Quotes About Night Birds

#1. He thought about his long life and gave thanks for all the bounty and joy that he had been given. To want more, to wish for yet more, he knew, would be petty. He sighed happily, and listened to the wind sweeping down from the mountains, to the chirping of night birds.

Khaled Hosseini

#2. Those who wake at this hour feel a lonely separation from everyone but night birds and ghost crabs, never imagining the legion of kindred souls scattered in the darkness, who stare at ceilings and pace floors and look out windows and covet and worry and mourn.

Kathy Hepinstall

#3. First, the avid student must be aware that when the world was young it knew only seven things: water, life and death, salt, night, birds and the length of an hour.

Catherynne M Valente

#4. And we, from within the sigh of the trees, and the soft moss underfoot, and the calling of night birds, watched him as he watched, gazing where he should not.

Emmanuelle De Maupassant

#5. There was a tiny silence, only the soft hum of the fluorescence. I thought of her in the cold ruined house, with night birds keening above her and rain gentle all around, dying of breathing

Tana French

#6. In Georgia where children work day and night in the cotton mills they have just passed a bill to protect song birds. What about the little children from whom all song is gone?

Mary Harris Jones

#7. I would dream of birds and flora, beasts and cave dwellers. Every childhood night was a broken night. My sister escaped. For a while, my brother did too (extraordinarily).

Abigail George

#8. I sent a message in the wind, when the birds sang their song. And when you went to sleep last night, I told the moon, "Shine all night long". Just wanted you to talk to me, and I know it's been a while. And to answer your uestion, you are still my child.

Mary Mary

#9. Running through the grey-eyed dawn with last night's trash in mind, the brown dog scuttles through fluted gates while birds sing on above the world about a bit of fallen cheese, the shish kebob he ate and all the vagaries of plates

Andre Alexis

#10. The sun rose yellow as a lemon.
The sky was round and blue.
The birds looped clear water songs in the air.
Will and Jim leaned from their windows.
Nothing had changed.
Except the look in Jim's eyes.
"Last night ... " said Will. "Did or didn't it happen?

Ray Bradbury

#11. It was probably my parents who inspired me most. My father was a scientist and answered my scientific questions, while my mother took me on walks and showed me birds and plants. She also took me out at night and showed me the constellations and the aurora.

Nancy Roman

#12. This, however, is OKCupid, the vast, weird pink-and-blue toned jungle of the id masquerading as a dating site, where rare birds of modern romance flutter amongst the night-terrors of human loneliness and despair and the suspicious skin irritants of late-night hook-uppery.

Laurie Penny

#13. (from: Age Sixty-nine)
Often, lately, the night is a cold maw
and stars the scattered white teeth of the gods, which spare none of us. At dawn I have birds, clearly divine messengers that I don't understand
yet day by day feel the grace of their intentions.

Jim Harrison

#14. As a kid in Africa, you were so connected to nature itself because you went farming, watched the moon out at night, observed how the sky was different, and how the birds chanted different songs in the evening and the morning.

Ishmael Beah

#15. The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.

Pablo Neruda

#16. We lose our souls if we lose the experience of the forest, the butterflies, the song of the birds, if we can't see the stars at night.

Thomas Berry

#17. Yes, there was music after all. The sound of the swamp rose up to him. The sound of frogs and crickets, of birds and 'gators, of life in every puddle and pond and knothole and leaf. I Travel By Night

Robert McCammon

#18. Some men are daylight readers, who peruse the ambiguous wording of clouds or the individual letter shapes of wandering birds. Some, like myself, are librarians of the night, whose ephemeral documents consist of root-inscribed bones or whatever rustles in the thickets upon solitary walks.

Loren Eiseley

#19. World's flying like birds; my car's in flight. The city lights are spattered on my windshield like the fragments of the night. And I'm in flight. The sky's a wheel, a merry-go-round of wings and snow and steel, and fire. We'll tread the sky, we'll ride the scarlet horses.

Tanith Lee

#20. I slumbered spring's morning and missed the dawn from everywhere, I heard the cry of birds. That night the sound of wind and rain came. Who knows how many petals had fallen?

Meng Haoran

#21. All he could do was wait like this, patiently, until it grew light out and the birds awoke and began their day. All he could do was trust in the birds, in all the birds, with their wings and beaks.

