Owls Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
the-owls-are-gathering-find-out-why-soon-jk-rowling
dont-count-your-owls-before-they-are-delivered-jk-rowling
i-have-become-brother-jackals-companion-owls-job-3029
i-am-a-brother-to-dragons-and-a-companion-to-owls
i-often-have-deer-on-my-property-theres-fox-owls-youre-not-going-to-see-that-in-city-billy-corgan
owls-are-known-as-lonely-birds-but-it-is-not-known-that-they-have-forest-as-their-best-friend-mehmet-murat-ildan
those-who-hoot-with-the-owls-by-night-should-not-fly-with-the-eagles-by-day
a-group-owls-is-called-parliament-wisdom-study-kimberley-payne
some-men-pray-only-when-world-is-dark-as-owls-hoot-at-night-austin-omalley
i-think-shocking-thing-to-discover-is-owls-are-not-stupid-feral-hard-to-train
in-japan-there-are-owl-cafes-where-you-can-pet-and-play-with-owls-while-enjoying-a-meal
it-was-great-to-see-owls-i-said-she-smiled-yes-theyre-wild-things-course-killers-savages-theyre-wonderful-david-almond
an-owl-is-traditionally-symbol-wisdom-we-are-neither-doves-nor-hawks-but-owls-we-are-vigilant-when-others-are-resting
therefore-i-will-wail-and-howl-i-will-go-stripped-and-naked-i-will-make-a-wailing-like-the-dragons-and-mourning-as-the-owls
i-am-brother-to-dragons-companion-to-owls-my-skin-is-black-upon-me-my-bones-are-burned-with-heat-alan-moore
the-truth-is-we-women-live-like-bats-owls-labor-like-beasts-die-like-worms-margaret-cavendish
ive-got-everything-i-need-nice-piece-land-with-hawks-owls-incredible-sunsets-good-will-my-neighbors
plo-style-plo-style-buddha-monks-with-owls-plo-style-buddha-monks-with-owls-plo-style-buddha-monks-with-owls-plo-style-method-man-feat-carlton-fisk
i-dont-give-hoot-about-owls-i-only-care-about-love-other-winged-objects-that-arent-wise-jarod-kintz
thorns-will-overrun-her-citadels-nettles-brambles-her-strongholds-she-will-become-haunt-for-jackals-home-for-owls-isaiah-3413
animals-like-crows-owls-black-cats-are-not-ominous-at-all-it-is-mens-superstitious-mind-which-is-inauspicious-one-mehmet-murat-ildan
i-will-turn-her-into-place-for-owls-into-swampland-i-will-sweep-her-with-broom-destruction-declares-lord-almighty-isaiah-1423
the-moon-is-my-mother-she-is-not-sweet-like-mary-her-blue-garments-unloose-small-bats-owls-sylvia-plath
but-desert-creatures-will-lie-there-jackals-will-fill-her-houses-there-owls-will-dwell-there-wild-goats-will-leap-about-isaiah-1321
words-should-wander-meander-they-should-fly-like-owls-flicker-like-bats-slip-like-cats-they-should-murmur-scream-dance-sing-david-almond
i-always-showed-myself-in-face-day-asserting-liberty-independence-my-country-while-some-others-like-owls-courted-concealment-were-too-much-afraid-losing-their-roosts-to-leave-the
the-wild-animals-honor-me-jackals-owls-because-i-provide-water-in-desert-streams-in-wasteland-to-give-drink-to-my-people-my-chosen-isaiah-4320
to-find-ones-special-quality-one-must-lead-life-deep-humility-to-serve-in-this-way-never-question-but-obey-is-blessing-st-aggies-charity-the-owls-kathryn-lasky
my-small-part-in-watchmen-is-that-every-now-then-alan-would-phone-me-neil-youre-educated-man-where-does-it-say-he-would-need-quote-from-bible-essay-about-owls-i-was-his-occasiona
opportunities-are-like-night-owls-they-like-to-streak-naked-howl-at-moon-a-lot-success-in-life-comes-down-to-luck-so-put-yourself-in-position-to-get-lucky-because-you-know-what-h
i-did-but-prompt-age-to-quit-their-clogs-by-known-rules-ancient-liberty-when-straight-barbarous-noise-environs-me-of-owls-cuckoos-asses-apes-john-milton
there-was-old-man-with-beard-who-said-it-is-just-as-i-feared-two-owls-hen-four-larks-wren-have-all-built-their-nests-in-my-beard
dont-ginny-well-send-you-loads-owls-well-send-you-hogwarts-toilet-seat-george-only-joking-mum-jk-rowling
light-itself-is-great-corrective-a-thousand-wrongs-abuses-that-are-grown-in-darkness-disappear-like-owls-bats-before-light-day
we-were-restless-for-ages-after-while-i-heard-owl-hooting-calmed-myself-by-thinking-it-flying-over-dark-fields-then-i-remembered-it-would-be-pouncing-on-mice-i-love-owls-but-i-wi
night-owls-is-fast-fun-read-that-kept-me-turning-pages-lauren-m-roy-delivers-plot-that-zips-dialogue-that-zings-cast-characters-youll-cheer-for-devon-monk
owls-hoot-in-b-flat-cuckoos-in-d-but-water-ousel-sings-in-voice-stream-she-builds-her-nest-back-waterfalls-water-is-lullaby-to-little-ones-must-be-where-they-learn-it-karen-joy-f
theyre-doing-everything-they-can-to-tighten-security-at-white-house-today-on-roof-white-house-they-added-one-those-fake-owls-david-letterman
perhaps-he-does-not-want-to-be-friends-with-you-until-he-knows-what-you-are-like-with-owls-it-is-never-easycomeeasygo-th-white
