Lark Quotes

In 1849 he had forty-six chieftains sign a treaty in which they declared themselves subjects of the queen. The Crown has had right of preemption for land sales ever since. ~ Sarah Lark

Lark: "You shouldn't yell at her."
Frostpine: "Of course I should. Gods bless us all, Lark, but our Water dedicates would try the patience of a stone."
- Dedicates Lark and Frostpine when the latter found out that the Water Temple had run out of warded boxes ~ Tamora Pierce

Fourth Meditation"

1

I was always one for being alone,
Seeking in my own way, eternal purpose;
At the edge of the field waiting for the pure moment;
Standing, silent, on sandy beaches or walking along green embankments;
Knowing the sinuousness of small waters:
As a chip or shell, floating lazily with a slow current...

Was it yesterday I stretched out the thin bones of my innocence?
O the songs we hide, singing only to ourselves!
Once I could touch my shadow, and be happy;
In the white kingdoms, I was light as a seed,
Drifting with the blossoms,
A pensive petal.

But a time comes when the vague life of the mouth no longer suffices;
The dead make more impossible demands from their silence;
The soul stands, lonely in its choice,
Waiting, itself a slow thing,
In the changing body.

The river moves, wrinkled by midges,
A light wind stirs in the pine needles.
The shape of a lark rises from a stone;
But there is no song. ~ Theodore Roethke

She was my little lark. The name had entered my mind the moment I laid eyes on her, ~ Amy Harmon

There was a jolly miller once, Lived on the River Dee; He worked and sang, from morn to night; No lark so blithe as he. And this the burden of his song, Forever used to be, I care for nobody, not I, If no one cares for me. ~ Isaac Bickerstaffe

- I've missed your company these long days. -
What are you even doing here? You stayed away so long, I thought you weren't coming.
- You missed me, and now are piqued. Know that I was obtaining something that guarantees my success with you. -
More coercion?
- A gift for you. That's why I've allowed the mortal leeway and refrained from a slaying. Because you're about to be mine. -
His confidence unsettled me. Good to know you were worried about your wife alone out on the road. You let me make the journey by myself. And face the twins! Though you knew how much they would hate me.
- I felt confident that you and six other Arcana, one of the largest alliances yet, could take out a pair of insignificant carnates. To guard you on your way, I bade Lark to dispatch the wolf. - ~ Kresley Cole

...For can you think how it would be, to never, never hear a meadow lark sing again...? ~ Bess Streeter Aldrich

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace, Where never the lark, nor even eagle flew- And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God. ~ Dizzy Gillespie

When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound. ~ Lewis Carroll

He's rigged a tiny cassette player with a small set of foam earphones to listen to demo tapes and rough mixes. Occasionally he'll hand the device to Mindy, wanting her opinion, and each time, the experience of music pouring directly against her eardrums - hers alone - is a shock that makes her eyes well up; the privacy of it, the way it transforms her surroundings into a golden montage, as if she were looking back on this lark in Africa with Lou from some distant future. ~ Jennifer Egan

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure. ~ Dante Alighieri

Getting up once in the dark to go adventuring is a lark. Twice in two days smacks of masochism. ~ Diana Gabaldon

The embrace of present and past time, in which English antiquarianism becomes a form of alchemy, engenders a strange timelessness. It is as if the little bird which flew through the Anglo-Saxon banqueting hall, in Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum, gained the outer air and became the lark ascending in Vaughan Williams's orchestral setting. The unbroken chain is that of English music itself. ~ Peter Ackroyd

Maddy's going to pop soon," Cooper said, finishing his beer and getting ready to head out. "Tucker is attached to her. It's pretty fucking adorable. The guy about wets his pants every time she makes any noise that might be labor pain."
"You'll be an uncle soon."
"I'm already an uncle," Cooper mumbled, sliding on his jacket. "I just can't hold the kid yet."
"You and Farah still planning on trying?"
"No planning. We're just trying now. She's off the pill. Whenever it happens, it'll be cool. Farah worries she'll suck at being a mom. Can you believe that shit?" Cooper asked as his dark eyes warmed at the thought of his wife. "The way she takes care of Sawyer and me and everyone else and she thinks she'll be a bad mom. These girls with their shit families get all fucked up in the head and no logic is going to fix it. They just need to face their fears and see how amazing they are when their idiot parents aren't around to fuck things up."
"Should I fix things for Lark?"
"I don't know. If it was me, I'd go smack her stupid brother and father around. I don't know if that'd be a good idea though. Those fucks aren't low life drifters like Farah's parents. That Larry asshole is a respectable member of the community. If you want to smack him around, you'll need to do it in a more subtle way. Of course, if he ever fucks with you, we can just remind Mister Upstanding how his kind doesn't run Ellsberg. It's us dirty biker types who keep his house from bur ~ Bijou Hunter

