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Tag Name "Bird" (1638)

Page 5 of 69
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All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.
Alexander Pope
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How can a bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?
William Blake
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When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius lift up thy head!
William Blake
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No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
William Blake
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Then the Parson might preach, & drink, & sing, And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church, Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
William Blake
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There appears to be a deeply embedded uneasiness in our culture about throwing away junk that can be reused. Perhaps, in part, it is guilt about consumption. Perhaps it also feels unnatural. Mother Nature doesn't throw stuff away. Dead trees, birds, beetles and elephants are pretty quickly recycled by the system.
William Booth
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That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees - Those dying generations-at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unaging intellect.
William Butler Yeats
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And wisdom is a butterfly And not a gloomy bird of prey.
William Butler Yeats
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I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fadeand flee And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
William Butler Yeats
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When April winds Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up, Opened in airs of June her multitude Of golden chalices to humming-birds And silken-wing'd insects of the sky.
William C. Bryant
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The early bird catches the worm.
William Camden
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I tried to put a bird in a cage. O fool that I am! For the bird was Truth. Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put Truth in a cage!
William Carlos Williams
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Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze. Gaining and failing they are buffeted by a dark wind - But what? On harsh weedstalks the flock has rested - the snow is covered with broken seed husks and the wind tempered with a shrill piping of plenty.
William Carlos Williams
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Come, evening, once again, season of peace Return, sweet evening, and continue long! Methinks I see thee in the streaky west, With matron step, slow moving, while the night Treads on thy sweeping train one hand employ'd In letting fall the curtain of repose On bird and beast, the other charged for man With sweet oblivion of the cares of day.
William Cowper
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Blest be the gracious Power, who taught mankind To stamp a lasting image of the mind! Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, Their mutual feelings, in the opening spring But Man alone has skill and power to send The heart's warm dictates to the distant friend 'Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise Ages remote, and nations yet to rise.
George Crabbe
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Please remember the hundreds of tiny empty stomachs in our communities. Winter is a tough time for birds and other small creatures as food can become buried beneath snow or frozen ground. Scatter seeds in your yard, nearby parks.
Alex Pacheco
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Once I asked Teichman what he thought of Bird's chess: Same as his health, he replied, always alternating between being dangerously ill and dangerously well.
William Ewart Napier
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I continue to handpick the beetles, mosquitoes feast on me, birds eat the mosquitoes, something else eats the birds, and so on up and down the biotic pyramid.
William F. Longgood
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A pair of jaybirds came up from nowhere, whirled up on the blast like gaudy scraps of cloth or paper and lodged in the mulberries, where they swung in raucous tilt and recover, screaming into the wind that ripped their harsh cries onward and away like scraps of paper or of cloth in turn.
William Faulkner
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I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some.
Jean Rhys
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You've built your homeyou've fledged your birdsyou've beaten the windwith your bonesyou've finished alonewhat no one began
Alejandra Pizarnik
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Faërie contains many things besides elves and fays, and besides dwarfs, witches, trolls, giants, or dragons it holds the seas, the sun, the moon, the sky and the earth, and all things that are in it: tree and bird, water and stone, wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal men, when we are enchanted.
J. R. R. Tolkien
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If you could touch the alien sand and hear the cries of strange birds, and watch them wheel in another sky, would that satisfy you?
William Hartnell
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[The Yellow Birds] is based on a novel written by Kevin Powers, who is an Iraq War vet. I play a soldier who promises my friend's mother I'm going to keep him alive. But when we go overseas to Iraq, he gets killed. It's about what happened to him, my reckoning and dealing with that as I return home from the war.
Alden Ehrenreich
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