sun's terror and tempest, blazing, Once the slanting rain threw over all The colorless curtains of the ceaseless spontaneous fall.

What can be said about those fields? There were blackbirds circling above their own shadows, and beneath them the cows stood around smelling one another's butts.

But as spring blooms, the birds grow drunk with love and the bushes riot with their songs. Far, far into the night, darkness mutes but does not silence them, and small melodious conversations break out at all hours, invisible and strangely intimate in the dead of night, as though one overheard the lovemaking of strangers in the room next door.

left me studying the birds, with the assurance that he would shortly

But as spring blooms, the birds grow drunk with love and the bushes riot with their songs.

Be courageous, we say, but no one is courageous, as a sound we do not hear lifts the birds off the water.

In our city spring came from the sky, not from the soil, which was ruled by stone that recognizes no seasonal change. The change of the season could be glimpsed in the thinning of clouds, the appearance of the birds and the occasional rainbow.)

But he would continuously change them around, according to his studies and tastes of the moment, for he considered his books as rather like birds and it saddened him to see them caged or still.