ALBA from “Langue d’Oc” When the nightingale to his mate…

Far away beyond the pine-woods,' he answered, in a low dreamy voice, 'there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep,…

— Oscar Wilde

“There are dewdrops on the nightingale's wings, bright beads of moon distilled by hope. On the marble fountain is the kiss of water, dream…

— Federico García Lorca

“Sunlight of love on your lips; & the Nightingale has fallen into silence.”

— sir kristian goldmund aumann

Everything perfect in its kind has to transcend its own kind, it must become something different and incomparable. In some notes the nightingale is…

— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I love women being the heroes of the piece. There is just something so dramatic and important about this story [The Nightingale ].

— Megan Chance

“Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and…

— William Wordsworth

“Her statistics were more than a study... For her, Quetelet was the hero as scientist, and the presentation copy of his Physique Sociale is…

— Karl Pearson

“I looked into the literature on this," said Nightingale, "and it wasn't very helpful." "There's a literature about this?" "You'd be amazed, Constable, about…

— Ben Aaronovitch

In a twilight garden, when a brown nightingale starts singing, what is left to a blonde chicken is to remain silent.

— Mehmet Murat Ildan

Were I a nightingale, I would act the part of a nightingale; were I a swan, the part of a swan.

— Epictetus

I simply couldn't walk away from [ The Nightingale].

— Megan Chance

“Here was the world wide-awake and yet only for me, all the fresh pure air only for me, all the fragrance breathed only by…

— Elizabeth von Arnim

Fare thee well my nightingale, I lived but to be near you. Thow you are singing somewhere still I can no longer hear you.

— Leonard Cohen

“Something round and dirty and white was resting near my foot. It was a skull. I picked it up. ‘Is that you, Nicholas?’ I…

— Ben Aaronovitch

O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost…

— John Milton