Bird Cage Quotes

Watching as Ryanne slides her pencil across the page. it looks like she is drawing a bird cage. inside the cage is a small detailed bird. the door of the bird cage is hanging open. Cursive writing wraps around the exterior of the cage. i lean closer a little to see what she wrote: if you love something, set it free.. ~ Kaitlyn Hoyt

Bird cage is nice only when it is empty! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

SWEETEST IN THE GALE
by
Michelle Valois

After Emily Dickinson

You won't lose your hair, I heard at the start of treatment, and though I didn't, I lost a litany of other lesser and greater luxuries - saliva, stamina, taste buds, my voice - but my hair, during that chilly sojourn in the land of extremity to which I had sailed on a strange and stormy sea, my hair was not taken from me.

Had it been, I would have perched one of those 18th century wigs on my head, such as those worn by the French aristocracy, measuring three, four, even five feet high and stuffed, as they were known to be, with all sorts of things: ribbons, pearls, jewels, flowers, tunes without words, reproductions of great sailing vessels, my soul inside a little bird cage - ornaments selected to satisfy a theme: the signs of the Zodiac (à la Zodiaque) or the discovery of a new vaccine (à l'inoculation) or, as was the case in June of 1782, the first successful hot air balloon flight by the brothers Michel and Etienne Montgolfier.

Regarde, I exclaim to my ladies in waiting, pointing to the sky on that bright afternoon as the balloon, made of linen and paper, rises some 6,000 feet. Later, a duck, then a sheep, and finally a human is carried away. I watch, inspired, hopeful, whispering, lest my doctors overhear: when the storm turns sore, and that little bird escapes her little bird cage and is abashed without reckoning, I will sail away in my balloon, prepared, ~ Michelle Valois

A bird never learns to fly when it is locked in a cage. ~ Giovannie De Sadeleer

Neither of us could stay within an enclosed cage for long. ~ Emory R. Frie

I'm trying to keep you safe."
Safe as a porcelain bowl wrapped in cotton linen and boxed up. It would be a lie to say she didn't want to feel safe, or that Nolan's worry didn't leave her feeling warm and even a bit precious. But it also left her feeling trapped, like an ornamental bird kept in a cage, its wings clipped. ~ Page Morgan

Most people would succeed in small things if they were not troubled with great ambitions. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

At core, no matter how kindly may be your thoughts of the human race, there are times when all you want to do is crumple it up and either set fire to it, or use it to pad the floor of a bird cage.
Big bird cage.
Really big bird. ~ Harlan Ellison

Independence is a feeling a bird has when released from the cage....a feeling child has when he or she learns to walk....a feeling a youngster has when he or she receives the first pay....a feeling that a woman of conservative Muslim family has when she removes her 'burqa'....a feeling the soul has when liberated!!! ~ Mukesh Kwatra

Marriage is like a cage one sees the birds outside desperate to get in, and those inside desperate to get out ... ~ Michel De Montaigne

Teach them the shame that tells the lie, "I am unforgivable," when the truth is, "I feel unforgivable, but it was out of my control." Never let them switch those round right or The Adversary will liberate them in a heartbeat, like a bird flying from a cage. ~ Geoffrey Wood

You didn't marry?" Aunt Blythe asked Andrew.
He glanced at me. "When I was a boy no older than Drew, I had a close brush with death. It always seemed to me a miracle that I lived."
Once more Hannah made an attempt to stop her brother with a poke of her cane, but Andrew went on talking, his eyes on my face, his voice solemn. "I often thought I'd been meant to die, so I decided to lead a solitary life. There's no way of telling what one person might do to change the history of the world."
Before he could say anything else, Hannah patted Aunt Blythe's arm. "I brought along an old photo album. Would you please fetch it from the car?"
As soon as my aunt was out of sight, Hannah said, "If you don't hush, Andrew, we're going to leave the minute Blythe comes back. I swear I don't know what ails you. You might as well be twelve years old!"
She turned to me then and took my hand. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Drew? He was an absolute imp when he was your age and he still is. All that's changed is his outside."
I stared into Hannah's eyes, faded now to the color of shadows on winter snow. "He told you, didn't he?"
"In some ways, I think I knew all along." Hannah squeezed my hand. "I'm so glad we've lived long enough to see you again."
I flung my arms around her. She felt as thin-boned as a bird, and I was afraid to hug her too tightly. I didn't want to hurt her.
"It must be a shock to see us so old," Hannah said. "I'm afraid I ~ Mary Downing Hahn

