A bird does not sing because he has an answer. He sings because he has a song.
—Joan Walsh Anglund (b.1926) American Poet, Children’s Book Author
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
The birds are moulting. If man could only moult also—his mind once a year it’s errors, his heart once a year it’s useless passions.
—James Lane Allen (1849–1925) American Novelist, Short Story Writer
A forest bird never wants a cage.
—Henrik Ibsen (1828–1906) Norwegian Playwright
Enjoy the spring of love and youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year’s nest.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–82) American Poet, Educator, Academic
What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open-wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins and blue-birds that sang upon the bough when it was in blossom last Spring. In Summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round.
—Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836–1907) American Poet, Novelist, Traveler, Editor
If I had to choose, I would rather have birds than airplanes.
—Charles Lindbergh (1902–74) American Aviator, Inventor, Conservationist
Inventive man has invented nothing — nothing from scratch. If he has produced a machine that in motion overcomes the law of gravity, he learned the essentials from the observation of birds.
—Dorothy Thompson (1893–1961) American Journalist, Radio Personality
God gives every bird its food, but He does not throw it into the nest.
—Josiah Gilbert Holland (1819–81) American Editor, Novelist
Use what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.
—Henry van Dyke Jr. (1852–1933) American Author, Educator, Clergyman
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day’s work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.
—William Ernest Henley (1849–1903) English Poet, Critic, Editor