The Early Bird Gets The Worm Quotes

The patient bird gets the worm," Skylene said with a confident nod. "That's another classic phrase."
Tangerina rolled her eyes and pulled her friend aside.
"Skylene, the phrase is 'The early bird gets the worm," she said. "It's supposed to encourage people to wake up early."
"Oh," Skylene said. "But that's not very encouraging for an early worm. ~ Chris Colfer

The sun shines every day.
Some times the clouds get in the way. ~ George A. Kozlowski

The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. ~ Willie Nelson

The early bird gets the worm that should have slept in. ~ J.S. Davey

The early bird gets the worm. The early worm ... gets eaten. ~ Norman Ralph Augustine

We'll leave around six."
"Is that...morning, six-ish?"
"The early bird gets the worm. Not a bad deal, if you enjoy high-quality worm meat. ~ Lee DeBourg

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

Archaeopteryx probably cannot tell us much about the early origins of feathers and flight in true protobirds because Archaeopteryx was, in the modern sense, a bird. ~ Alan Feduccia

Here's what I think, Mr. Wind-Up Bird," said May Kasahara. "Everybody's born with some different thing at the core of their existence. And that thing, whatever it is, becomes like a heat source that runs each person from the inside. I have one too, of course. Like everybody else. But sometimes it gets out of hand. It swells or shrinks inside me, and it shakes me up. What I'd really like to do is find a way to communicate that feeling to another person. But I can't seem to do it. They just don't get it. Of course, the problem could be that I'm not explaining it very well, but I think it's because they're not listening very well. They pretend to be listening, but they're not, really. So I get worked up sometimes, and I do some crazy things. ~ Haruki Murakami

1
Cain lifts Crow, that heavy black bird
and strikes down Abel.

Damn, says Crow, I guess
this is just the beginning.

2
The white man, disguised
as a falcon, swoops in
and yet again steals a salmon
from Crow's talons.

Damn, says Crow, if I could swim
I would have fled this country years ago.

3
The Crow God as depicted
in all of the reliable Crow bibles
looks exactly like a Crow.

Damn, says Crow, this makes it
so much easier to worship myself.

4
Among the ashes of Jericho,
Crow sacrifices his firstborn son.

Damn, says Crow, a million nests
are soaked with blood.

5
When Crows fight Crows
the sky fills with beaks and talons.

Damn, says Crow, it's raining feathers.

6
Crow flies around the reservation
and collects empty beer bottles

but they are so heavy
he can only carry one at a time.

So, one by one, he returns them
but gets only five cents a bottle.

Damn, says Crow, redemption
is not easy.

7
Crow rides a pale horse
into a crowded powwow
but none of the Indian panic.

Damn, says Crow, I guess
they already live near the end of the world. ~ Sherman Alexie

I Love Thee

I love thee, as I love the calm
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
Of early jes'mine flow'rs.
I love thee, as I love the last
Rich smile of fading day,
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,
On rapture pass'd away.
I love thee as I love the tone
Of some soft-breathing flute
Whose soul is wak'd for me alone,
When all beside is mute.


I love thee as I love the first
Young violet of the spring;
Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd,
To scented blossoming.
I love thee, as I love the full,
Clear gushings of the song,
Which lonely--sad--and beautiful--
At night-fall floats along,
Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet
The hours of rest and dew;
When melody and moonlight meet
To blend their charm, and hue.
I love thee, as the glad bird loves
The freedom of its wing,
On which delightedly it moves
In wildest wandering.

I love thee as I love the swell,
And hush, of some low strain,
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,
The past to life again.
Such is the feeling which from thee
Nought earthly can allure:
'Tis ever link'd to all I see
Of gifted--high--and pure! ~ Eliza Acton

What is a bad thing anyway? A bad thing is something that is different than what I want. Who gets to decide what the bad thing is? Jerry and Esther watched the mother bird lay her eggs in the nest, and then the neighbor's cat ate the baby bird. Esther said "bad cat!" And the cat said, "good bird! ~ Esther Hicks

Keep the child within alive. A child never tires of hearing the birds sing, never gets bored looking at flowers. ~ Mata Amritanandamayi

If something gets under my own skin, and keeps reoccurring, it starts to take on a certain weight and value, and I think, "I have to put this in the song. I have no choice but to mention Greek Cypriots in this song." It's a little internal challenge to myself. Like creating little imaginary rituals in yourself to help the song go from nonexisting to existing. ~ Andrew Bird

