Best 1556 quotes in «bird quotes» category

Recently my fingers have developed a prejudice against comparatives. They all follow this pattern: a squirrel is smaller than a tree; a bird is more musical than a tree. Each of us is the strongest one in his or her own skin. Characteristics should take off their hats to one another, instead of spitting in each other's faces.

Religions in general have to rediscover their roots. In Hinduism and the Koran, animals are described as equals. If you walk into a cathedral and look at the decorations of early Christianity, there are vines, animals, creatures and birds thriving all over the stonework.

[Richard Crossley's] previous bird guide, for ID'ing Eastern birds, is the most imaginative, original attempt to re-envision the birding guide and set his approach apart from that of Sibley, Kaufman, Peterson, Nat'l Geo, and the other bibles in the field.

Rise early. It is the early bird that catches the worm. Don't be fooled by this absurd law; I once knew a man who tried it. He got up at sunrise and a horse bit him.

Running made me feel like a bird let out of a cage, I loved it that much.

Self-help books are for the birds. Self-help groups are where it's at.

Say, has some wet bird-haunted English lawn Lent it the music of its trees at dawn?

Seagulls . . . slim yachts of the element.

See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner," "A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?" "Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.

Set the bird's wings with gold and it will never again soar in thesky.

scarcely a human being in the course of history has fallen to a woman's rifle; the vast majority of birds and beasts have been killed by you, not by us. Obviously there is for you some glory, some necessity, some satisfaction in fighting which we have never felt or enjoyed.

Seeing this gradation and diversity of structure in one small, intimately related group of birds, one might really fancy that from an original paucity of birds in this archipelago, one species had been taken and modified for different ends.

Sesame Street... I think they were all high. With Big Bird, they had to be high.

Shall I not rejoice also at the abundance of the weeds whose seeds are the granary of the birds?

She laughed enough to migrate an entire flock of birds. That was how she said yes

She released her grievances like handfuls of birdseed: They are there, and they are gone.

She flew like a bird, only faster.

She leaped into space, high, higher than she'd ever been in her life. She came down with a clean snap, and the crowd scattered like birds from the swing of her feet.

She tapped on the window with her embossed hairbrush. They were too far off to hear. The drone of the trees was in their ears; the chirp of birds; other incidents of garden life, inaudible, invisible to her in the bedroom, absorbed them. Isolated on a green island, hedged about with snowdrops, laid with a counterpane of puckered silk, the innocent island floated under her window. Only George lagged behind.

She seemed to belong to that pagan, primitive kingdom of birds and forests where everything was infinitely abundant, wild, blooming, and royal in its perpetual decay, death, and rebirth; illicit and clashing with the human world.

Silence is golden for me. I live in the country and hear only my pets, birds, crickets, and the wind in the trees.

Shokaku is a crane of some kind.' 'For lifting things?' Will asked. 'For flying. A large bird type of crane,' she corrected him. 'In fact, as near I can Work it out, Shokaku means “a flying crane". 'Seems like a logical thing for a crane to do,' Halt mused. 'I suppose you wouldn't expect it to mean “a hiking crane" or “a waddling crane".'

Showers and sunshine bring, Slowly, the deepening verdure o'er the earth; To put their foliage out, the woods are slack, And one by one the singing-birds come back.

She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.

Should we say something?’ Cal asks. ‘Goodbye, bird?’ I suggest. He nods. ‘Goodbye, bird. Thank you for coming. And good luck.

Simon remembered a rhyme his mother used to recite to him, about magpies. You were supposed to count them and say: one for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret that's never been told. "Right," simon said. He had already lost count of the numbers of birds there were. Seven, he guessed. A secret that's never been told. Whatever that was.

Since I had my gastric bypass surgery in 1998, I eat like a bird. Unfortunately, that bird is a California condor.

Since the early bird catches the worm, it's a good idea to begin your day as soon as you can -- unless, of course, you happen to be a worm.

Some minds corrode and grow inactive under the loss of personal liberty; others grow morbid and irritable; but it is the nature of the poet to become tender and imaginitive in the loneliness of confinement. He banquets upon the honey of his own thoughts, and, like the captive bird, pours forth his soul in melody.

Small birds throw seeds out of the feeder; large birds pick them up off the ground, but the squirrels try to muscle in.

Some newspapers are fit only to line the bottom of bird cages.

Some of the most beautiful bird calls are cries of distress and fear....these sculptures are a way for me to express my cry.

Some people are mistaken, they think birds need feed to survive, but they don't. The main reason to feed birds is to enjoy them.

Sometimes the early bird gets the worm, but sometimes the early bird gets frozen to death.

Some say that ever 'gainst the season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor wi

Sometimes I see a bird fly by and I feel jealous. But then other times I see a bird fly into a closed window and I feel laughing.

Some tribes of birds will relieve and rear up the young and helpless, of their own and other tribes, when abandoned.

somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

So say it loud and let it ring We are all a part of everything The future, present and the past Fly on proud bird You're free at last

Sound... if you look at bats you know that navigate with sonar, they're like you know they're very precise. They can even see a bat head towards a building and swerve away, but you'll see a bird that doesn't... you know smash right into a glass window. It's very funny.

Speaking about symmetry, look out our window, and you may see a cardinal attacking its reflection in the window. The cardinal is the only bird we have who often does this. If it has a nest nearby, the cardinal thinks there is another cardinal trying to invade its territory. It never realizes it is attacking its own reflection. Cardinals don't know much about mirror symmetry!

So we live in an accelerating possibility curve.  Perhaps we can't control it, but we can learn to ride it like a surfer on a wave or a bird on a thermal, to use its power to take us where we want to go - to live in uncertainty and yet act with confidence.

So you have you price," I said with a mouthful of crumbs. "Your soul for a cookie." Fang made sure Dr. Martinez wasn't looking and then shot me the bird.

Speed is what distinguishes intelligence. No bird discovers how to fly: evolution used a trillion bird-years to 'discover' that – where merely hundreds of person-years sufficed.

Spirituality is like a bird: If you hold it too closely, it chokes, And if you hold it too loosely, it escapes.

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.

Spring: trees flying up to their birds

Staring at her face, she began to fancy her outer layer had begun to melt away while she wasn't paying attention, and something -- some new skeleton -- was emerging from beneath the softness of her accustomed self. With a deep, visceral ache, she wished her true form might prove to be a sleek and shining one, like a stiletto blade slicing free of an ungainly sheath. Like a bird of prey losing its hatchling fluff to hunt in cold, magnificent skies. That she might become something glittering, something startling, something dangerous.

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

Stand in despair anywhere old-growth forest has been clear-felled. All life has been replaced by blackened, poisoned desolation. Animals and birds have either fled or been killed, and baits are laid waiting for those that should return. And in these tortured places, the devastation is brutal and total. And this is what greed looks like.