The natural/supernatural distinction itself, and the near-equation of 'supernatural' with 'superstition', are scarecrows that Enlightenment thought has erected in its fields to frighten away anyone following the historical argument where it leads. It is high time the birds learned to take no notice. ~ N. T. Wright

America, my dear, I hope you find something, in this cage worth fighting for. ~ Kiera Cass

I was conscripted during the war and even made to do coolie labor. The sneakers I now wear when I work in the fields are the ones the Army issued me. That was the first time in my life I had put such things on my feet, but they were surprisingly comfortable, and when I walked around the garden wearing them I felt as if I could understand the light-heartedness of the bird or animal that walks barefoot on the ground. That is the only pleasant memory I have of the war. What a dreary business the war was. ~ Osamu Dazai

Y
That perfect letter. The wishbone, fork in the road, empty wineglass. The question we ask over and over. Why? Me with my arms outstretched, feet in first position. The chromosome half of us don't have. Second to last in the alphabet: almost there. Coupled with an L, let's make an adverb. A modest X, legs closed. Y or N? Yes, of course. Upside-down peace sign. Little bird tracks in the sand.
Y, a Greet letter, joined the Latin alphabet after the Romans conquered Greece in the first century
a double agent: consonant and vowel. No one used adverbs before then, and no one was happy. ~ Marjorie Celona

I remember when my daddy gave me that gun. He told me that I should never point it at anything in the house; and that he'd rather I'd shoot at tin cans in the backyard. But he said that sooner or later he supposed the temptation to go after birds would be too much, and that I could shoot all the blue jays I wanted - if I could hit 'em; but to remember it was a sin to kill a mockingbird. ~ Harper Lee

Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious or bird fair,
Be absent hence! ~ William Shakespeare

I love Nic Cage. He was so much fun to work with. ~ Diane Kruger

Sometimes while sitting there staring out the window, I imagined a place in my mind, a white room. A simple space coated in white paint. The white represented responsibility, obligation. It didn't require what responsibility and obligation required, but it had the same effect. It maintained the person in the room; it kept the person alive and well, along with everything and everyone that person cared for, but nothing the person held dear existed in the room. The person was alone. The person experienced no joy from bearing the weight of responsibility, earned no prize.

I imagined a particular person in the room - a woman, also clothed in white. This woman constantly faced a dilemma. She longed for freedom. She longed to be the bird.

Her open palms grazed the rutted expanse of the wall. She knew that something lay beyond - beyond the white. She could burst out into the world of grass, sky, and lavender, but she knew that if she broke through the barricade, everything she protected would crumble, suffocate, and wither behind her. Her own freedom would last only moments because she, too, couldn't survive without the white. Earth and water would smother her, and radiant light would slice through her like a blade.

I imagined her pressing with both hands, weighing freedom against existence and all that depended on her, but in the end she lightened her stance and stepped away. She always chose to stay, to fulfill her obligation.

I thought ~ Stephanie Carroll

This is better than a romance novel." P.J. said with a wistful sigh.
"You read that stuff?" Cole demanded.
"Why the hell do you ask the question like that?" P.J. said, annoyance evident in her tone and expression.
"You just didn't seem the type," Cole mumbled.
She flipped him the bird, and Shea had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. P.J. was easily half Cole's size but she also looked like she had the confidence to take on the much larger man. She might even kick his ass. The idea intrigued Shea greatly.
"I'm tempted to shove one of my romance novels up your ass." P.J. said sharply. "But I love my books too much to desecrate them like that, I'll settle for my boot."
Cole held up his hands in surrender. "I won't say another word. Romance novels are great. I love romance novels. I think everyone should read them. ~ Maya Banks

With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons and their change, all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild, then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering starlight without thee is sweet. ~ John Milton

Send out the whisper," Ramil told Melletin, "starting with all Brigardians in the pens. Tell them the Dark Prince who escaped Fergox has come to lead them--"

"But you're in the cage with them," Melletin pointed out.