My soul is like the dead sea, over which no bird can fly; when it gets halfway, it sinks down spent to its death and destruction. ~ Soren Kierkegaard

In nature, the bird who gets up earliest catches the most worms, but in book collecting the prizes fall to birds who know worms when they see them. ~ Michael Sadleir

The term "fed up" actually comes from falconry. When you train a falcon, you train it by hunger, using it as a tool to manipulate the bird's psychology. So when the bird has had too much to eat, it won't cooperate and gets annoyed by any attempts to tell it what to do. It simply sits in the top of a tree and sulks. It is "fed up". ~ Douglas Adams

Silence is the nest and music is the bird. The bird leaves the nest early in the morning and returns to the nest in the evening. Similarly, in the spiritual world, divine music comes from the inmost soul of Silence. ~ Sri Chinmoy

Genetic selection for early egg production, to reduce time and money 'wasted' on feeding and housing unproductive birds for six months, results in eggs being formed that are often too big to be laid by the immature body of a small, five month old bird. Uteruses 'prolapse,' pushing through the vagina of the small, cramped birds forced to strain day after day to expel huge eggs. The uterus protrudes, hangs, and 'blows out,' inviting infection and vent picking by cell mates, from whom the prolapse victim, in severe pain, cannot escape except by dying. ~ Karen Davis

I'm an early bird, partly because I like to have some quiet time and partly because by 9am emails begin arriving, the phone starts ringing and I have dragons to kill of one sort or another. ~ Andrew Motion

...Following the bird you lay into a deep turn in the steepening descent. It [the snow] is super soft, bottomless and amazingly light, yet supportive. It feels like something in between floating on top, and within the top of a deep-pile carpet as you link turn after turn down the open glacier. Each side of you are fellow riders, though not too close, whooping with exhilaration and flying down, down towards the valley below. The pitch gets steeper and the slope widens out, with seemingly endless space to the sides and an untracked oblivion ahead and beneath you. Each turn is delicious softness; you can almost feel every snow crystal reacting with the base of your skis. Those skis feel like extensions of your feet, and you connect with the mountain through a portal link created by the snowpack, as the spray from the turn hangs in the air behind you... ~ Steve Baldwin

Fire up your heart for the wind is getting cold, now it always gets cold for the riders of the night. When you carry that dream when you know what lonesome is looking for a home like a bird in flight. ~ Jon Stewart

It's best to have failure happen early in life. It wakes up the Phoenix bird in you so you rise from the ashes. ~ Anne Baxter

Because the dog was after her, Poor Cat Fright. As I was going up Pippin Hill, Pippin Hill was dirty, There I met a pretty miss, And she dropped me a curtsey. Early to bed, and early to rise, Is the way to be healthy, wealthy, and wise. Old woman, old woman, shall we go a-shearing? Speak a little louder, sir, I am very thick o' hearing. Old woman, old woman, shall I kiss you dearly? Thank you, kind sir, I hear very clearly. The Cuckoo's a bonny bird, She sings as she flies, She brings us good tidings, And tells us no lies. She sucks little birds' eggs, To make her voice clear, And never cries "Cuckoo!" Till spring-time of the year. ~ Harrison Weir

I wasn't born an early bird.
It took three different alarms clocks blasting in my ear every morning to wake me up. And on special occasions when I'd sleep through the bird caws, beeping, and extreme drum solos, Stella would have the privilege of yanking me from my bed. ~ Joddie Zeng

To wake up on a gloriously bright morning, in a tent pitched beneath spruce trees, and to look out lazily and sleepily for a moment from the open side of the tent, across the dead camp-fire of the night before, to the river, where the light of morning rests and perhaps some early-rising[240] native is gliding in his birch canoe; to go to the river and freshen one's self with the cold water, and yell exultingly to the gulls and hell-divers, in the very joy of living; or to wake at night, when you have rolled in your blankets in the frost-stricken dying grass without a tent, and to look up through the leaves above to the dark sky and the flashing stars, and hear far off the call of a night bird or the howl of a wolf: this is the poetry, the joy of a wild and roving existence, which cannot come too often ~ Josiah Edward Spurr

There's always a tension between wanting to write a really concise, instant gratification type song that gets under your skin the first time you hear it, and wanting to really stretch out. I think it's a healthy tension. ~ Andrew Bird

