Quotes About Jays
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On the appearance of Clayton Moore at a Blue Jays home game - It's not very often you get to see the Lone Ranger and Toronto in the same night. ~ Bobby Bragan
What are you thinking about?" Jay asked as he plopped down next to her.
She blinked, wondering if she was wearing her frustration on her face. "Nothing," she lied, pushing her salad around her plate.
She wasn't sure why she didn't just tell him.
"Doesn't look like nothing," Jules interrupted from across the table.
Violet cast a quick glare at her friend for inconveniently pointing out the obvious.
"What?" Jay asked, nudging Violet with his shoulder. "Tell me."
Violet hesitated, suddenly embarrassed over her new insecurity. Yet, inside her head, she bitterly referred to Mike as "Jay's boyfriend."
Ironically, though, it was Mike who saved Violet from having to confess those very thoughts, when he slid into an open space on the other side of the table. "What'd I miss?" His lazy smile reached all the way into his tawny-colored eyes, and even the dimples on his cheek made a fleeting appearance.
Violet could see the draw for Chelsea; he was sort of stunning to look at.
So then what was Jay's excuse? She jokingly hoped it wasn't the adorable dimple too. ~ Kimberly Derting
In the beginning, when Twaslitri (the Divine Artificer) came to the creation of woman he found that he had exhausted his materials in the making of man and that no solid elements were left. In this dilemma, after pro-found meditation, he did as follows: he took the rotundity of the moon, and the curves of the creepers, and the clinging of tendrils, and the trembling of grass, and the slenderness of the reed, and the bloom of flowers, and the lightness of leaves, and the tapering of the elephant's trunk, and the glances of deer, and the clustering of rows of bees, and the joyous gaiety of sun-beams, and the weeping of clouds, and the fickleness of the winds, and the timidity of the hare, and the vanity of the peacock, and the softness of the parrot's bosom, and the hardness of adamant, and the sweetness of honey, and the cruelty of the tiger, and the warm glow of fire, and the coldnesss of snow, and the chattering of jays, and the cooing of the kokila, and the hypocrisy of the crane, and the fidelity of the chakravaka; and compounding all these together, he made woman and gave her to man.
(Written by scholars of the Vedic Age) ~ F.W. Bain
What are you two doing?" Her uncle's teasing voice came into the room before he did. But his voice was the second warning that they were no longer alone, since Violet had tasted his presence long before he'd actually stepped into her house. Ever since saving her and Jay at Homecoming, her uncle carried an imprint of his own. The bitter taste of dandelions still smoldered on Violet's tongue whenever he was near. A taste that Violet had grown to accept. And even, to some degree, to appreciate. "Nothing your parents wouldn't approve of, I hope," he added.
Violet flashed Jay a wicked grin. "We were just making out, so if you could make this quick, we'd really appreciate it."
Jay jumped up from beside her. "She's kidding," he blurted out. "We weren't doing anything."
Her uncle Stephen stopped where he was and eyed them both carefully. Violet could've sworn she felt Jay squirming, even though every single muscle in his body was frozen in place. Violet smiled at her uncle, trying her best to look guilty-as-charged.
Finally he raised his eyebrows, every bit the suspicious police officer. "Your parents asked me to stop by and check on you on my way home. They won't be back until late. Can I trust the two of you here . . . alone?"
"Of course you can - " Jay started to say.
"Probably not - " Violet answers at the same time. And then she caught a glimpse of the horror-stricken expression on Jay's face, and she laughed. "Relax, Uncle Stephen, we're fine. We ~ Kimberly Derting
If there was ever an aviary overstocked with jays it is that Yaptouwn on the Hudson called New York ~ O. Henry
You've both got that sweet Hotbox sheen. Looks better on the two of you than the last pair. By the way, one of them is . . ." He swipes his thumb across his throat, indicating that the kid quit, and not that he actually offed himself. I hope.
"Another one?" Grace murmurs.
