Feathers! spluttered Sargatanas. Feathers are for the birds, my boy. Flaking, peeling, scale-ridden wings, now that's what real beings wear. I'll tell you a secret. He said, and drew me closer. The eternal pain at having known Paradise and lost it is priceless. I wouldn't swap it for anything.
Feathers!" spluttered Sargatanas. "Feathers are for the birds, my boy. Flaking, peeling, scale-ridden wings, now that's what real beings wear. I'll tell you a secret." He said, and drew me closer. "The eternal pain at having known Paradise and lost it is priceless. I wouldn't swap it for anything.
What dinosaur traits are missing from an ostrich? The ostrich has a toothless beak, but there are mutations that cause teeth and claws to come back to their mouth and limbs. You need to replace the feathers with scales, but there are no feathers on their legs and feet, so you just need to make its whole body like its legs are.
George M. Church
There is one more thing, " said Mr. Peabody. "Now you must go and pick up all the feathers."... "I don't think it's possible to pick up all the feathers, " Tommy replied. "It would be just as impossible to undo the damage that you have done by spreading the rumor that I am a thief, " said Mr. Peabody. "Each feather represents a person in Happyville."... "Next time, don't be so quick to judge a person. And remember the power of your words.
We ask ourselves all kinds of questions, such as why does a peacock have such beautiful feathers, and we may answer that he needs the feathers to impress a female peacock, but then we ask ourselves, and why is there a peacock? And then we ask, why is there anything living? And then we ask, why is there anything at all? And if you tell some advocate of scientism that the answer is a secret, he will go white hot and write a book. But it is a secret. And the experience of living with the secret and thinking about it is in itself a kind of faith.
We saw the strong trees struggle and their plumes do down, The poplar bend and whip back till it split to fall, The elm tear up at the root and topple like a crown, The pine crack at the base - we had to watch them all. The ash, the lovely cedar. We had to watch them fall. They went so softly under the loud flails of air, Before that fury they went down like feathers, With all the hundred springs that flowered in their hair, and all the years, endured in all the weathers - To fall as if they were nothing, as if they were feathers.
I asked my schoolmate Mary to write a letter to me. She was funny and full of life. She liked to run around her empty house without any clothes on, even once she was too old for that. Nothing embarrassed her. I admired that so much, because everything embarrassed me, and that hurt me. She loved to jump on her bed. She jumped on her bed for so many years that one afternoon, while I watched her jump, the seams burst. Feathers filled the small room. Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly if there wasn't someone, somewhere, laughing?
Jonathan Safran Foer
STEEP TECH ON MY BACK WHEN I CRACK-A THE DAY I'M TALKIN' THAT STEEP TECH TALKIN' THAT 8-HUNNID FILL NO SWEATER THAT'S CHEAP PRESSED AND MY FEET SWEAT WHEN THE HEAT TEC UNDERNEATH MY LEE'S NEXT TO MY WEED, NEXT TO MY WALLET OVER MY KNEES AND I BE WANNA POP OUT THE SLEEVES, I COULD BE GETTING, NECK OR BE SPRINTING OR ON THIS TRAIN AND I BE SWEATIN' CAUSE OF THIS LEATHER THAT I BE WEARIN' CAUSE OF THIS WEATHER HALF OF THIS CITY YEAH THEY BE IGHT' AND THEY TRYNA, TRYNA BE GETTIN' EVERY 700 ONE OF THESE FEATHERS EVERY 700 ONE OF THESE FEATHERS
Father Brendan Flynn: "A woman was gossiping with her friend about a man whom they hardly knew - I know none of you have ever done this. That night, she had a dream: a great hand appeared over her and pointed down on her. She was immediately seized with an overwhelming sense of guilt. The next day she went to confession. She got the old parish priest, Father O' Rourke, and she told him the whole thing. 'Is gossiping a sin?' she asked the old man. 'Was that God All Mighty's hand pointing down at me? Should I ask for your absolution? Father, have I done something wrong?' 'Yes, ' Father O' Rourke answered her. 'Yes, you ignorant, badly-brought-up female. You have blamed false witness on your neighbor. You played fast and loose with his reputation, and you should be heartily ashamed.' So, the woman said she was sorry, and asked for forgiveness. 'Not so fast, ' says O' Rourke. 'I want you to go home, take a pillow upon your roof, cut it open with a knife, and return here to me.' So, the woman went home: took a pillow off her bed, a knife from the drawer, went up the fire escape to her roof, and stabbed the pillow. Then she went back to the old parish priest as instructed. 'Did you gut the pillow with a knife?' he says. 'Yes, Father.' 'And what were the results?' 'Feathers, ' she said. 'Feathers?' he repeated. 'Feathers; everywhere, Father.' 'Now I want you to go back and gather up every last feather that flew out onto the wind, ' 'Well, ' she said, 'it can't be done. I don't know where they went. The wind took them all over.' 'And that, ' said Father O' Rourke, 'is gossip!
John Patrick Shanley