Birds Quotes

Birds sing sweetly, but someone awakened by them at 5 a.m. of a summer morning might dispute the adverb.

The birds I heard today, which did not come within the scope of my science, sang as freshly as if it had been the first morning of creation.

Be like the bird, who
Halting in his flight
On limb too slight
Feels it give way beneath him,
Yet sings
Knowing he hath wings.

Over increasingly large areas of the Unites States, spring now comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and the early mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with the beauty of bird song.

Birds!  birds!  Ye are beautiful things,
With your earth-treading feet and your cloud-cleaving wings!

If only I could so live and so serve the world that after me there should never again be birds in cages.

How pleasant the lives of the birds must be,
Living in love in a leafy tree!

Butterflies and birds are like one perfect teaspoon of creation.

Only to the rude ear of one who is quite indifferent does the song of a bird seem always the same.

Birds are very busy at one period each year caring for babies, but this lasts only a few weeks with many of them, and then their babies are grown and gone.

To a man, ornithologists are tall, slender, and bearded so that they can stand motionless for hours, imitating kindly trees, as they watch for birds.

Few things are more stimulating than the sight of the forceful wings of large birds cleaving the vagueness of air and making the piled clouds a mere background for their concentrated life.

"Did St. Francis preach to the birds?" asked Kate. "Whatever for?  If he really liked birds he would have done better to preach to cats."

When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head!

The mocking bird is music-mad to-night,
He thinks the stars are notes;
That he must sing each spattered star, and be
A choir of many throats.

Never till one gray evening last week, when the world seemed cold and dreary, did I identify the robin as the Beethoven of birds.

Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember, it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.

Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy.  They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us.  That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.

The kingfisher was a murderous bird, a kind of flying jackknife.

Healthy parakeets have the nervous energy of tennis players.

Conceited brutes.  They always look as though they'd just been reading their own fan-mail.