Who gets the bird, the hunter or the dog? ~ John Lewis

As the late earl said, 'The early bird catches birds of a like feather,'" she said.
I nodded, not even trying to understand how that would work. At the very least, the combination of proverbs made it somewhat original. ~ Tarun Shanker

We notice that the mind is a restless bird; the more it gets the more it wants, and still remains unsatisfied. The more we indulge our passions the more unbridled they become. Our ancestors, therefore, set a limit to our indulgences. They saw that happiness was largely a mental condition. A man is not necessarily happy because he is rich, or unhappy because he is poor ... Millions will always remain poor. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Birds are the last of the dinosaurs. Tiny velociraptors with wings. Devouring defenseless wiggly things and, and nuts, and fish, and, and other birds. They get the early worms. And have you ever watched a chicken eat? They may look innocent, but birds are, well, they're vicious. ~ Neil Gaiman

It is not the diamonds or the birds, the people or the potatoes; it is not any of the nouns. The miracle is the adverbs, the way things are done. It is the way love gets done despite every catastrophe. ~ Daniel Handler

--Your headache--


I am trying to imagine it
Your head is in your hands
The nurse is pouring pills onto a plate
November again
Too late

Your headache
It is a bird
Wounded, in leaves

Its sweet bird's nest is full of pain in a distant place

November
There are daisies
In the ruined garden, still blooming strangely

And in a manic yellow hat, the old lady

And the old man, dead in his bed

And their daughter, the saint:

Her dark, religious hair gets tangled in the branches
She is screaming, grabbing

While the nurses play Mozart in another room
While the bats fly over the roof
Snatch the black notes from the blackness
Laughing

You cry
I am going to die

I can see them through this window

Their little black capes

The touching ugliness of their little faces ~ Laura Kasischke

His bike was lying against the curb, and he righted it, holding the handlebars. "What I do, I do out of hate, not humanity. Because punishing assholes gets me off - not saving victims. And actually all this . . ." He cast his gaze around us. "This isn't doing a fucking thing for me. So if you're not going to jump, I'd just as soon be home in bed."
Home. Well, there was one question answered.
Face burning, I shook my head. "No, I'm not jumping."
"Great." He slung a leg over his crossbar. Face utterly unchanged, the Badger drew his infamous Glock from inside his hoodie, took aim, and shot me in the thigh from five feet.
"Ow, Jesus!" White paint exploded across my favorite jeans, and a bolt of exquisite pain promised a welt.
"That's for wasting my time," he said, replacing the pistol. "I'm too fucking tired for false alarms, so next time have the decency to jump."
My slack mouth produced no words. I watched him glide away, silent and passive once more. As ever.
I glanced at my palm, streaked with white from where I'd grabbed my leg. Looked and felt just like when a bird shits on your hair. You pray it's a raindrop, but it never is.
Fuck you too, Badger. ~ C.M. McKenna

Freckles never tired of studying the devotion of a fox mother to her babies. To him, whose early life had been so embittered by continual proof of neglect and cruelty in human parents toward their children, the love of these furred and feathered folk of the Limberlost was even more of a miracle than to the Bird Woman and the Angel. ~ Gene Stratton-Porter

My Lebanon is a flock of birds fluttering in the early morning as shepherds lead their sheep into the meadow & rising in the evening as farmers return from their fields and vineyards.You have your Lebanon and its people. I have my Lebanon and its people. ~ Khalil Gibran

It kind of freaked me out. Because I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of thing yet." Or maybe the problem was that I wasn't prepared for how ready I was…
"Ready for-?" He broke off, and then frowned as if it had all become clear. "Wait." He dropped his arms from around my waist and took a step away from me. "You think I spent the night wit you?"
"Didn't you?" I blinked back at him. "There's only the one bed. And…well, you were in it when I woke up."
Thunder boomed overhead. It wasn't as loud as the violent cracks that had occurred in my dream. Although the rumbles were long enough-and intense enough-that the silverware on the table began to make an eerie tinkling sound.
And my bird, who'd been calmly cleaning herself on the back of my chair, suddenly took off, seeing shelter on the highest bookshelf against the far wall.
I realized I'd just insulted my host, and no joke was going to get me out of it this time.
"For your information, Pierce," John said, his tone almost disturbingly calm-but his eyes flashed the same shade as the stone around my neck, which had gone the color of the metal studs at his wrists-"I spent most of last night on the couch. Until one point early this morning, when I heard you call my name. You were crying in your sleep."
The salt water I'd tasted on my lips. Not due to rain from a violent hurricane, but from the tears I'd shed, watching him die in front of me.
"Oh," I said uncomfortably. "John, I'm so-"
Meg Cabot

