Tawny Owl Quotes

The bounty hunter looked at him long and hard. Until Tawny Owl's smirk finally vanished. 'Indeed,' he said. 'Everyone has to make a living. Some earn money doing what they've learned. Others do what they have to. But not many craftsmen have been as lucky in life as I am: they pay me for a trade I truly and honestly enjoy. Not even whores can say that. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At ~ J.K. Rowling

Aaron sketched up a tattoo design for me. We'll start on it soon, but he thinks I can't handle all the pain in one sitting, so he's breaking it into parts."
"What's the tattoo of and where will it be?" he asked, glancing over my breasts.
"A fallen angel and it won't be on my boobs, Judd."
Laughing at my tone, he didn't seem to hear the first part. I saw when the words registered. "Why fallen?" he asked, his gaze harder now.
Holding his gaze, I refused to back down. "You know."
"Fuck you for thinking that makes you fallen."
"Fuck you for thinking you know what I am."
Judd suddenly laughed. "What?"
Grudgingly, I smiled. "Whatever. You're irritating me."
"Where's the tat going to be? Something around your heart shaped ass maybe?"
"Heart shaped?"
Judd wiggled his eyebrows at me. "I love that damn ass of yours. Shit, this morning when you walked over to get your clothes, I about jizzed myself."
"Yummy. Best breakfast conversation ever. ~ Bijou Hunter

Time has us. It holds us in it's mouth like an owl holds a field mouse. We shiver, we struggle for release, and then it pecks out our eyes and intestines for sustenance and we die the death of field mice. ~ Tommy Orange

We must remember that in the end nature does not belong to us, we belong to it. ~ Grey Owl

Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –"
"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."
"Great idea though, thanks, Mum. ~ J.K. Rowling

I'm trained as an architect; writing is like architecture. In buildings, there are design motifs that occur again and again, that repeat
patterns, curves. These motifs help us feel comfortable in a physical space. And the same works in writing, I've found. For me, the way words, punctuation and paragraphs fall on the page is important as well
the graphic design of the language. That was why the words and thoughts of Estha and Rahel, the twins, were so playful on the page ... I was being creative with their design. Words were broken apart, and then sometimes fused together. "Later" became "Lay. Ter." "An owl" became "A Nowl." "Sour metal smell" became "sourmetal smell."
Repetition I love, and used because it made me feel safe. Repeated words and phrases have a rocking feeling, like a lullaby. They help take away the shock of the plot
death, lives destroyed or the horror of the settings
a crazy, chaotic, emotional house, the sinister movie theater. ~ Arundhati Roy

A little downy girl still wearing poppies
still eating popcorn in the colored gloam
where tawny Indians took paid croppers
because you stole her
from her wax-browed and dignified protector
spitting into his heavy-lidded eye
ripping his flavid toga and at dawn
leaving the hog to roll upon his new discomfort
the awfulness of love and violets
remorse despair while you
took a dull doll to pieces
and threw its head away
because of all you did
because of all I did not
you have to die ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. ~ J.K. Rowling

Tara...seemed to digest gossip as voraciously as an owl, regurgitating it in the form of little pellets of dubious information. ~ Erin Saldin

Sam was creative and dedicated, but his wasn't the plodding bright-and-early work ethic of the morning person, like mine. It was the crazy creative burst of the night owl, long dark hours of despair before dawn. ~ Jennifer Echols

I linger near Galileo's telescopes, then round the corner and stand transfixed: I did not expect this- a dark, cool room full of globes of the night sky from the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries. Globo celeste, they are called in Italian: 'celestial globe,' maps of the night sky… I imagine him making another globo celeste, this one smaller, yet still exquisitely painted, still breathtaking in detail. It's a map of the earth still flowing with creation, one you can spin and when you stop it with your finger, there is some tiny detail…some miraculous beauty, some wonderful example from each location at night. The white flower of a night blooming saguaro cactus, the feathers from a great-horned owl, the crunched, smiling face of a particular bat- here, I'm spinning it, I stop it at in the north, where I want there to be something still- he's painted the black-and-white feathers of a loon…or a globe of night sounds, so that by touching your location you hear the night there- the cricket song, the ocean surf, the frog mating calls. ~ Paul Bogard

