The birds can fly, An’ why can’t I? – John Townsend Trowbridge
Nonsense. Space is blue and birds fly through it. – Werner Heisenberg
Birds fly over the rainbow. Why then, oh, why can’t I? – Judy Garland
It is better to be a young June-bug than an old bird of paradise. – Mark Twain
Verse is the natural speech of men, as singing is of birds’The Week’s Survey, 18 June 1904 – Edward Thomas
When I was a kid I had this funny blonde hair and everyone called me ‘Chick’ because I looked like Tweety Bird. – Nicky Hilton
Imagine a future where we won’t be living in the past. I’d be flipping birds like a chicken breast on a spatula. – George Watsky
To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets. – William Shakespeare
Birds fly Over The Rainbow. Why then, oh why can’t I? If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can’t I? – L. Frank Baum
The birds can fly, an’ why can’t I? Must we give in, says he with a grin, That the bluebird an’ phoebe are smarter ‘n we be? – John Townsend Trowbridge
Just to settle it once and for all: Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The egg, laid by a bird that was not a chicken. – Neil deGrasse Tyson
“A bird in the boughs sang “”June,””
And “”June”” hummed a bee
In a Bacchic glee
As he tumbled over and over
Drunk with the honey-dew.” – Clinton Scollard
Because there is no meaning to be found in the arbitrary nature of things., It’s all random. Just as space is blue. And birds fly through it. – Douglas Kennedy
…dreadful birds, dressed in red with breasts of silver buttons, and cocked heads and sharp mouths, looking for guilt like berries on a bush. – Hannah Kent
She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot. – Mark Twain
I’m lucky to have very good genes. My mother was so tiny she was almost bird-like, and my father was tall and lean. Both lived until their early 80s. – Cherie Lunghi
Birds are extremely valued as indicators of overall environmental health. If there’s a problem in a wild bird population, it’s indicative that something went wrong. – Jim Elliot
Early bird Oh, if you’re a bird, be an early bird And catch the worm for your breakfast plate. If you’re a bird, be an early bird— But if you’re a worm, sleep late. – Shel Silverstein
I bet she woke up with her hair looking like something out of a Pantene commercial while little bluebirds circled around her head, and raccoons brought her breakfast or something. – Rachel Hawkins
I consider myself to have been the bridge between the shotgun and the binoculars in bird watching. Before I came along, the primary way to observe birds was to shoot them and stuff them. – Roger Tory Peterson
No bird in a cage ever speaks. What is there to say? The sky is everywhere, churning above its head, blue and endless, calling out to it. But the caged bird can’t answer anything except ‘I cannot’. – Sonya Hartnett
Beasts, birds, and insects, even to the minutest and meanest of their kind, act with the unerring providence of instinct; man, the while, who possesses a higher faculty, abuses it, and therefore goes blundering on. – Robert Southey
The beach has a language of its own, with its undulating ribbons of silt, the imponderable hieroglyphs of bird tracks. The receding waves catch on innumerable holes in the sand. Bubbles form and fade. A new language, with a new alphabet. – Franny Billingsley
I’m only asking you to stop every so often and turn off your mobile device, put down the Angry Birds and the Words with Friends and take a moment. Stop to look up and look around. Pause and check in with yourself – and spend a moment there. – Maria Shriver
Through her, in microcosm, the wide earth sobbed. The starglobe sank in her; the colours faded. The death-dew rose and the wild birds in her breast climbed to her throat and gathered songless, hovering, all tumult, wing to wing, so ardent for those climes where all things end. – Mervyn Peake
If we are going to do away with polygamy, it would only be one feather in the bird, one ordinance in the Church and Kingdom. Do away with that, then we must do away with the prophets and apostles, with revelation and the gifts and graces of the Gospel, and finally give up our religion altogether. – Wilford Woodruff
We are told that the trouble with modern man is that he has been trying to detach himself from nature… In this scenario, Man comes on as a stupendous lethal force, and the Earth is pictured as something delicate, like rising bubbles at the surface of a country pond, or flights of fragile birds. – Lewis Thomas
They who on meare curiositie (where no urgent necessitie requireth) try whether their children may not as birds be nourished without sucking, offend contrary to this dutie of breast feeding and reflect that meanes which God hath ordained as best; and so oppose their shallow wits to his unsearchable wisdom. – William Gouge
The bluebird enjoys the preeminence of being the first bit of color that cheers our northern landscape. The other birds that arrive about the same time–the sparrow, the robin, the phoebe-bird–are clad in neutral tints, gray, brown, or russet; but the bluebird brings one of the primary hues and the divinest of them all. – John Burroughs
Every generation has their own great players. Who’s to say that anyone’s better than Cheryl Miller or Nancy Lieberman? Whose anyone to say Michael Jordan is better than Oscar Robertson or Magic Johnson or Larry Bird? Every generation has its great player. There’s never going to be one player that’s so above and beyond anyone else. – Diana Taurasi
These are the saddest of possible words, Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance. Trio of Bear Cubs fleeter than birds, Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance. Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble, Making a Giant hit into a double, Words that are weighty with nothing but trouble, Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance. This brief poem, immortalized the Chicago Cubs’ double-play combination: Shortstop Joe Tinker, second baseman Johnny Evers, and first baseman Frank Chance. – Franklin P. Adams
“Marching onward, marching onward
Marching to that lovely tune
Marching onward, marching onward
Happy as a bird in June
Sliding onward, sliding onward
Listen to that rag
Hop and skip now do that slow, oh
Do that slow drag
Dance slowly, prance slowly
Now you hear that pretty rag
Dance slowly, prance slowly
Now you do the real slow drag
Waltz slowly, waltz slowly
Listen to the ragtime
Hop and skip
Now do the slow, oh, do the slow drag” – Scott Joplin
Promise me you’ll marry me. Not now. Someday. Because I need to know.” Claire felt a flutter inside, like a bird trying to fly, and a rush of heat that made her dizzy. And something else, something fragile as a soap bubble, and just as beautiful. Joy, in the middle of all this horror and heartbreak. “Yes,” she whispered back. “I promise.” And she kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, while the sun came up and bathed Morganville in one last, shining day. – Rachel Caine
No, no, it’s not all random, if it really was all random, the universe would abandon us completely. and the universe doesn’t. it takes care of its most fragile creations in ways we can’t see. like with parents who adore you blindly. and a big sister who feels guilty for being human over you. and a little gravelly-voiced kid whose friends have left him over you. and even a pink-haired girl who carries your picture in her wallet. maybe it is a lottery, but the universe makes it all even out in the end. the universe takes care of all its birds. – R. J. Palacio
The Violins waltzed. The Cellos and Basses provided accompaniment. The Violas mourned their fate, while the Concertmaster showed off. The Flutes did bird imitations…repeatedly, and the reed instruments had the good taste to admire my jacket. The Trumpets held a parade in honor of our great nation, while the French Horns waxed nostalgic about something or other. The Trombones had too much to drink. The Percussion beat the band, and the Tuba stayed home playing cards with his landlady, the Harp, taking sips of warm milk a blue little cup. “But the Composer is still dead. – Daniel Handler