Haruki Murakami

#22. Sun will rise, night will fade,
Roses shall bloom, birds will flock,
Winds ready to dance, lotus secretly smiles,
This is a promise, morning shall ever rise.

Harshada Pathare

#23. These steel monstrosities screamed night and day, blotted out the starlit skies and Northern Lights with flashing red strobes, slaughtered thousands of bats and entire flocks of birds banished tourism and wildlife, made people sick and drove them from their now-valueless homes.

Mike Bond

#24. We are rich rich birds now. What should we do with our free time?

J. Otto Seibold

#25. The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.

William Shakespeare

#26. Figure 14: Garter snakes hunt during the day and sleep at night in common dens with fellow garters. They eat anything they can overpower, including small rodents, birds, earthworms, and frogs.

Janet Evans

#27. Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me

Gus Kahn

#28. Do birds arise from ashes?
Will 5 years bring the dawn?
Or will night neverending
Subdue the rooster's song?

Ben Winch

#29. What is a potto?"
"It is a little furry creature that sleeps all day with its head between its legs and then walks about very, very slowly all night, high in the trees, slowly eating leaves and creeping up on birds as they roost and eating them too.

Patrick O'Brian

#30. Running from the birds to what, I didn't know. I ran. Why was I here at all? I ran through the night, ran within myself. Ran.

Ralph Ellison

#31. Was this perhaps life, then? - to have loved one summer in youth and not to have been aware of it until it was over, some sea-wet footprints on the floor and sand in the prints, the fragrance of a woman, soft loving lips in the dusk of a summer night, sea birds; and then nothing more; gone.

Halldor Laxness

#32. At night in bed, they talked. He, of the bees. She of the birds. Never of the birds and bees.

LaVyrle Spencer

#33. Why do birds sing in the morning? It's the triumphant shout: 'We got through another night!'

Enid Bagnold

#34. He worked night and day. He made a coat that would transform him; he would be more than a man; a winged creature, beautiful as light. All the birds brought him feathers. Even the eagle. Even the swan.

Catherine Fisher

#35. Birds are settling down for the night, singing lullabies to their young.

Suzanne Collins

#36. Haralal explained why the money came to his house at night, like birds to their nest, to be scattered next morning.

Rabindranath Tagore

#37. Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
His day's hot task hath ended in the west:
The owl, night's herald, shrieks-'tis very late;
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest;
And coal-black clouds, that shadow heaven's light,
Do summon us to part, and bid good night.

William Shakespeare

#38. I believe in the power of the imagination to remake the world, to release the truth within us, to hold back the night, to transcend death, to charm motorways, to ingratiate ourselves with birds, to enlist the confidences of madmen.

J.G. Ballard

#39. I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast
I am alone in the night
Been trying hard not to get into trouble, but I
I've got a war in my mind
So, I just ride

Lana Del Rey

#40. Sun drifts, moon breaches, cool air whispers into the night. Tears fall, arms comfort, birds in the distance take flight. Waning crescent, smother my cries, take me up to the inky skies." She

Melissa Foster

#41. What do they sing, the last birds
coasting down the twilight,
banking
across woods filled with darkness, their
frayed wings
curved on the world like a lover's arms
which form, night after night, in sleep,
an irremediable absence?

Galway Kinnell

#42. Either birds or bats flapped up and into the night as the gates rolled back into position. My money was on bats. Little blingy ones, carrying tiny Louis Vuitton clutches.

Cherie Priest

#43. Summer mornings, the light of the world pouring in and the silence. It was a barefoot life, the cool of the night on the floorboards, the green trees if you stepped outside, the first faint cries of the birds. He arrived in a suit and didn't put it on again until he went back to the city.

James Salter

#44. The shivering birds beneath the eaves Have sheltered for the night.

Claude McKay

#45. The sigh of all the seas breaking in measure round the isles soothed them; the night wrapped them; nothing broke their sleep, until, the birds beginning and the dawn weaving their thin voices in to its whiteness

Virginia Woolf

#46. All night I dreamt of bonfires and burn piles
and ghosts of men, and spirits
behind those birds of flame.
I cannot tell anymore when a door opens or closes,
I can only hear the frame saying, Walk through.

Ada Limon