Quotes About Wings

Thankfully,two old friends stood next to the throne. Horus wore full battle armor and a khopesh sword at his side.is kohl-lined eyes-one gold, one silver-were as piercing as ever. At his side stood Isis in a shimmering white gown, with wings of light. Welcome, Horus said. Um, hi, I said. He has a way with words, Isis muttered, which made Sadie snort.

Farfallina, bella e bianca, vola vola, mai si stanca, gira qua, e gira la- poi si resta sopra un fiore, e poi si resta sopra un fiore... Butterfly, beautiful and white, fly and fly, never get tired, turn here and turn there- she rests upon a flower... and she rests upon a flower.

Who do you suppose decided that the birds are free? Even if they can fly the skies unless they have a destination and a branch upon which to perch and rest their wings they might even come to resent having those wings. True freedom... true freedom may be having somewhere to return to.

He wore an old T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, and his lean muscles moved under coppery skin. He had a tattoo on the inside of his forearm--a small one that looked like raven wings. When he turned around, I caught the faint edge of another tattoo on his shoulder peeking from under his shirt. He glanced over, like he'd sensed me looking. When I didn't turn away, he grinned and mouthed something I didn't catch, probably didn't want to.

flight, its upper and lower wings spread wide, its toy-car wheels resting lightly on the grass, its long tail tapering behind. The weather was fine with gentle breezes, and the little aircraft trembled in the wind

A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings. Alone must it seek the ether. And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.

Flight of my mind rises beneath the seagull's wings …then ocean is my motherland I feel.

Faith furnishes prayer with wings, without which it cannot soar to Heaven.

The wings of prayer carry high and far.

Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,To make my small elves coats.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.

It was as if, within that still winter night's vastness a strange soft-feathered bird of passage had come to beat its hopeless wings against the windows of her heart.

wolpertinger?" "A mythological invention of German fantasy," I replied. "We don't yet know that," Stoker riposted, clearly annoyed. "We most certainly do. It is a singularly ludicrous creature," I explained to Tiberius, "with the body of a hare, the wings of a hawk, and a tiny set of antlers. Like a miniature deer.

rose in one great flap of those enormous wings and lifted itself above my head, out of reach and beyond the horizon before I realized what was happening. It was like watching a miracle of creation, and I felt no loss at its passing away from me but only joy that I had been, for however fleeting a time, connected with it.

If I were a bird, I will have no feet.

Fear is a bird that refuses to fly, and each time she neglects to use her wings, she consents to the slow death of her destiny.

Embraced in Isaac's wings, I decided that change wasn't such a bad thing. It actually gave flight to a whole new world I couldn't wait to explore.

You already have wings, you just have to trust that you can fly.

kindnesses have wings and roots ... wings that never droop, and roots that never die.

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings;

As a bird easily comes to terms with the necessity of bearing wings when it finds that it is, in fact, the wings that bear up the bird--up, away from the world, into the sky, into freedom--so the woman who accepts the limitations of womanhood finds in those very limitations her gifts, her special calling--wings, in fact, which bear her up into perfect freedom, into the will of God.

The butterfly startled at Mary's gesture and floated up, drifting on the breeze, its wings sparkling blue and bright in the late afternoon sunshine. Silence watched it, enthralled, and then her eyes met Michael's. A corner of his mouth cocked up. "Welcome home, m'love.

Though one were strong as seven, He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven, Nor weep for pains in hell;