He leans back against the door, one foot propped up, scrolling through his phone. The propped-up foot puts his knee in my space, mere centimeters from mine. It's like he's purposely trying to crowd me. "This job weeds out the weak, Gracie. They should flash their photos over the teepees in the fake starry sky in Jay's Wing. ~ Jenn Bennett
There are folks who can't abide camp-robber jays, but I take to them. Often enough they've been my only company for days at a time, and they surely do get friendly. They'll steal your grub right from under your nose, but who I am to criticize the lifestyle of a bird? He has his ways, I have mine. Like I say, I take to them. ~ Louis L'Amour
As we still ascend from shelf to shelf, we find the tenants of the tower serially disposed in order of their magnitude: gannets, black and speckled haglets, jays, sea hens, sperm-whale birds, gulls of all varieties -- thrones, princedoms, powers, dominating one above another in senatorial array; while, sprinkled over all, like an ever-repeated fly in a great piece of broidery, the stormy petrel or Mother Cary's chicken sounds his continual challenge and alarm. ~ Herman Melville
Jay's a people person. I'm more of a "yes, people exist, but that doesn't mean I need to talk to them" person. ~ Angie Thomas
It's weird being alone in the museum. It's dark and eerily quiet: Only the after-hours lights are on - just enough to illuminate the hallways and stop you from tripping over your own feet - and the background music that normally plays all the time is shut off.
I quickly organize the flashlights and check their batteries, and when I don't hear Porter walking around, I stare at the phone sitting at the information desk. How many chances come along like this? I pick up the receiver, press the little red button next to the word ALL, and speak into the phone in a low voice. "Paging Porter Roth to the information desk," I say formally, my voice crackling through the entire lobby and echoing down the corridors. Then I press the button again and add, "While you're at it, check your shoes to make sure they're a match, you bastard. By the way, I still haven't quite forgiven you for humiliating me. It's going to take a lot more than a kiss and a cookie to make me forget both that and the time you provoked me in the Hotbox."
I'm only teasing, which I hope he knows. I feel a little drunk on all my megaphone power, so I page one more thing:
"PS - You look totally hot in those tight-fitting security guard pants tonight, and I plan to get very handsy with you at the movies, so we better sit in the back row."
I hang up the phone and cover my mouth, silently laughing at myself. Two seconds later, Porter's footfalls pound down Jay's corridor - Boom! B ~ Jenn Bennett
Toronto is the greatest and happiest city on earth, but despite that - maybe because of that - it made me unhappy, as I just lived in an apartment there, never seeing anyone. Once I went to watch the Blue Jays play baseball, but being surrounded by so many people who I knew I could never connect with was the thing that made me want to [leave]. ~ Matt Haig
Jay's mom was a lot of great things that Violet admired, technologically savvy was definitely not one of them. She was one of those people who were loath to move into the twenty-first century and embrace all things modern. She was the only adult woman that Violet knew of who didn't own a cell phone, and she refused to buckle beneath the pressure to pay good money for high-speed internet, so Jay was forced to plug his secondhand laptop into the phone line and use dial-up. Not because they couldn't afford such luxuries, but because Ann Heaton wasn't going down without a fight. ~ Kimberly Derting
Atticus said to Jem one day, "I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the backyard, but I know you'll go after birds. Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird." That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it. "Your father's right," she said. "Mockingbirds don't do one thing except make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corn cribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird. ~ Harper Lee
As far as our noblest hardwood forests are concerned, the animals, especially squirrels and jays, are our greatest and almost only benefactors. It is to them that we owe this gift. It is not in vain that the squirrels live in or about every forest tree, or hollow log, and every wall and heap of stones. ~ Henry David Thoreau
The most important extra-curricular lesson we learned, - and we learned it properly, - was summed up in Chief Justice Jay's dictum that "justice is always the same, whether it be due from one man to a million, or from a million to one man." We learned this, not by precept, but by example, which is the best way to learn such lessons. In ~ Albert Jay Nock
Orioles fought with tigers, blue jays battled against angels, bear cubs warred with giants, and none of it made any sense. A baseball player was a man, and yet once he joined a team he was turned into an animal, a mutant being, or a spirit who lived in heaven next to God. According ~ Paul Auster
At the sound of her uncle's voice coming from the back door, Jay threw Violet off his lap.