You're going to stop distracting me while I drive," he said and there was no humor in his voice. "Do you understand?"
"Jeans tight?" I asked, daring him.
Judd narrowed his eyes at me in a rather scary way. Instead of shirking away from him, I remembered how it was his job to get me to Ellsberg safely. Narrowing my eyes, I glared right back at him. We held those angry gazes for a few minutes then he grinned.
"Yes," he said, answering my question as he stared at the now moving traffic. "So shut up, will ya? ~ Bijou Hunter

What do you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?" Crooks hanks purred. "That's good enough for me," said Ron happily. "He's mine. ~ J.K. Rowling

Did Soren agree to be part of a system to protect Skench and Spoorn and the others?" Barren, the other Snowy monarch, asked in her soft voice.
He did indeed, madam," Ezylryb replied. "Soren is a much-misunderstood owl these days. Believe me, Soren will do whatever is required in this invasion. ~ Kathryn Lasky

There is a romance about all those who are abroad in the black hours. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

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

It's the little details I love. How to fletch your arrows with owl feathers, because owls fly silently, so maybe your arrows will, too. How to carry fire in a piece of smouldering fungus wrapped in birchbark. These are the things which help a world come alive. ~ Michelle Paver

Ah, Mr. Ogg! How I like you!" Mr. Owl cheered. "Always ready to break a neck. Good fellow! ~ M.L. LeGette

If he doesn't get here soon, I'm going to fall asleep, Susan grumbled.
He loved hearing her voice in his head even when she was cranky.
The thought made him smile. I've been keeping you up too late.
Not really, she replied. I've always been a night owl. I just haven't been sleeping late the way I usually do.
And had had one scare after another whilst awake.
Did I mention I'm still sore from digging your handsome ass up?
He laughed.
It was totally worth it, of course, she went on.But if we find out you're single, I might hit you up for a nice long massage.
He cursed when his body immediately responded to the image of her naked and laid out before him, waiting for him to run his hands all over her body. Now who's flirting?
Ooh, she purred. That's so cool. Even in your thoughts, your voice deepens and gets all growly when you're turned on. Before he could respond, she made a sound of impatience.Damn it. Now I'm turned on.
He laughed, delighted that she inspired him to do so even in such grim circumstances. ~ Dianne Duvall

Of course, owls on the loose seemed strange to the uninitiated. One day an electrician came to work on the building's power supply, when, seemingly out of nowhere, an owl flew around a corner right at him. The poor guy let out an unearthly scream and hit the floor, covering his head and yelling in Spanish. ~ Stacey O'Brien

Miaow

Consider me.
I sit here like Tiberius,
inscrutable and grand.
I will let "I dare not"
wait upon "I would"
and bear the twangling
of your small guitar
because you are my owl
and foster me with milk.
Why wet my paw?
Just keep me in a bag
and no one knows the truth.
I am familiar with witches
and stand a better chance in hell than you
for I can dance on hot bricks,
leap your height
and land on all fours.
I am the servant of the Living God.
I worship in my way.
Look into these slit green stones
and follow your reflected lights
into the dark.

Michel, Duc de Montaigne, knew.
You don't play with me.
I play with you. ~ Mark Haddon

Midnight is another planet! When the clock strikes twelve and if you are asleep, wake up, friend, and discover the beauties of this new planet: Discover the silence; discover the tranquillity; speak to the owls, speak to the moon; greet the hedgehogs and disappear in the midst of the mists! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Hoddies are pants for your arms! ~ Adam Young

If she had looked out the window, she might have seen a great, hoary old black owl alight on the branch of the oak tree. She might have seen the owl lean perilously forward on his green-black branch and, without taking his gaze from her window, fall hard - thump, bash! - onto the streetside. She would have seen the bird bounce up, and when he righted himself, become a handsome young man in a handsome black coat, his dark hair curly and thick, flecked with silver, his mouth half-smiling, as if anticipating a terribly sweet thing. ~ Catherynne M Valente

That's right. You'll like Owl. He flew past a day or two ago and noticed me. He didn't actually say anything, mind you, but he knew it was me. Very friendly of him. Encouraging."