Home"

It would take forever to get there
but I would know it anywhere:

My white horse grazing in my blossomy field.
Its soft nostrils. The petals
falling from the trees into the stream.

The festival would be about to begin
in the dusky village in the distance. The doe
frozen at the edge of the grove:

She leaps. She vanishes. My face -
She has taken it. And my name -

(Although the plaintive lark in the tall
grass continues to say and to say it.)

Yes. This is the place.
Where my shining treasure has been waiting.
Where my shadow washes itself in my fountain.

A few graves among the roses. Some moss
on those. An ancient

bell in a steeple down the road
making no sound at all
as the monk pulls and pulls on the rope. ~ Laura Kasischke

Say you're beautiful," I whispered, stroking her.
"I'm beautiful."
"Good," I murmured, kissing her jaw then moving south. "Say it again. ~ Bijou Hunter

What a lark! What a plunge! ~ Virginia Woolf

Just because I cut a lark with that stiff-rumped Exciseman you seem to think I'm as good as rope-ripe! ~ Georgette Heyer

We sat at long tables side by side in a big

dusty room where we laughed and carried

on until they told us to pipe down and paint.

The running joke was how we glowed,

the handkerchiefs we sneezed into lighting

up our purses when we opened them at night,

our lips and nails, painted for our boyfriends

as a lark, simmering white as ash in a dark room.

"Would you die for science?" the reporter asked us,

Edna and me, the main ones in the papers.

Science? We mixed up glue, water and radium

powder into a glowing greenish white paint

and painted watch dials with a little

brush, one number after another, taking

one dial after another, all day long,

from the racks sitting next to our chairs.

After a few strokes, the brush lost its shape,

and our bosses told us to point it with

our lips. Was that science?

I quit the watch factory to work in a bank

and thought I'd gotten class, more money,

a better life, until I lost a tooth in back

and two in front and my jaw filled up with sores.

We sued: Edna, Katherine, Quinta, Larice and me,

but when we got to court, not one of us

could raise our arms to take the oath.

My teeth were gone by then. "Pretty Grace

Fryer," they called me in the papers.

~ Eleanor Swanson

I shall eat anyone who tries to steal my singing, springing lark! ~ Jacob Grimm

I'll take another stab at talking to her."
"If you can't find a way, get Cooper to do it. You know how he loves controlling things. I'm sure he'll want to help."
"True, but once he starts meddling, he won't stop. I don't need him giving me pointers for the rest of my relationship with Lark."
"Lark," my mother said, testing out the name. "She had such a sweet smile. I could look at that smile for the rest of my life. Yes, go kick fate in the balls and get me a daughter."
"You have a daughter."
"A new one, I meant. Preferably one who likes to visit more than Anna."
Grinning at the thought of my alpha chick sister, I finished my juice and stood up. "I'll focus on a first date then worry about getting you a more compliant daughter. ~ Bijou Hunter

Aubade THE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest, And climbing shakes his dewy wings. He takes this window for the East, And to implore your light he sings- Awake, awake! the morn will never rise Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the sun his season takes, But still the lover wonders what they are Who look for day before his mistress wakes. Awake, awake! break thro' your veils of lawn! Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn! ~ William Davenant

It is one of the perils of our so-called civilized age that we do not yet acknowledge enough, or cherish enough, this connection between soul and landscape - between our own best possibilities, and the view from our own windows. We need the world as much as it needs us, and we need it in privacy, intimacy, and surety. We need the field from which the lark rises - bird that is more than itself, that is the voice of the universe: vigorous, godly job. Without the physical world such hope it: hacked off. Is: dried up. Without wilderness no fish could leap and flash, no deer could bound soft as eternal waters over the field; no bird could open its wings and become buoyant, adventurous, valorous beyond even the plan of nature. Nor could we. ~ Mary Oliver

