Quote by Bess Streeter Aldrich

“There were no larks anymore. There was only the setting sun spreading blood up the sky and the yowl of hounds on a breast-high…

— Anonymous

“We stayed away from the fact of Lark's existence, or anything to do with our actual thoughts.”

— Louise Erdrich

“When the lark sing he feels invulnerable.”

— Robert Macfarlane

“A lark, caught in a hunter’s net Sang sweeter then than ever, As if the falling melody Might wing and net dissever At dusk…

— Ken Follett

“Oh, it's all been such a lark.”

— Ian Fleming

I walk where once the grass was green And mourn the lark that sings no more What bird could sing whose eyes have seen…

— Tom Springfield

“I have always been a night owl rather than a lark.”

— Sara Sheridan

“O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.”

— Siegfried Sassoon

“Remember - no matter what happened the day before, the birds still wake up singing.”

— Sandy Snavely

“He saw the delicate blades of grass which the bodies of his comrades had fertilized; he saw the little shoots on the shell-shocked trees.…

— Humphrey Cobb

“Instead of singing, like the birds, I silently smiled at my incessant good fortune. As the sparrow had its trill, sitting on the hickory…

— Henry David Thoreau

“maybe she knew who my mother was and figured that no one can change the sound of an echo.”

— Allen Eskens