Blackbird Quotes

1. "I don't mind him not talking so much, because you can hear his voice in your heart; the same way you can hear a song in your head even if there isn't a radio playing; the same way you can hear those blackbirds flying when they're not in the sky"
Author: Adam Rapp

2. "FebruaryBoris PasternakIt's February. Get ink. Weep.Write the heart out about it, singAnother song of FebruaryWhile raucous slush burns black with spring.Six grivnas* for a buggy ridePast booming bells, on screaming gears,Out to a place where drizzles fallLouder than any ink or tearsWhere like a flock of charcoal pears,A thousand blackbirds, ripped awryFrom trees to puddles, knock dry griefInto the deep end of the eye.A thaw patch blackens underfoot.The wind is gutted with a scream.True verses are the most haphazard,Rhyming the heart out on a theme.*Grivna: a unit of currency."
Author: Boris Pasternak

3. "I am a flawed person. A brook with many stones, a clear blue sky with many blackbirds. I have many shortcomings. A rainbow that's not long enough, a starry night with clouds. But I can only be thankful to the God who loves me just this way, and I can only be grateful to the people in my life who accept the clear blue sky with many blackbirds and who are patient with the rainbow that isn't long enough. And because of this, I am taught love, because of this I love my God, and I love these people."
Author: C. JoyBell C.

4. "We waste days like mad blackbirds and pray for alcoholic nightsour silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti"
Author: Charles Bukowski

5. "And when you write a poem within the accepted poem-form, making it sound like a poem because a poem is a poem is a poem, you are saying "good morning" in that poem, and well, your morals are straight and you have not said SHIT, but wouldn't it be wonderful if you could…instead of sweating out the correct image, the precise phrase, the turn of a thought…simply sit down and write the god damned thing, throwing on the color and sound, shaking us alive with the force, the blackbirds, the wheat fields, the ear in the hand of the whore, sun, sun, sun, SUN!; let's make poetry the way we make love; let's make poetry and leave the laws and the rules and the morals to the churches and the politicians; let's make poetry the way we tilt the head back for the good liquor; let a drunken bum make his flame, and some day, Robert, I'll think of you, pretty and difficult, measuring vowels and adverbs, making rules instead of poetry."
Author: Charles Bukowski

6. "I'm sorry," I choke out.He's quiet. Tears drip off my chin. He lets out a slow, shaky breath."Don't cry," he says. "That's not fair."I laugh and sob at the same time."It's okay," he whispers. His fingers brush at the tears on my cheeks. "Don't cry."Then he puts his arms around me, wings and all. I curl my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest and breathe in the smell of the river on him. Somewhere in the woods a crow caws. A blackbird answers. And then we're kissing and everything goes away but Tucker."
Author: Cynthia Hand

7. "...a new day was starting, the things of the garden were not concerned with our troubles. A blackbird ran across the rose-garden to the lawns in swift, short rushes, stopping now and again to stab at the earth with his yellow beak. A thrush, too, went about his business, and two stout, little wagtails, following one another, and a little cluster of twittering sparrows. A gull poised himself high in the air, silent and alone, and then spread his wings wide and swooped beyond the lawns to the woods and the Happy Valley. These things continued, our worries and anxieties had no power to alter them."
Author: Daphne Du Maurier

8. "The silences after his last gasp were sung together by a blackbird. I lay there, my eyes unable to close. His were unable to open. I listed the places where I hurt, and how much. My loins felt ripped. Something inside had torn. There were seven places on my body where he had sunk his fangs into my skin and bitten. He'd dug his nails into my neck, and twisted my head to one side, and clawed my face. I hadn't made a noise. He had made all the noise for both of us. Had it hurt him?"
Author: David Mitchell

9. "Last night, Good Friday night, at the bottom of the escalator at King's X tube, a weasel-faced man in uniform was sweeping up rubbish with a wide broom, drink cartons, cigarette packets with all the dust and filthy scraps of the day which he pushed towards an elegant long black glove that was lying there. I expected him to pick it up as I would have – I thought of picking it up, but was too late. He smothered it in a wide sweep. It seemed to me extraordinary and shocking that he had no feeling for it. Several images went through my mind, a symbolic hand, a dead blackbird, an ornamental bookmark fallen from a lectern Bible – any once-precious relic being tumbled in the dirt. As I went up the escalator I remembered the Tatterdemallion whom I haven't seen for months and thought of his body, if he were to die in the tube, being tumbled about with the rest of the thrown-away rubbish." David Thomson, In Camden Town"
Author: David Thomson

10. "Perfectly happy momma goes out into the fields. she eavesdrops on herself, in case somewhere deep inside a melody rings out or a blackbird sings, but all that she hears, is only the cancer, which saws and eats away at her."
Author: Elfriede Jelinek

11. "I marched back then - I was in a civil-rights musical, Fly Blackbird, and we met Martin Luther King."
Author: George Takei

12. "Soon the ice will melt, and the blackbirds sing along the river which he frequented, as pleasantly as ever. The same everlasting serenity will appear in this face of God, and we will not be sorrowful, if he is not."
Author: Henry David Thoreau

13. "I can walk into someone's house, kiss their wife, sit down at their table, and eat their dinner. I can lift a passport at an airport, and in twenty minutes it will seem like it's mine. I can be a blackbird staring in the window. I can be a cat creeping along a ledge. I can go anywhere I want and do the worst things I can imagine, with nothing to ever connect me to those crimes. Today I look like me, but tomorrow I could look like you. I could be you."
Author: Holly Black