to-my-surprise-i-began-to-know-what-the-language-was-about-not-just-part-we-were-singing-now-but-whole-poem-it-began-with-praise-joy-in-all-creation-copying-voice-wind-sea-it-des
I wanted to write an adventure story, not, it's true, I really did. I shall have failed, that's all. Adventures bore me. I have no idea how to talk about countries, how to make people wish they had been there. I am not a good travelling salesman. Countries? Where are they , whatever became of them. When I was twelve I dreamed of Hongkong. That tedious, commonplace little provincial town! Shops sprouting from every nook and cranny! The Chinese junks pictured on the lids of chocolate boxes used to fascinate me. Junks: sort of chopped-off barges, where the housewives do all their cooking and washing on deck. They even have television. As for the Niagara Falls: water, nothing but water! A dam is more interesting; at least one can occasionally see a big crack at its base, and hope for some excitement. When one travels, one sees nothing but hotels. Squalid rooms, with iron bedsteads, and a picture of some kind hanging on the wall from a rusty nail, a coloured print of London Bridge or the Eiffel Tower. One also sees trains, lots of trains, and airports that look like restaurants, and restaurants that look like morgues. All the ports in the world are hemmed in by oil slicks and shabby customs buildings. In the streets of the towns, people keep to the sidewalks, cars stop at red lights. If only one occasionally arrived in a country where women are the colour of steel and men wear owls on their heads. But no, they are sensible, they all have black ties, partings to one side, brassie¨res and stiletto heels. In all the restaurants, when one has finished eating one calls over the individual who has been prowling among the tables, and pays him with a promissory note. There are cigarettes everywhere! There are airplanes and automobiles everywhere.

Jean-Marie G. Le Clezio
i-wanted-to-write-adventure-story-not-its-true-i-really-did-i-shall-have-failed-thats-all-adventures-bore-me-i-have-no-idea-how-to-talk-about-countries-how-to-make-people-wish-th
Little Red-Cap At childhood's end, the houses petered out into playing fields, the factory, allotments kept, like mistresses, by kneeling married men, the silent railway line, the hermit's caravan, till you came at last to the edge of the woods. It was there that I first clapped eyes on the wolf. He stood in a clearing, reading his verse out loud in his wolfy drawl, a paperback in his hairy paw, red wine staining his bearded jaw. What big ears he had! What big eyes he had! What teeth! In the interval, I made quite sure he spotted me, sweet sixteen, never been, babe, waif, and bought me a drink, my first. You might ask why. Here's why. Poetry. The wolf, I knew, would lead me deep into the woods, away from home, to a dark tangled thorny place lit by the eyes of owls. I crawled in his wake, my stockings ripped to shreds, scraps of red from my blazer snagged on twig and branch, murder clues. I lost both shoes but got there, wolf's lair, better beware. Lesson one that night, breath of the wolf in my ear, was the love poem. I clung till dawn to his thrashing fur, for what little girl doesn't dearly love a wolf? Then I slid from between his heavy matted paws and went in search of a living bird - white dove - which flew, straight, from my hands to his hope mouth. One bite, dead. How nice, breakfast in bed, he said, licking his chops. As soon as he slept, I crept to the back of the lair, where a whole wall was crimson, gold, aglow with books. Words, words were truly alive on the tongue, in the head, warm, beating, frantic, winged; music and blood. But then I was young - and it took ten years in the woods to tell that a mushroom stoppers the mouth of a buried corpse, that birds are the uttered thought of trees, that a greying wolf howls the same old song at the moon, year in, year out, season after season, same rhyme, same reason. I took an axe to a willow to see how it wept. I took an axe to a salmon to see how it leapt. I took an axe to the wolf as he slept, one chop, scrotum to throat, and saw the glistening, virgin white of my grandmother's bones. I filled his old belly with stones. I stitched him up. Out of the forest I come with my flowers, singing, all alone.

Carol Ann Duffy
little-redcap-at-childhoods-end-houses-petered-out-into-playing-fields-factory-allotments-kept-like-mistresses-by-kneeling-married-men-silent-railway-line-hermits-caravan-till-yo
?Earn cash when you save a quote by clicking
EARNED Load...
LEVEL : Load...