Quotes About Cicada

Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock.

The Witcher nodded to indicate he had heard of him. He also knew the price that had been offered for Cicada's head in Vizima, Caelf and Vattweir. Had he been asked his opinion he would have said it was a low price. But he had not been asked.

Of the many forms that silence takes, the most memorable is the dry husk of the cicada.

July is not only a season of the year; it is a season of the mind and memory. Hot days and sultry nights and crashing thunderstorms are a part of July, and to the drone of bees in the clover fields will soon be added the high-pitched sibilance of the cicada. The tang of ripe cherries and the sweetness of sunning hay...

A cicada whines, his voice Starting to drown through the rainy world, No ripple of wind, no sound but his song of black wings, No song but the song of his black wings. Such emptiness at the heart, such emptiness at the heart of being

Lonely stillness— a single cicada's cry sinking into stone

Silencio la voz de la cigarra parte las rocas

She said something in Kiowa in a happy tone. My name is Ay-ti-Podle, the Cicada, whose song means there is a fruit ripening nearby. She gestured back toward the big bay saddle horse and tossed her hair back. It was as if she wanted to include Pasha in this newfound happiness.