We are nature. We are nature seeing nature. The red-winged blackbird flies in us. — Susan Griffin 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
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
At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. — Wallace Stevens 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
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
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
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
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
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
“Vampires are slicker than goose shit on a glass window. Suave. Sultry. I'm neither of those things” — Chuck Wendig 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
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
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
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 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
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
Morning has broken Like the first morning. Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird. — Eleanor Farjeon 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
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
How sweet the harmonies of the afternoon! The Blackbird sings along the sunny breeze His ancient song of leaves, and summer boon;… — Frederick Tennyson Copy Share Image
I can walk into someone's house, kiss their wife, sit down at their table, and eat their dinner. I can lift a… — Holly Black Copy Share Image