Ramil shrugged. "They don't need to know that. Keep it vague and majestic. ~ Julia Golding

You count the days and watch the years go by. You tell yourself, and you believe it, that you'd rather just die. You'd rather stare death boldly in the face and say you're ready because whatever is waiting on the other side has to be better than growing old in a six-by-ten cage with no one to talk to. You consider yourself half-dead at best. Please take the other half.
You've watched dozens leave and not return, and you accept the fact that one day they'll come for you. You're nothing but a rat in their lab, a disposable body to be used as proof that their experiment is working. An eye for an eye, each killing must be avenged. You kill enough and you're convinced that killing is good.
You count the days, and then there are none left. You ask yourself on your last morning if you are really ready. You search for courage, but the bravery is fading. When it's over, no one really wants to die. ~ John Grisham

was the first time he'd ever been able to get out of that cage since then. It was amazing and heartbreaking to find that when he pushed, the door swung right open. ~ Leta Blake

The late bird gets the fish that got the worm. ~ Brian Spellman

And so it turns out that all talk of gradual moves toward a political union and toward "more Europe" are not first steps toward a European democratic federation but, rather, and ominously, a leap into an iron cage that prolongs the crisis and wrecks any prospect of a genuine federal European democracy in the future. ~ Yanis Varoufakis

Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day. ~ Alexander Pope

There may be a Nurse Ratched-like listing of things that must be done right this moment: foods that must come out of the freezer, appointments that must be canceled or made, hairs that must be tweezed. But you hold an imaginary gun to your head and make yourself stay at the desk. ~ Anne Lamott

I had to face: I had chosen. My choice, this was love. I had chosen I think the way out of the chains of the cage. I needed this woman. Without her to choose over myself, there was only pain and not choosing, rolling drunkenly and making fantasies of death. ~ David Foster Wallace

A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over: "Allez vous-en! Allez vous-en! Sapristi! That's all right!" He could speak a little Spanish, and also a language which nobody understood, unless it was the mockingbird that hung on the other side of the door, whistling his fluty notes out upon the breeze with maddening persistence. ~ Kate Chopin

Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly. ~ Ivan Turgenev

Fish got to swim, birds got to fly. ~ Oscar Hammerstein II

Throughout history, the ruling class has gotten even better at enslaving you all," Gugalanna said. "They trick you into believing it's for your own good. They keep you safe, they promise. This is what you need, they guarantee. And now they've done such a wonderful job I doubt most of you even realize that you're caged.
"Those with all the power have always hidden away from those they oppress, and none are as far away or as powerful as those that hide in Vanaheimr, far removed from the mess that they've created." The Bull stopped speaking long enough to case a disparaging glare toward the sky, toward the legendary house of the Vanir gods and goddesses.
"It wasn't until I was trapped in the underworld that I began to see the earth for what it truly is: a cage," Gugalanna explained. "A place to hold you, to keep you busy, distracted. So you don't realize what they're doing to you and everything around you. ~ Amanda Hocking

What worked yesterday is the gilded cage of tomorrow. ~ Peter Block

I will never be without information,' she determined. 'I will do better than my sisters. If a bird or any other beast comes out of that uncanny republic where husbands are grown, I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.' For this is how Marya Morevna surmised that love was shaped: an agreement, a treaty between two nations that one could either sign or not as they pleased. ~ Catherynne M Valente

My soul was not meant to be in a cage. Not then, and not now.
-Alina Chase ~ Megan Miranda

One of the things I miss about teaching is that students would tell me what I ought to read. One of my students, back in the 1960s, put me onto Borges, and I remember another mentioning Flann O'Brien's At Swim Two-Birds in the same way. ~ John Barth

A bird killed in the name of human power is in truth a loss of power from the world, not an addition to it. ~ Linda Hogan

I was a bird. I lived a bird's life from birth to death. I was born the thirty-second chick in the Jipu family.