Violet giggled as she hit the cushions on the back of the couch.
"What are you doing?" she complained. "It's just Uncle Stephen."
Jay sat up. "I know, but ever since the Homecoming Dance, I feel like he's always watching us. I just don't want him to think we're doing anything we shouldn't be."
The Homecoming Dance. It had been almost three months since that night, but the memories still made Violet shudder.
Not a day went by that she wasn't grateful Jay was still alive. Grateful the bullet from the killer's gun had only grazed his shoulder, despite the fact that the man-one of her uncle's own officers-had been aiming directly for Jay's heart.
If her uncle hadn't shown up at the dance when he did, firing the fatal shot that took the killer down, neither she nor Jay would have made it out of there alive.
Jay had always liked her uncle before then, but now it was something closer to worship. ~ Angie Frazier
The sharp scents made my throat ache. I had been up such hillsides before, and smelled these same spring scents. But then the pine and grass scent had been diluted with the smell of petrol fumes from the road below and the voices of day trippers replaced those of the jays. Last time I walked such a path, the ground was littered with sandwich wrappers and cigarette butts instead of mallow blossoms and violets. Sandwich wrappers seemed a reasonable enough price to pay, I supposed, for such blessings of civilization as antibiotics and telephones, but just for the moment, I was willing to settle for the violets. I badly needed a little peace, and I felt it here. ~ Diana Gabaldon
A loud song with a thumping beat rang from Jay's pocket. He gave me a goofy grin and began to bop his head back and forth to the rhythm. Oh, no-not the crazy booty dance.
"Please don't," I begged.
Jay broke into his funky ringtone dance, shoulders bouncing and hips moving from side to side. People around us stepped away, surprised, then began to laugh and cheer him on. I pressed my fingers against my lips to hide an embarrassed smile. Just as the ringtone was about to end, he gave a little bow, straightened up, and answered the call. ~ Wendy Higgins
I once had an Early Girl tomato at my friend Jay's house, and I thought that was the best thing I'd ever had. But then I visited friends in Senegal, and I ate sea urchin pulled fresh out of the sea. It tasted like the ocean. ~ Alice Waters
It was a spring without voices. On the mornings that had once throbbed with the dawn chorus of robins, catbirds, doves, jays, wrens, and scores of other bird voices there was now no sound; only silence lay over the fields and woods and marsh ...
Even the streams were now lifeless ... No witchcraft, no enemy action had silenced the rebirth of new life in this stricken world.
The people had done it themselves ... ~ Rachel Carson
Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird. ~ Harper Lee
Blue pointed to a chair beneath the fake Tiffany lamp. "Sit."
"I'd rather stand."
She made a neat rack of teeth at the Gray Man. "Sit."
The Gray Man sat. He glanced over his shoulder, back down the hall, then back to her. He had those bright, active eyes that Dobermans and blue jays had.
"No one's going to murder you here." She handed him a glass of water. "That's not poisoned."
"Thanks." He set it doen but didn't drink it. "My only intentions right now are to ask her to dinner. ~ Maggie Stiefvater
It's a cliche, but true, that writing is intensely solitary and at times really lonely. I sit in one room and talk to squirrels and blue jays all day. ~ Douglas Coupland
Perishable, It Said
Perishable, it said on the plastic container,
And below, in different ink,
The date to be used by, the last teaspoon consumed.
I found myself looking;
Now at the back of each hand,
Now inside the knees,
Now turning over each foot to look at the sole.
Then at the leaves of the young tomato plants,
Then at the arguing jays.
Under the wooden table and lifted stones, looking.
Coffee cups, olives, cheeses,
Hunger, sorrow, fears-
These too would certainly vanish, without knowing when.
