Bird Quotes
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The mind travels faster than the pen; consequently, writing becomes a question of learning to make occasional wing shots, bringing down the bird of thought as it flashes by. A writer is a gunner, sometimes waiting in the blind for something to come in, sometimes roaming the countryside hoping to scare something up.
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I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
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I busted my bird for 60 years in the business, but my grandkids only know me as Mr. Potato Head.
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May the bird of paradise fly up your nose, may an elephant caress you with his toes, may your wife be plagued with runners in her hose.
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Boredom is the dream bird that hatches the egg of experience. A rustling in the leaves drives him away.
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Every body that is moved continues to move so long as the impression of the force of its mover is retained in it, therefore the movement of this wing with violence... will come to move the whole bird with it until the impetus of the moved air has been consumed.
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For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive.
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Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.
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If the Bird does not sing, Kill it.
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Romance is a bird that will not sing in every bush, and love-affairs, however devoted the sentiments that inspire them, are often so business-like in the prudence with which they are conducted, that romance is reduced to a mere croaking or a disgusted silence.
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I feel like my dream animal would be a mermaid that could fly and also live in the trees. She has a nest, almost like a bird. She feeds her babies like a bird, like, chews the food first and then feeds it to them through her mouth.
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The bird is powered by its own life and by its motivation.
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The sun is shining and the bird are singing what more could you ask for in a day!
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I'm the gooney bird that walked to the bank. I'm doing better than most of those guys who said I was crazy.
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Eneke the bird was asked why he was always on the wing and he replied: 'Men have learned to shoot without missing their mark and I have learned to fly without perching on a twig.'
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All day I have been tossed and whirled in a preposterous happiness; was it an elf in the blood? Or a bird in the brain? Or even part of the cloudily crested, fifty-league-long, loud, uplifted wave of a journeying angels transit over and through my heart?
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Do not conceive that fine clothes make fine men any more than fine feathers make fine birds.
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The birds laugh loud and long together When Fashion's followers speed away At the first cool breath of autumn weather. Why, this is the time, cry the birds, to stay! When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over Both look their passion through sun-kissed space, As a blue-eyed maid and her blue-eyed lover Might each gaze into the other's face.
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My heart, the bird of the wilderness, has found its sky in your eyes.
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Remember that your bird should have no other model than the bat, because its membranes serve as an armour or rather as a means of building together the pieces of its armour, that is the framework of the wings.
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I have been feeding pigeons, thousands of them for years. But there was one, a beautiful bird, pure white with light grey tips on its wings; that one was different. It was a female. I had only to wish and call her and she would come flying to me. I loved that pigeon as a man loves a women, and she loved me. As long as I had her, there was a purpose to my life.
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Each bird must sing with his own throat.
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A ragged urchin, aimless and alone, Loitered about that vacancy: a bird Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone: That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third, Were axioms to him, who'd never heard Of any world where promises were kept Or one could weep because another wept.
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When I wrote the eight fairy tales that appear in 'Horse, Flower, Bird' I was working toward a completely new form of artistic expression, trying to create a new kind of tale that also felt vintage: innocent and childlike, but haunted. I tried to write a picture-less picture book.