I vaguely remember having a waist," Lark said, waddling into the room. "I could see my feet too. They weren't great feet, but I liked looking at them."
"You'll see them soon then you won't appreciate it. All the stuff that bothers you now will become a faint memory once you have the babies."
"How do you know?" she said, teasing me. "You read that in a book? I get enough know-it-all crap from Raven who watched a TV show and is therefore an expert."
I brought her a glass of low fat milk and English muffins with low fat cream. Lark frowned at the food then smiled up at me. "If I sound bitchy, blame the hormones. You didn't know me before I was preggers, but I was a saint."
Grinning, I handed her the remote and placed a pillow under her feet. ~ Bijou Hunter

Now that I know I'm an Upholder, an Abstainer, a Marathoner, a Finisher, and a Lark, and have spent a lot of time thinking about what is, and isn't, important to me, I'm much better able to shape my habits. ~ Gretchen Rubin

You pakeha," she murmured, "all your streets must be straight and even. You tear them from the earth without hearing its groans. And yet the winding, rocky ways are the shorter ones if you take them in peace. ~ Sarah Lark

Damn, Lark, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
She looked at him, blinking her owlish eyes. "You think I'm crying because of you?"
"I was a bastard."
"Well, yeah, but you're my brother. I'm used to it. ~ Maisey Yates

I walk where once the grass was green And mourn the lark that sings no more What bird could sing whose eyes have seen Broken blossoms on the field of war? ~ Tom Springfield

He didn't know if that was really true or not, but he discovered something which was tremendously liberating: he didn't care. He was very tired of thinking and thinking and still not knowing. He was also tired of being frightened, like a man who has entered a cave on a lark and now begins to suspect he is lost. Stop thinking about it, then. That's the solution. ~ Stephen King

To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise. ~ John Milton

You are not a gentle flower who spends its whole life in a greenhouse. You are a wildfire, Lark. A wildfire. ~ Ilona Andrews

No one asks to live in squalor, Tris. It is just that squalor is all that is left to them by those who have money. ~ Tamora Pierce

Be as the birds" He nodded to his pigeon crates. "Finding grace in how God made you, one with this world and the next. The pigeon does not pine to be a lark, or a cat, or a fish. ~ Umberto Tosi

Lark: You got a phone??? I love the selfie.
Zach: I did. I've joined the 21st Century.
Lark: Does this mean you'll send me a dick pic later?
Zach: Let's not get carried away. ~ Sarina Bowen

She wondered if he thought this was all a lark, a game. She'd been to Disney World once. There the fairies were cute and sweet and didn't attempt to kill the visitors. Living here wasn't anything like the human faerie fairs or theme parks. ~ Terry Spear

The horse and the cow, the rabbit and the cat, the deer and the hare, the pheasant and the lark, please us better as friends than as meat. ~ Elisee Reclus

I have no worries myself, nor do I exude or possess within my living stratus any reason why someone should worry [on] my behalf. ~ Lark Voorhies

Isobel." He swept down to his knees and kissed my hand, gazing up at me in devotion. "I love you more than the stars in the sky. I love you more than Lark loves dresses. ~ Margaret Rogerson

disapprovingly. The two of them resumed their evenings together in the salon, and William renewed his consumption of whiskey. "Can't we get rid of that Miss Witherspoon?" James groaned as he genteelly held the door to their apartments open for Gwyneira. Heather had been playing Schubert songs downstairs ~ Sarah Lark

Mrs. Kronborg was a strange woman. That word "talent", which no one else in Moonstone, not even Dr. Archie, would have understood, she comprehended perfectly. To any other woman there, it would have meant that a child must have her hair curled every day and must play in public. Mrs. Kronborg knew it meant that Thea must practice four hours a day. A child with talent must be kept at the piano, just as a child with measles must be kept under the blankets. ~ Willa Cather