How suddenly then
The strange happiness took me,
Like a man with strong hands and strong mouth,
Inside that hour with its perishing perfumes and clashings. ~ Jane Hirshfield
You may call a jay a bird. Well, so he is, in a measure
because he's got feathers on him, and don't belong to no church, perhaps;but otherwise he is just as much a human as you be. And I'll tell you for why. A jay's gifts and instincts, and feelings, and interests, cover the whole ground. A jay hasn't got any more principle than a Congressman. ~ Mark Twain
When you go hard your nays become yays. Yankee stadium with Jays and Kanyes. ~ Nicki Minaj
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
Over the fireplace was the portrait of his father's first wife, Robert's mother, Olive. Jay hated that painting. There she was, solemn and saintly, looking down her long nose at all who came after her. When she caught a fever and died suddenly at the age of twenty-nine his father had remarried, but he never forgot his first love. He treated Jay's mother, Alicia, like a mistress, a plaything with no status and no rights; and he made Jay feel almost like an illegitimate son. Robert was the firstborn, the heir, the special one. Jay sometimes wanted to ask whether it had been an immaculate conception and a virgin birth. ~ Ken Follett
Is everything okay, Vi?"
She swallowed, setting the rest down. "It's perfect…" She wrapped her blanket around her and went to Jay's chair. She leaned over him, her curls falling around hre shoulders like a dark curtain. "You're perfect." She smiled as she collapsed on top of him, kissing him.
He groaned and pulled her closer, making room for her as the kiss deepened.
She'd wanted to be in control but had too quickly lost the upper hand. Her breathing became uneven, and she pressed herself against him, squirming to get coser. The warmth between them spread through her like a fever, making her restless and impatient.
He stopped her then, before there was no going back, drawing his face away to create the most microscopic fissure between them. "You taste like tacos."
Violet gasped as she tried to catch her breath. "What?" She blinked, trying to gather her thoughts. "Really, Jay? Is that a complaint or something?"
He shook his head. "Of course not."
"Good. Because this is: I hate it when you stop like that." She pushed herself away from him and sat upright, crossing her arms in front of her.
"Come on, Violet, that's not what I meant." The dazed look in his eyes only made Violet feel slightly better. She was glad he was at least a little bit bothered. "It's just that I wanted to talk to you…you know, before we got distracted."
"God, I really am the guy," she glowered, but her shoulders slumped.
He hauled her toward him, dragging h ~ Kimberly Derting
As fate would have it, Jay's status appears
To be at an all-time high, perfect time to say goodbye
When I come back like Jordan, wearing the 4-5. ~ Jay-Z
Johanna, could you really hear him screaming?" "That was part of it," she says. "Like the jabber jays in the arena. Only it was real. And it didn't stop after an hour. Tick tock. ~ Suzanne Collins
If we are lucky, we get to live very long and healthy lives. If we are even luckier, we will be astonished by the sight of blue jays all the way through. ~ Sue Halpern
Jay's large body covered her. Oh God, the welcome weight of him. His mouth descended on hers, not asking, not seeking, but demanding she meet his need. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up into him as her tongue darted into his mouth, met his, and mated in a hot, heady tangle. ~ Kate Kelly
Twisting through the thorn-thick underbrush, scratched and exhausted, one turns suddenly to find an unexpected waterfall, not half a mile from the nearest road, a spot so hard to reach that no one comes a hiding place, a shrine for dragonflies and nesting jays, a sign that there is still one piece of property that won't be owned. ~ Dana Gioia
I really doubt my parents are going to let me stay the night in a remote cabin with a bunch of boys."
"Oh, please, Snow White, Mike's dad'll be there. He's actually kinda funny…you know, in a weird dad kind of way. Don't worry, your purity will remain intact. Scout's honor." She made some sort of gesture with her fingers that Violet assumed was supposed to be an oath, but since Chelsea had never actually been a Girl Scout, it ended up looking more like a peace sign. Or something. Violet maintained her dubious expression.