Pooh and Piglet shuffled about a little and said, "Well, good-bye, Eeyore" as lingeringly as they could, but they had a long way to go, and wanted to be getting on.

"Good-bye," said Eeyore. "Mind you don't get blown away, little Piglet. You'd be missed. People would say `Where's little Piglet been blown to?' -- really wanting to know. Well, good-bye. And thank you for happening to pass me. ~ A.A. Milne

Death Vision

I think it's a multiplication of sight,
Like after a low hovering autumn rain
When the invisible web of funnel weaves
And sheetweb weavers all at once are seen
Where they always were, spread and looping
The grasses, every strand, waft and leaf-
Crest elucidated with water-light and frost,
completing the fullest aspect of field.

Or maybe the grace of death is split-second
Transformation of knowledge, an intricate,
Turning realization, as when a single
Sperm-embracing deep ovum transforms,
In an instant, from stasis to replicating,
Star-shifting shimmer, rolls, reaches,
Alters its plane of intentions, becomes
A hoofing, thumping host of purpose.


I can imagine not merely
The falling away of blank walls
And blinds in that moment, not merely
A shutter flung open for the first time
Above a valley of interlocking forests
And constellations but a sweeping,
Penetrating circumference of vision
Encompassing both knotweed bud
And its seed simultaneously, seeing
Blood bone and its ash as one,
The repeated light and fall and flight
Of hawk-owl and tundra vole
As a union of origin and finality.

A mathematics of flesh and space might
Take hold if we ask for it in that last
Moment, might appear as if it had always
Existed within the eyes, translucent,
Jewel-like in stained gla ~ Pattiann Rogers

You're back early from Chicago," Jim remarked, seemingly oblivious to his friend's cold reserve. "I wonder why?"
"You know damned well why," Nick retorted grimly.
Jim's brows lifted, but he turned his tawny, appreciative gaze on Lauren. "I'd tell you how gorgeous you look,but at the moment,Nick is already restraining the urge to knock my teeth down my throat.
"Why?" Lauren gasped, her own gaze flying to Nick's granite features.
Jim answered with a chuckle. "It has something to do with two dozen red roses and a kiss he witnessed.He's forgotten about a girl I was in love with once but couldn't quite get up the nerve to ask to marry me. He got tired of waiting for me to bolster my courage, so he sent Ericka two dozen-"
Nick's breath exploded in laughter. "You bastard," he said good-naturedly, and this time his handclasp was sincere. ~ Judith McNaught

He carried her over the Owl Creek mountain range without stopping," he said, quietly this time. "He carried her until he reached one of the hot springs around what became Chapin, and then he walked into the water with her and held her there for three days. He had about given up when she opened her eyes and whispered his name. ~ Laura Anderson Kurk

As Hegel put it, only when it is dark does the owl of Minerva begin its flight. Only in extinction is the collector comprehend. ~ Walter Benjamin

For some time now Pooh had been saying "Yes" and "No" in turn, with his eyes shut, to all that Owl was saying, and having said, "Yes, yes," last time, he said "No, not at all," now, without really knowing what Owl was talking about. ~ A.A. Milne

I believe there are beautiful things seen by the astronauts. The indications revealed. That few of us realize life is quite surreal ~ Owl City

The soft, fluttering cry of a barn owl rose over the churchyard. Silent men flowed out of the dark. ~ Parke Godwin