The owl goes not into the nest of the lark. ~ Victor Hugo

Her name was Lark and she was my muse. ~ Bijou Hunter

What a lark! What a plunge! For so it had always seemed to her, when, with a little squeak of the hinges, which she could hear now, she had burst open the French windows and plunged at Bourton into the open air. How fresh, how calm, stiller than this of course, the air was in the early morning; like the flap of a wave; the kiss of a wave; chill and sharp and yet (for a girl of eighteen as she then was) solemn, feeling as she did, standing there at the open window, that something awful was about to happen; looking at the flowers, at the trees with the smoke winding off them and the rooks rising, falling; standing and looking until Peter Walsh said, "Musing among the vegetables?" - was that it? - "I prefer men to cauliflowers" - was that it? He must have said it at breakfast one morning when she had gone out on to the terrace - Peter Walsh. He would be back from India one of these days, June or July, she forgot which, for his letters were awfully dull; it was his sayings one remembered; his eyes, his pocket-knife, his smile, his grumpiness and, when millions of things had utterly vanished - how strange it was! - a few sayings like this about cabbages. ~ Virginia Woolf

To a Young Poet Time cannot break the bird's wing from the bird. Bird and wing together Go down, one feather. No thing that ever flew, Not the lark, not you, Can die as others do. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Raising people is not some lark. It's serious work with serious repercussions. It's air-traffic control. You can't step out for a minute; you can barely pause to scratch your ankle. ~ Kelly Corrigan

Merrily, merrily goes the bark On a breeze from the northward free, So shoots through the morning sky the lark, Or the swan through the summer sea. ~ Walter Scott

We rise with the lark and go to bed with the lamb. ~ Nicholas Breton

Lark frowned. "I thought she was associated with fate. Her Arcana name's Our Lady of Fate."

"As she desired it to be," he said. "But it's a very liberal translation."

I'd thought these Arcana things were set in stone. Now the goalposts were moving.

He downed that shot, then poured another. "She appears to control fate, but she doesn't have any influence over what happens to her. Her power is passive. She doesn't read the future and consciously affect it - not like the Fool does." Aric's gaze grew distant. "Ages ago, Fortune was known more accurately as Lady Luck. The Fool was known as the Hand of Fate. She despised him for that and envied his power. ~ Kresley Cole

I was being sincere. Hold on to it as long as you can, Lark. Life knocks the stuffing out of you
eventually. Look at me. Look at Cade. As long as things are simple, keep them that way. As long as
unrequited liking is the least of your worries ... it's not so bad."
"It feels bad."
"I know. Take comfort in the fact that that actually makes you pretty normal."
"Not comforted."
He laughed. "That's normal too."
"Shut up."
"Love you too." He didn't say it often enough. But it had never been easy for him to say.
That earned him a smile. "I do. Love you, you know. Thanks for trying. And thanks for ... being
willing to kill someone for me."
"It's what brothers are for. 'Night ~ Maisey Yates

NIGHT OF LOVE
The moon has left the sky, love,
The stars are hiding now,
And frowning on the world, love,
Night bares her sable brow.
The snow is on the ground, love,
And cold and keen the air is.
I 'm singing here to you, love;
You 're dreaming there in Paris.

But this is Nature's law, love,
Though just it may not seem,
That men should wake to sing, love,
While maidens sleep and dream.
Them care may not molest, love,

Nor stir them from their slumbers,
Though midnight find the swain, love,
Still halting o'er his numbers.
I watch the rosy dawn, love,
Come stealing up the east,
While all things round rejoice, love,
That Night her reign has ceased.
The lark will soon be heard, love,
And on his way be winging;
When Nature's poets wake, love,
Why should a man be singing? ~ Paul Laurence Dunbar

Heine commenting on the music of Louis Hector Berlioz: He is an immense nightingale, a lark as great as an eagle ... The music causes me to dream of fabulous empires, filled with fabulous sins. ~ Hector Berlioz

I'm very crafty! One time I made a television set out of a cardboard box - Everybody thought it was a lark! This was the beginning of a love affair with the arts. ~ Emma Watson

What: is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful? ~ William Shakespeare

When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.
Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my coat and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark.
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.
Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.
(A Study Of Reading Habits) ~ Philip Larkin

This was a bizarre moment: this crossing-over from a hypothetical plan to a concrete caper, giving in to what may turn out to be an utterly outlandish idea, possibly letting go of some important tether to sanity. Deciding yes: I will do this. But not deciding it 100 percent, because that wold be admitting too much to herself, about herself, that she didn't want to admit. But deciding it 95 percent, enough to take the possibly outlandish action, but not enough to believe beyond a reasonable doubt that this wasn't just a goof, a lark, but an actual non-insane plan. ~ Chris Pavone