But Chelsea wasn't about to be discouraged, and she tried to be the voice of reason. "Come on, I think Jay's checking to see if he can get the time off work. The least you can do is ask your parents. If they say no, then no harm, no foul, right? If they say yes, then we'll have a kick-ass time. We'll go hiking in the snow and hang out in front of the fireplace in the evening. We'll sleep in sleeping bags and maybe even roast some marshmallows. It'll be like we're camping." She beamed a superfake smile at Violet and clasped her hands together like she was begging. "Do it for me. Ple-eease."
Jules came back with their milk shake. It was strawberry, and Chelsea flashed Violet an I-told-you-so grin.
Violet finished her tea, mulling over the idea of spending the weekend in a snowy cabin with Jay and Chelsea. Away from town. Away from whoever was leaving her dead animals and creepy notes.
It did sound fun, and Violet did love the snow. And ~ Kimberly Derting
Feeling inspired, I grabbed one of Jay's cookbooks from the kitchen shelf and flicked through until I found a recipe for something I recognised. Lasagna. That was just pasta, and pasta was easy, right? Trying not to be put off by the list of ingredients longer than my small intestine, I scanned the instructions. Chop onions ... I could do that. Brown mince ... trickier but manageable. Probably. Make a roux in the usual way ... I sighed, shut the book with a snap and went off to make dinner in my usual way: pierce film; bung in microwave; wait for bell. ~ J.L. Merrow
When she realized what was really happening, she almost couldn't believe her own eyes.
Jay was there, and he was standing over Grady, who was now lying in a crumpled heap at his feet. The look on Jay's face was as murderous as Violet had ever seen on anyone before, and he was clenching and unclenching his fist as he glared violently at Grady.
She looked down and saw that Grady was holding one hand over his mouth, and there was blood seeping from between his fingers. He held his other hand up in surrender. "Stop! Stop!"
Jay seemed to have a difficult time deciding. And then he leaned over, his fist balling up again, ready to strike, as he reached in and jerked Grady forward by the collar of his shirt. "Isn't that what Violet said to you, you jerk? Didn't she tell you to stop?"
Grady recoiled, curling up as tightly as he could and pulling his arm around his face. "Please! Don't - " But he didn't finish his sentence as his voice cracked vulnerably.
Violet was stunned. Silent and dazed, she could only stand there and watch, a million unanswered questions spinning in her head.
Where had Jay come from? How long had he been there?
And the one question she was afraid to ask: where was Lissie tonight?
She hated the conflicting feelings that plagued her at that moment. She was grateful that someone had saved her from Grady's unwanted advances, and even more grateful that that someone turned out to be Jay. At the same time she was appalled that h ~ Kimberly Derting
We finally made our way to the front of the line, where a young bouncer snapped an underage wristband on me and gave me an appraising look, eyes scanning my waist-length hair before raising the velvet rope. I rushed under it with Jay on my heels.
"For real, Anna, don't let me stand in the way of all these dudes tonight." Jay laughed behind me, raising his voice as we entered the already packed room, music thumping. I knew I should have put my hair up before we came, but Jay's sister, Jana had insisted on my keeping it down. I pulled my hair over my shoulder and wound it into a rope with my finger, looking around at the tightly packed crowd and wincing slightly at the noise and blasts of emotion.
"They only think they like me because they don't know me," I said.
Jay shook his head. "I hate when you say things like that."
"Like what? That I'm especially special?"
I was trying to make a joke, using the term us Southerners fondly called people who "weren't right" but anger burst gray from Jay's chest, surprising me, then fizzled away.
"Don't talk about yourself that way. You're just...shy."
I was weird and we both knew it. But I didn't like to upset him, and it felt ridiculous having a serious conversation at the top of our lungs.
Jay pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen as it vibrated in his hand. He grinned and handed it to me. Patti.
"Hello?" I stuck a finger in my other ear so I could hear.
"I'm just chec ~ Wendy Higgins
~A Comparison of Seasons~
Snow's unforgiving power causes some men to wish for spring's flower.
Some might hate snow's bitter chill, but you love it at your own will.
I see snow as something fun, but others might still long for summer's sun.
You and I hate summer's heat, but we still love the warmth of a fire on our feet.
Spring has jays whose virtuous songs are nice, but winter's lonely echoes are earth's frigged vice.