I don't mind being 65, but nobody is gonna tell me to come in at 5:30 to have the early bird special. ~ Alan King

All the birds love Touche Eclat. It's a (concealer) pen that gets rid of eye bags. But I'm quite happy otherwise. I train a lot. ~ Jason Flemyng

She calls me 'bird boy' and Hawkeye every time she gets a chance. Last year she bought me a bow and arrow for my birthday and told me it was for when the Avengers were called into action. ~ Lila Felix

When a bird gets free, it does not go back for remnants left on the bottom of the cage. ~ Rumi

The early morning hour should be dedicated to praise: do not the birds set us the example? ~ Charles Spurgeon

Make fun of death. We are as dead as it gets, and we are fully aware of this joyous experience. We are with you every time you allow it. We are in every singing bird and in every joyful child. We are part of every delicious pulsing in your environment. We are not dead, and neither will you ever be! You will just get up, one day, and get out of the movie. ~ Esther Hicks

And I was afraid. She frightens me because she can knock me down with a word. Because she does not know that writing is walking on a dizzying silence setting one word after the other on emptiness. Writing is miraculous and terrifying like the flight of a bird who has no wings but flings itself out and only gets wings by flying. ~ Helene Cixous

In my dream I was a seal, and I made love to a seagull. Then I got eaten by a shark, because that's just the way life is. Some fish gets jealous over a bird, and decides to chomp down on his competition. It happens all the time in the real world. ~ Jarod Kintz

I go to all the appointments. All the meetings. I sit with the team of inclusion teachers, occupational therapists, doctors, social workers, remedial teachers, and the cab driver that gets him from appointment to appointment, and I push for everything that can be done for my autistic boy. But I will never have a plan that will fix him. Noah is not something to be fixed.
And our life will never be normal. And people always say,
oh well what's normal, there's no such thing really, and I say
sure there is ... there's a spectrum ... and there's lots and lots of possibilities within that spectrum, and trust me buddy, ducks on the moon ain't one of them ... .but ... .
In this abnormal life, I get to live with a pirate,
and a bird fancier, and an ogre, and a hedgehog, and many many superheroes, and aliens and monsters
and an angel.
I get to go to infinity and beyond. ~ Kelley Jo Burke

Wherever I am, I start my day, it's the same. I'm not an early bird. I'm not waking up at five o'clock, six o'clock; it's usually seven-thirty, eight o'clock, and I will then read the newspapers, emails from around the world and make phone calls. ~ Roustam Tariko

People who record birdsong generally do it very early
before six o'clock
if they can. Soon after that, the invasion of distant noise in most woodland becomes too constant and too loud. ~ Richard Adams

What was it my father used to say? A bird stuck between two branches gets bitten on both wings. I would like to add my own saying to the list now, Father: a man stuck between two worlds lives and dies alone. ~ Dinaw Mengestu

I feel to that the gap between my new life in New York and the situation at home in Africa is stretching into a gulf, as Zimbabwe spirals downwards into a violent dictatorship. My head bulges with the effort to contain both worlds. When I am back in New York, Africa immediately seems fantastical – a wildly plumaged bird, as exotic as it is unlikely.

Most of us struggle in life to maintain the illusion of control, but in Africa that illusion is almost impossible to maintain. I always have the sense there that there is no equilibrium, that everything perpetually teeters on the brink of some dramatic change, that society constantly stands poised for some spasm, some tsunami in which you can do nothing but hope to bob up to the surface and not be sucked out into a dark and hungry sea. The origin of my permanent sense of unease, my general foreboding, is probably the fact that I have lived through just such change, such a sudden and violent upending of value systems.

In my part of Africa, death is never far away. With more Zimbabweans dying in their early thirties now, mortality has a seat at every table. The urgent, tugging winds themselves seem to whisper the message, memento mori, you too shall die. In Africa, you do not view death from the auditorium of life, as a spectator, but from the edge of the stage, waiting only for your cue. You feel perishable, temporary, transient. You feel mortal.

Maybe that is why you seem to live more vividly in A ~ Peter Godwin