. . . to my surprise I began to know what The Language was about, not just the part we were singing now but the whole poem. It began with the praise and joy in all creation, copying the voice of the wind and the sea. It described sun and moon, stars and clouds, birth and death, winter and spring, the essence of fish, bird, animal, and man. It spoke in what seemed to be the language of each creature. . . . It spoke of well, spring, and stream, of the seed that comes from the loins of a male creature and of the embryo that grows in the womb of the female. It pictured the dry seed deep in the dark earth, feeling the rain and the warmth seeping down to it. It sang of the green shoot and of the tawny heads of harvest grain standing out in the field under the great moon. It described the chrysalis that turns into a golden butterfly, the eggs that break to let out the fluffy bird life within, the birth pangs of woman and of beast. It went on to speak of the dark ferocity of the creatures that pounce upon their prey and plunge their teeth into it--it spoke in the muffled voice of bear and wolf--it sang the song of the great hawks and eagles and owls until their wild faces seemed to be staring into mine, and I knew myself as wild as they. It sang the minor chords of pain and sickness, of injury and old age; for a few moments I felt I was an old woman with age heavy upon me. ~ Monica Furlong

The rat scuttles, the big cat creeps, the monkey dashes,
The bat glides, the white crane soars, the lizard darts,
And the owl hoots
In the middle of the night. ~ Sandy Fussell

Top management is supposed to be a tree full of owls ... hooting when management heads into the wrong part of the forest. I'm still unpersuaded they even know where the forest is. ~ Robert Townsend

I'm a night owl for sure. I was born at 1 A.M., and that's the excuse I use. ~ Karla Souza

Being a father describes a man, being a mother defines a woman. ~ Tawny O'dell

Nite Owl II: But the country's disintegrating. What's happened to America? What's happened to the American dream?
The Comedian: It came true. You're lookin' at it. ~ Alan Moore

What sort of work do you do?"
Lifting her skirts with one hand, still holding the owl in the other, she started for the cottage. "Quickening. Citizens of this spacetime call it clockwork magic."
--- ~ Sharon Lynn Fisher

Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of the owl. ~ Mary Oliver

As when on some secluded branch in forest far and wide sits perched an owl, who, full of self-conceit and self-created wisdom, explains, comments, condemns, ordains and order things not understood, yet full of importance still holds forth to stocks and stones around - so sits and scribbles Mike. ~ Michael Faraday

Well, did Owl always have a letter-box in his ceiling?"
"Has he?"
"Yes, look."
"I can't," said Pooh. "I'm face downwards under something, and that, Piglet, is a very bad position for looking at ceilings."
"Well, he has, Pooh."
"Perhaps he's changed it," said Pooh. "Just for a change. ~ A.A. Milne

I'm not an owl. I'm a wolf. I'll howl. -Arya Stark ~ George R R Martin

The shower ran for a long time and I had nearly dozed off when he appeared nude. Closing my eyes, I ignored him as he climbed into bed and rested away from me. I figured he was still throwing a fit about me throwing a fit. Then, I felt his hand run down my back. Just once, as if he needed to feel me before he could sleep. Minutes later, I heard his breathing change. ~ Bijou Hunter

I'm not an owl," said Arya. "I'm a wolf. I'll howl. ~ George R R Martin

Shakespeare shook his head and sunk his chin into his ruff, making him look more owl-like than ever. I have written about other worlds often enough. I have said what I can say. There are many kinds of reality. This is but one kind. ~ Jeanette Winterson

The stars were withdrawn, small, giving no light, unlike other nights when they seemed to hang large from the sky ready to be reached for and taken into our hands. ~ Sanora Babb

Next, the cranky priest was waiting for Emily when she returned home and demanded to hear her confession. Funnily, she omitted her great sex life and just listed cursing and disobeying her parents and asked for any other sins to be forgiven. The priest was a wise old owl and had a long chat with her afterwards. He had worked himself up into a fury and talked about immoral sex. He warned her that once a girl got a bad name her reputation was gone for ever and she was on a slippery slope to pregnancy and been hidden away in the Magdalene Laundries for the rest of her life.
~ Annette J. Dunlea

Oh cat, I'd say, or pray: be-ootiful cat! Delicious cat! Exquisite cat! Satiny cat! Cat like a soft owl, cat with paws like moths, jewelled cat, miraculous cat! Cat, cat, cat, cat. ~ Doris Lessing