When you walk through the storm, hold your head high And don't be afraid of the dark! At the end of the storm is a golden sky And the sweet song of the lark. Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed & blown Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart And you'll never walk alone! ~ Douglas Adams

What they teach in school isn't enough," Reggie said. "Birth control is important but what about the rest of it?" "The rest?" Dellina asked before she could stop herself. "You mean - " "Pleasure." Lark smiled at her husband. "Remember when I taught the girls to masturbate?" He nodded. "It was a beautiful time." Sam flinched. ~ Susan Mallery

You'll Never Walk Alone

When you walk through a storm hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone.

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone. ~ Elvis Presley

Look at it!" George's voice shuddered with barely contained awe. "Look at it! Don't you want to experience it? Don't you want to be brave? You are not a gentle flower who spends its whole life in a greenhouse. You are a wildfire, Lark. A wildfire."
A sun burst on the images, its violent fury drowning the cosmos.
"Dare to take that step and I will show you wonders beyond your imagination. I will give you a chance to make a difference. Come with me." George offered his hand to her. "Live. Join me or not, but live, gods damn you, because I cannot stand the thought of you slowly aging here like some dusty fossil under glass. Take my hand and bring your sword. The universe is waiting. ~ Ilona Andrews

My biggest accomplishment was playing 'Lark' on the daytime drama Port Charles because it was the most regular acting job I have had, and I had to step in and fill someone else's shoes. ~ Amy Weber

She trekked back across the meadow and down through the trees in possession of the oldest secret known to man. She sat on the mooring stone and surrendered immediately to the down of night. She hadn't slept long before she suddenly jolted awake. Thought she had heard the sweet call of a lark ascending. Unaware that it was actually the sound of her soul awakening. ~ Sarah Winman

Despite the chaos, our family had a solid routine. Weekends were spent at the cabin where we enjoyed the quiet. A few times a week, Raven and Lark trained at Big Bob's. My kids and I cawed for mommy during games. Once a week, we dropped by Cooper's new house to add to his chaos.
At least twice a week, we lived at the bowling alley. All the kids loved the game and River was quite talented like his pop. Our youngest Nevaeh even enjoyed bowling before she was born. Every time we were at the alley, the baby would kick the hell out of Raven. My woman responded by eating nachos. While I never understood the plan behind dosing our unborn kid with cheese, who was I to question her tactics? ~ Bijou Hunter

he knew, but Gwyneira always drove him to desperation. "Of course I didn't offer him anything. I appealed to his reason and sense of honor. However, these qualities don't seem to hold much weight for him." Terence turned away, visibly ashamed. ~ Sarah Lark

The child whispered, "God, speak to me"
And a meadow lark sang.
The child did not hear.

So the child yelled, "God, speak to me!"
And the thunder rolled across the sky
But the child did not listen.

The child looked around and said,
"God, let me see you" and a star shone brightly
But the child did not notice.

And the child shouted,
"God show me a miracle!"
And a life was born but the child did not know.

So the child cried out in despair,
"Touch me God, and let me know you are here!"
Whereupon God reached down
And touched the child.

But the child brushed the butterfly away
And walked away unknowingly. ~ Ravindra Kumar Karnani

From the day I met her at the wedding rehearsal, I couldn't stop thinking of her beautiful face. I was forever drawing her, sketching her, and even tattooing her. How many people in Ellsberg were walking around with tattoos of Lark's face? Whenever a client didn't bring a specific image in and a woman's face was involved, I used Lark's. Hell, I hadn't even noticed this fact until two happy clients showed off their tattoos and I realized the pinup girl and fairy princess had the same face. ~ Bijou Hunter

The little and the great are joined in one By God's great force. The wondrous golden sun Is linked unto the glow-worm's tiny spark; The eagle soars to heaven in his flight; And in those realms of space, all bathed in light, Soar none except the eagle and the lark. ~ Emma Lazarus

It still hurt her to see their poems before her, printed in the curving Yeged-dai script, using Yegedin forms and the images so beloved of the Yegedin: the single pebble, the grasshopper at twilight, the song of a heartbroken lark sitting in a bent tree. ~ Yoon Ha Lee

