Morning has broken Like the first morning. Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird. — Eleanor Farjeon Copy Share Image
We are nature. We are nature seeing nature. The red-winged blackbird flies in us. — Susan Griffin Copy Share Image
I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
“Vampires are slicker than goose shit on a glass window. Suave. Sultry. I'm neither of those things” — Chuck Wendig Copy Share Image
When strawberries go begging, and the sleek Blue plums lie open to the blackbird's beak, We shall live well--we shall live very… — Elinor Wylie Copy Share Image
A springful of larks in a rolling Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling Blackbirds and the sun of October Summery… — Dylan Thomas Copy Share Image
At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
I value my garden more for being full of blackbirds than of cherries, and very frankly give them fruit for their songs. — Joseph Addison Copy Share Image
The song of thrush and blackbird, joy that falls so gently on the ears to celebrate another day of life and living,… — John McLeod Copy Share Image
I love that sound,' he mumbled into her hair. 'Blackbirds at dawn.' 'I hate it. Makes me think I've done something I'll… — David Nicholls Copy Share Image
I started reading contemporary fiction in college or right after college. It wasn't as if I was steeped in experimental minimalism when… — Leni Zumas Copy Share Image
Because of her, he had learned to look for the birds - the darting flight of wild canaries (yellow sun on yellow… — Terry Kay Copy Share Image
The nightingale has a lyre of gold, The lark's is a clarion call, And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute, But… — William Ernest Henley Copy Share Image
I don't mind him not talking so much, because you can hear his voice in your heart; the same way you can… — Adam Rapp Copy Share Image
“Soon the ice will melt, and the blackbirds sing along the river which he frequented, as pleasantly as ever. The same everlasting… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
I've always found it difficult to start with a definite idea, but if I start with a pond that's being drained because… — Bobbie Ann Mason Copy Share Image
maybe we try too hard to be remembered, waking to the glowing yellow disc in ignorance, swearing that today will be the… — Naomi Shihab Nye Copy Share Image
Augustus: “You probably need some rest.” Me: “I’m okay.” Augustus: “Okay.” (Pause.) “What are you thinking about?” Me: “You.” Augustus: “What about… — John Green Copy Share Image
In spring more mortal singers than belong To any one place cover us with song. Thrush, bluebird, blackbird, sparrow, and robin throng. — Robert Frost Copy Share Image
O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I am a closet birdwatcher. I can identify Southern African species, but it irks me I can barely tell a jay from… — Wilbur Smith Copy Share Image
It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
And let them pass, as they will too soon, With the bean-flowers' boon, And the blackbird's tune, And May, and June! — Robert Browning Copy Share Image
We waste days like mad blackbirds and pray for alcoholic nightsour silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Again the blackbirds sings; the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
Why do I write historical fiction? Johnny Tremain, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Island of the Blue Dolphins-that's why. I'll never forget… — Jennifer Armstrong Copy Share Image
The world has different owners at sunrise... Even your own garden does not belong to you. Rabbits and blackbirds have the lawns;… — Anne Morrow Lindbergh Copy Share Image
O'er hill and field October's glories fade; O'er hill and field the blackbirds southward fly; The brown leaves rustle down the forest… — George Arnold Copy Share Image
the breed is more than the pasture. As you know, the cuckoo lays her eggs in any bird's nest; it may be… — Amelia Barr Copy Share Image
In New England they once thought blackbirds useless, and mischievous to the corn. They made efforts to destroy them. The consequence was,… — Benjamin Franklin Copy Share Image
The birds can fly, an' why can't I? Must we give in," says he, with a grin, "'T the blackbird an' phoebe… — John Townsend Trowbridge Copy Share Image
Only nature has a right to grieve perpetually, for she only is innocent. Soon the ice will melt, and the blackbirds sing… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
Asleep by the Smiths Vapour Trail by Ride Scarborough Fair by Simon & Garfunkel A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum… — Stephen Chbosky Copy Share Image
The bowed head, the buried face. She is silent, she will never speak, never forgive, never reach a hand, never leave this… — John Fowles Copy Share Image