I remember everything in detail. I remember breaking out of the shell at birth. But I learned later that my mother had gently cracked the shell first to ease my way.

I dozed under my mother's chest for the first few days. Her feathers were so warm and soft! I was strong, so I kicked away my siblings to keep the cozy spot.

Just 10 days after I was born, I was given flying lessons. We all had to learn quickly because there were snakes and owls and hawks. My little brothers and sisters, who didn't practice enough, all died. My little sister looked so unhappy when she got caught. I can still see her face.

Before I could fly, I hadn't known that our nest was on the second-lowest branch of a big tree. My parents chose the location wisely. Snakes could reach the lowest branch and eagles and hawks could attack us if we lived at the top.

We soared through the sky, above mountains and forests. But it wasn't just for fun! We always had to watch out for enemies, and to hunt for food.

Death was always nearby. You could easily starve or freeze to death. Life wasn't easy. Once, I got caught in a monsoon. I smacked into a tree and lay bleeding for days.

Many of my family and friends died, one after another. To help rebuild our clan, I found myself a female and married her. She was so sweet. She laid many e ~ Osamu Tezuka

Before leaving the earth altogether, let us as: How does Music stand with respect to its instruments, their pitches, the scales, modes and rows, repeating themselves from octave to octave, the chords, harmonies, and tonalities, the beats, meters, and rhythms, the degrees of amplitude (pianissimo, piano, mezzo-piano, mezzo-forte, forte, fortissimo)? Though the majority go each day to the schools where these matters are taught, they read when time permits of Cape Canaveral, Ghana, and Seoul. And they've heard tell of the music synthesizer, magnetic tape. They take for granted the dials on radios and television sets. A tardy art, the art of Music. And why so slow? Is it because, once having learned a notation of pitches and durations, musicians will not give up their Greek? Children have been modern artists for years now. What is it about Music that sends not only the young but adults too as far into the past as they can conveniently go? The module? But our choices never reached around the globe, and in our laziness, when we changed over to the twelve-tone system, we just took the pitches of the previous music as though we were moving into a furnished apartment and had no time to even take the pictures off the walls. What excuse? That nowadays things are happening so quickly that we become thoughtless? Or were we clairvoyant and knew ahead of time that the need for furniture of any kind would disappear? (Whatever you place there in front of you sits established in the air.) The ~ John Cage

When a captive lion steps out of his cage, he comes into a wider world than the lion who has known only the wilds. While he was in captivity, there were only two worlds for him - the world of the cage, and the world outside the cage. Now he is free. He roars. He attacks people. He eats them. Yet he is not satisfied, for there is no third world that is neither the world of the cage nor the world outside the cage. ~ Yukio Mishima

Considering how long it's been since I said it, I would've assumed I'd be more rusty. Well, that and the fact that the last time I was talking to a horse. ~ Jessica Bird

Ali stares dreamily at the shadows of the garden. I wonder why he's the one who seems to be pining for something. I look intently at the dark sky as I consider his questions and finally I realise what 'home' means to me. Even with a roof over my head I'm still homeless in my heart. Bricks and mortar don't mean anything. I'm not sure if I want a real home right now, somewhere I belong. Not that one is on offer or available to someone like me. Some days, I long for the freedom of the streets, strange as it may sound to anyone who has never been homeless. My bedsit and the job are like a hamster's cage, giving me temporary shelter but making me go round and round in circles ~ A. Zukowski

I'm addicted to warm Thanksgiving bird meat, but I should just quit cold turkey. To me, the beginning of December is like leftover November. ~ Jarod Kintz