Flamingo necks, peacock brains, pike livers, lark tongues, sow's udders, elephant trunks and ears extravagantly frilled with parsley. ~ Kate Quinn

Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of a marriage conducted with economy
In the Twentieth Century Anno Donomy.
We'll live in a dear little walk-up flat
With practically room to swing a cat
And a potted cactus to give it hauteur
And a bathtub equipped with dark brown water.
We'll eat, without undue discouragement,
Foods low in cost but high in nouragement
And quaff with pleasure, while chatting wittily,
The peculiar wine of Little Italy.
We'll remind each other it's smart to be thrifty
And buy our clothes for something-fifty.
We'll bus for miles on holidays
For seas at depressing matinees,
And every Sunday we'll have a lark
And take a walk in Central Park.
And one of these days not too remote
You'll probably up and cut my throat. ~ Ogden Nash

You glow, Lark." His hand climbed back up again and swept over my unbound hair. I swallowed, suddenly close to tears. Then why does no one see me? "I see you," he said. ~ Amy Harmon

I can't believe you can create such beauty."
"I can't believe I'm finally looking at my beauty. You can't see it, Lark. I know you can't. Maybe it's a girl thing or your shitty family or you do see it and are just fishing for compliments, but you are too beautiful to get right on paper. No matter how much I try," I said, cupping her face, "I can't make my art look nearly as perfect as you."
"Shit," she whispered. "Did you just think that up because it was fucking brilliant?"
Before I could answer, little Lark stepped up as far as she could on her tippy toes, pulled me down to her, and kissed me hard and deep. The girl claimed my breath like she'd already claimed my heart. No way was I imagining all of her wonderful qualities. I wasn't that damn creative. ~ Bijou Hunter

All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns. ~ Oscar Wilde

You not know how to ~ Sarah Lark

Or maybe they were just doing it for fun. A lark. Their religion is tolerant of extreme forms of recreation. Boys will be boys, after all, and sociopathic boys will be sociopathic. ~ Dean Koontz

Yours will be the wings of an eagle's flight, the soaring of a lark, sunward, heavenward, Godward! But you must take time to be holy - in meditation, in prayer, and especially in the use of the Bible. ~ F.B. Meyer

I was probably the first kid in my high school to go to Yale. I applied almost as a lark. Then, when I got there, I was the dumbest person in your class. ~ Maya Lin

Do you know one reason my parents have stayed married so long?" I asked and Lark shook her head. "They're a team. If one has a problem, they both have a problem. No secrets, no holding back. They face everything together. ~ Bijou Hunter

Lark of memory
it is your blood that is flowing
and not mine
Lark of memory
I have tightened my fist
Lark of memory
dead bird of mist
you should not have come
to eat from my hand
the grains of oblivion. ~ Jacques Prevert

Suicide in the trenches:
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
* * * * *
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go. ~ Siegfried Sassoon

Any chick who carried around a bird of prey with a little helmet was cool in my book. Oh, man, I really hoped she didn't intend to kill us all. ~ Kresley Cole

I sing like a lark. ~ Layne Staley

Somewhere a bird sang, its chant hanging plaintive and melancholy in the still air ... I think it's a sort of lark or something. Our tradition has it that they sing with the voices of lost lovers. If the stars are smiling on them, you will hear its mate call back in a moment. ~ Jane Johnson

I have had more than half a century of such happiness. A great deal of worry and sorrow, too, but never a worry or a sorrow that was not offset by a purple iris, a lark, a bluebird, or a dewy morning glory. ~ Mary McLeod Bethune

The ragged cat drags its belly across where the grass is short and the stones are sharp, under the lilacs that have no flowers. The flower smell is gone and the white falls off the trees. Seeds, Lark says, little seeds with parachutes to fly them, Termite, all in your hair, and she runs her fingers through his hair, saying how long and how pretty. He wants the grass long and strong, sounding whispers when it moves, but the mower cuts it. The mower cuts and cuts like a yowling knife. He hears the mower cutting and smells the grass pouring out all over the ground, the green stain so sharp and wet it spills and spills. The mower cuts everything away and Nick Tucci follows the mower, cutting and cutting while the orange cat growls low to move its soft parts across the chipped sharp stones. Deep under the lilacs where no one sees, the orange cat waits for the roar to stop. ~ Jayne Anne Phillips