I enjoy spring's life, yet I still love winter's seemingly harsh sorrow; sometimes I can't get out of the house, so I worry about tomorrow.
I love the sight of snow and I treasure the sight of summer's river which swiftly flows.
Also, winter can be cold, but we can look forward to seeing spring's life and joy unfold. ~ Seth D.
Violet had carefully chosen some long-hanging, loose-fitting basketball shorts to wear over her swimsuit, in hopes of keeping her injuries at least partially hidden. But it didn't take long before one . . . and then two . . . and then at least twenty of her friends had noticed her bandages peeking out from beneath the swishing fabric, and she was forced to recount her morning accident.
Jay loved hearing her tell the story, and every time he heard her talking about it, he would come over so that he could interject, and of course embellish, his role in the events. In his version, he was her champion, practically carrying her from the woods and performing near-miraculous medical feats to save her legs from complete amputation. Violet, and annoyingly every other girl within earshot, couldn't help but giggle while he jokingly sang his own praises.
Violet happened to walk up just in time to hear Jay recounting his version once more to a group of eager admirers.
"Hero? I wouldn't say hero . . ." he quipped.
Violet rolled her eyes, turning to Grady Spencer, a friend of theirs from school. "Can you believe him?"
Grady gave her a concerned look. "Seriously, are you okay, Violet? It sounds like it was pretty bad."
Violet was embarrassed that Jay's exaggerations were actually dredging up real sympathy from others. "It's fine," she assured him, and when Grady didn't look convinced, she added, "Really, I just tripped."
She reached out and shoved Jay. "Wil ~ Kimberly Derting
Jay's downstairs waiting."
With her father on one side, and the handrail on the other, Violet descended the stairs as if she were floating. Jay stood at the bottom, watching her, frozen in place like a statue.
His black suit looked as if it had been tailored just for him. His jacket fell across his strong shoulders in a perfect line, tapering at his narrow waist. The crisp white linen shirt beneath stood out in contrast against the dark, finely woven wool. He smiled appreciatively as he watched her approach, and Violet felt her breath catch in her throat at the striking image of flawlessness that he presented.
"You...are so beautiful," he whispered fervently as he strode toward her, taking her dad's place at her arm.
She smiled sheepishly up at him. "So are you."
Her mom insisted on taking no fewer than a hundred pictures of the two of them, both alone and together, until Violet felt like her eyes had been permanently damaged by the blinding flash. Finally her father called off her mom, dragging her away into the kitchen so that Violet and Jay could have a moment alone together.
"I meant it," he said. "You look amazing."
She shook her head, not sure what to say, a little embarrassed by the compliment.
"I got you something," he said to her as he reached inside his jacket. "I hope you don't mind, it's not a corsage."
Violet couldn't have cared less about having flowers to pin on her dress, but she was curious about what he had brou ~ Kimberly Derting
He's a funny one," said Ida. "Here's how he sound." She pursed her lips and, expertly, imitated the red-winged blackbird's call: not the liquid piping of the wood thrush, which dipped down into the dry tchh tchh tchh of the cricket's birr and up again in delerious, sobbing trills; not the clear, three-note whistle of the chickadee or even the blue jay's rough cry, which was like a rusty gate creaking. This was an abrupt, whirring, unfamiliar cry, a scream of warning -congeree!- which choked itself off on a subdued, fluting note. ~ Donna Tartt
The flowers glowed in their many colors. Lakes and rivers shimmered emerald in the sunlight, and Jay's heart pounded with joy. ~ Ilchi Lee
In other words: the slime mold likes the small, unlit pile of oats about as much as it likes the big, brightly lit one. But if you introduce a really small unlit pile of oats, the small dark pile looks better by comparison; so much so that the slime mold decides to choose it over the big bright pile almost all the time.
This phenomenon is called the "asymmetric domination effect," and slime molds are not the only creatures subject to it. Biologists have found jays, honeybees, and hummingbirds acting in the same seemingly irrational way. ~ Jordan Ellenberg