Quotes About Birds

Those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art.

Spotted Park Bench I am a park bench. Ordinary words cannot express my thoughts on birds.

Here is the door of my mom's house, well-remembered childhood portal. Here is the yard, and a set of wires that runs from the house to a wooden pole, and some fat birds sitting together on the wires, five of them lined up like beads on an abacus.

Life is getting more complicated, but it seems the more artificially complex man's affairs become, the more he yearns for the fundamentals, the things of earth." The "boom in birds," Peterson concluded, "seems to be an antidote for the pressures and artificialities of the modern world.

And the wind falls silent, and the birds fall silent, and the wild cherry trees no longer shiver and creek.

All birds need to fly are the right-shaped wings, the right pressure and the right angle.

It is not the diamonds or the birds, the people or the potatoes; it is not any of the nouns. The miracle is the adverbs, the way things are done. It is the way love gets done despite every catastrophe.

The varying modes of flight exhibited by our diurnal birds of prey have always been to me a subject of great interest, especially as by means of them I have found myself enabled to distinguish one species from another, to the farthest extent of my power of vision.

The carnal contact side by side, from heel to armpit, brings shudders that shake up nature like the flights of nocturnal birds.

Bicycling is the nearest approximation I know to the flight of birds. The airplane simply carries a man on its back like an obedient Pegasus; it gives him no wings of his own.

Rows of books around me stand, Fence me in on either hand; Through that forest of dead words I would hunt the living birds -- So I write these lines for you Who have felt the death-wish too, All the wires are cut, my friends Live beyond the severed ends.

Above them, a riot of stars formed horses and birds and magical creatures." Chapter 9 · Page 80 · Location 1434

Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.

When the birds their sweethearts win And champagne is in the air, Love is here, and Love is there, Love is welcome everywhere.

Happy indeed is the naturalist: to him the seasons come round like old friends; to him the birds sing: as he walks along, the flowers stretch out from the hedges, or look up from the ground, and as each year fades away, he looks back on a fresh store of happy memories.

There was no way I could explain that it had all happened so fast, that I wasn't smiling away at the cats chewing the birds. It was that my happiness about the sweet peas and the finches hadn't had time to fade. As

The return of migratory birds. The constellations of the sky. The shape of an oak leaf. The stripes of a badger. There is a soothing constancy to nature. And of course the transitory nature of the seasons – the changing trees, the behaviour of birds and animals, the turning of the globe, the cycle of life in one year – can also be a reminder that time passes and things heal.

In the city of flesh I travel without maps, a worried tourist: and Ottilie was a very Venice. I stumbled lost in the blue shade of her pavements. Here was a dreamy stillness, a swaying, the splash of an oar. Then, when I least expected it, suddenly I stepped out into the great square, the sunlight, and she was a flock of birds scattering with soft cries in my arms.

Recordáis cómo era abril cuando éramos jóvenes, esa sensación de líquida impetuosidad y el viento extrayendo cucharadas azules del aire y los pájaros fuera de sí en los árboles que ya habían echado brotes?

A semi-cirque of flying rooks, just seven in number, flapped with creaking wings across the top of the tower, making their way northwest towards Mark Moor. Little did they reck of the cracking of the skull of a man upon a patch of grass! As for a tiny earth beetle that was foraging for its insect prey just there, it scurried away from Tom's blood as if it had been a lake of brimstone.

The language of trees is even more remote from human intelligence than the language of beasts or of birds. What to these lovers, for instance, would the singular syllables wuther-quotle-glug have signified?

The kiss of sun for pardon, The song of the birds for mirth, One is nearer God's Heart in a garden Than anywhere else on earth

The breeze has awakened the earth, the sun gave brightness to the earth. Birds gave melodious music to the earth, then its the time to wish my sweet friend.

Another thing I like to do is sit back and take in nature. To look at the birds, listen to their singing, go hiking, camping and jogging and running, walking along the beach, playing games and sometimes being alone with the great outdoors. It's very special to me.