Love is like jumping off a cliff, even when you know you're acrophobic. ~ Lark Books

And suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Oh, it's all been such a lark. ~ Ian Fleming

You are the mountain, you are the rock
You are the cord and you're the spark
You are the eagle, you are the lark
You are the world and you're remarkable
You're the ocean eating the shore
You are the calm inside the storm
You're every emotion, you can endure
You are the world and the world is yours.
((The World as I See It)) ~ Jason Mraz

There are some memories you can only live with if you don't share them with anyone. ~ Sarah Lark

It is an effort to descend down the hand-holds of memory to the plain beneath, to recall the lost future, the dusk hovering above the sunken cities, the dim western world of fallen light and broken skies. My life is here, where soon the larks will sing again, and there is a hawk above. One wishes only to go forward, deeper into the summer land, journeying from lark-song to lark-song, passing through the dark realm of the owls, the fox-holdings, the badger-shires, out into the brilliant winter dominion, the sea-bleak world of the hawks. ~ J.A. Baker

HERMIA
God speed fair Helena! whither away?

HELENA
Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!
Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air
More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
Sickness is catching: O, were favour so,
Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art
You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.

HERMIA
I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.

HELENA
O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

HERMIA
I give him curses, yet he gives me love.

HELENA
O that my prayers could such affection move!

HERMIA
The more I hate, the more he follows me.

HELENA
The more I love, the more he hateth me.

HERMIA
His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.

HELENA
None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine! ~ William Shakespeare

When I was a child and the snow fell, my mother always rushed to the kitchen and made snow ice cream and divinity fudge-egg whites, sugar and pecans, mostly. It was a lark then and I always associate divinity fudge with snowstorms. ~ Eudora Welty

Heaven above was blue, and earth beneath was green; the river glistened like a path of diamonds in the sun; the birds poured forth their songs from the shady trees; the lark soared high above the waving corn; and the deep buzz of insects filled the air. ~ Charles Dickens

Oh well, no rain, no grass. ~ Sarah Lark

Be well, Lark. Look kindly at yourself. That's all I ask of you. ~ Sarina Bowen

I am a mammal, a dog, and a bichon frise--in that order. ~ Lark Benobi

I can't believe this. You go ashore for two hours of trade, and somehow you've exchanged an experienced sailor for a governess."
"Well, and goats. I did buy a few goats-the boatman will have them out presently."
"Damn it, don't try to change the subject. Crew and passengers are supposed to be my responsibility. Am I captain of this ship or not?"
"Yes, Joss, you're the captain. But I'm the investor. I don't want Bains near my cargo, and I'd like at least one paying passenger on this voyage, if I can get one. I didn't have that steerage compartment converted to cabins for a lark, you realize."
"If you think I'll believe your interest in that girl lies solely in her six pound sterling…"
Gray shrugged. "Since you mention it, I quite admired her brass as well."
"You know damn well what I mean. A young lady, unescorted…" He looked askance at Gray. "It's asking for trouble."
"Asking for trouble?" Gray echoed, hoping to lighten the conversation. "Since when does the Aphrodite need to go asking for trouble? We've stowed more trouble than cargo on this ship." He leaned back, propping both elbows on the ship's rail. "And as trouble goes, Miss Turner's variety looks a damn sight better than most alternatives. Perhaps you could do with a bit of trouble yourself. ~ Tessa Dare

But you the pathways of the sky Found first, and tasted heavenly springs, Unfettered as the lark that sings, And knew strange raptures, - though we sigh, "Poor Iccarus!" ~ Florence Earle Coates

The young gentlemen who came calling seemed especially puzzling. They sat in their velvet shirts and their leather boots, nibbling burnt cakes and praising Diamond's mind, and all the while their eyes said other things. Now, their eyes said. Now. Then: Patience, patience. 'You are flowers,' their mouths said, 'You are jewels, you are golden dreams.' Their eyes said: I eat flowers, I burn with dreams, I have a tower without a door in my heart, and I will keep you there ... ~ Patricia A. McKillip

As I once told your mother, I do not accept trying. Trying is not good enough. Change. You can. ~ Jane Lark