14. "Spencer repeats, a little harsher now. "I want kissing, I want mad fucking passionate kissing. The kind of kissing I've seen in all those other photos of you, the kissing that is so filled with emotion and longing and lust, I'm instantly hard. Kiss me like that, Blackbird."
Author: J.A. Huss

15. "Though he slay me, yet I will praise him," he began softly, his voice a little tremulous at first. "I will rise up in the morning with the dew and praise his name. He has given me a place to serve him, a name with which to be known. He has called me forth and made my heart race with the wind on the Downs, made me soar with the blackbird in the evening. So though he slay me, yet I will praise him. Though sorrows be my lot, yet I will sing. When my last tear has fallen I will take up my song again, I will praise his most glorious exalted name."
Author: Jennifer Freitag

16. "You are at my side, dear friends, and God is everywhere. Yet ultimately we are alone, making our way home by the candle of the heart. The light is steady and sure but extends only far enough to see the next step.Many times the light seems to go out. But another light, one held by a stranger or friend, a book or a song, a blackbird or a wild flower, comes close enough so that we can see our path by its light. And in time we realize that the light we have borrowed was always our own."
Author: Joan Borysenko

17. "The bowed head, the buried face. She is silent, she will never speak, never forgive, never reach a hand, never leave this frozen present tense. All waits, suspended. Suspended the autumn trees, the autumn sky, anonymous people. A blackbird, poor fool, sings out of season from the willows by the lake. A flight of pigeons over the houses; fragments of freedom, hazard, an anagram made flesh. And somewhere the stinging smell of burning leaves."
Author: John Fowles

18. "The moon pooled golden in the cove, and gently pulled me from my dreams - of houses on cobbled streets somehow familiar - in towns without a name.And there, awake under a canopy of stars, I discovered that blackbirds really do sing in the dead of night. And wrapping myself in wings once broken - I wept, for I was home..."
Author: Kate Mullane Robertson

19. "Suffering sucks. Don't do it. Go home and love your wife. Go home and love yourself. Go homeand base your happiness on one thing and one thing only: freedom. Choose freedom, not suffering. Create a life of freedom, not wanting. Have some really good coffee and listen to the red-winged blackbirds in the marsh. Ignore the mosquitoes."
Author: Laura Munson

20. "You can find something funny in anything! I'm sick as a dog and falling to bits, but I'll give up joking only after I give up the ghost! my last gasp! The proof, here, with only an eighth of a glimmer of light, things oozing out of my asshole, my armpits, and the elbows, too, blood coming out of the eyes, from the soupy mess of my grave, me whistling a tune, that's what you'll hear! A regular blackbird!"
Author: Louis Ferdinand Céline

21. "I stayed under the moon too long.I am silvered with lust.Dreams flick like minnows through my eyes.My voice is trees tossing in the wind.I loose myself like a flock of blackbirdsstorming into your face.My lightest touch leaves blue prints,bruises on your mind.Desire sandpapers your skinso thin I read the veins and arteriesmaps of routes I will traveltill I lodge in your spine.The night is our fur.We curl inside it licking."
Author: Marge Piercy

22. "Winter came in days that were gray and still. They were the kind of days in which people locked in their animals and themselves and nothing seemed to stir but the smoke curling upwards from clay chimneys and an occasional red-winged blackbird which refused to be grounded. And it was cold. Not the windy cold like Uncle Hammer said swept the northern winter, but a frosty, idle cold that seeped across a hot land ever lookung toward the days of green and ripening fields, a cold thay lay uneasy during during its short stay as it crept through the cracks of poorly constucted houses and forced the people inside huddled around ever-burning fires to wish it gone."
Author: Mildred D. Taylor

23. "Maybe we try too hard to be remembered, waking to the glowing yellow disc in ignorance, swearing that today will be the day, today we will makesomething of our lives. what if we are so busy searching for worth that we miss the sapphire sky and cackling blackbird. what else is missing?maybe our steps are too straight and our paths too narrow and not overlapping. maybe when they overlap someone in another country lights a candle, a coupleresolves their argument, a young man puts down his silver gun and walks away."
Author: Naomi Shihab Nye

24. "King Dan sat on his stallion fierceSwords did slice and spears did pierceBut in a tree upon the fieldPerched a small, keen-eyed blackbirdAnd the blackbird did not singNo, the blackbird did not sing"
Author: Shannon Hale

25. "Asleep by the SmithsVapour Trail by RideScarborough Fair by Simon & GarfunkelA Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol HarumDear Prudence by the BeatlesGypsy by Suzanne VegaNights in White Satin by the Moody BluesDaydream by Smashing PumpkinsDusk by Genesis (before Phil Collins was even in the band!)MLK by U2Blackbird by the BeatlesLandslide by Fleetwood MacAsleep by the Smiths (again!)-Charlie's mixtape"
Author: Stephen Chbosky

26. "Pack up all my care and woe, blackbird, bye-bye"
Author: Stephen King

27. "Blackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these broken wings and learn to flyAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to arise."
Author: The Beatles

28. "I know noble accentsAnd lucid, inescapable rhythms;But I know, too,That the blackbird is involvedIn what I know."
Author: Wallace Stevens

29. "I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections, Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling, Or just after."
Author: Wallace Stevens

30. "The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying."
Author: Wallace Stevens

31. "I am a closet birdwatcher. I can identify Southern African species, but it irks me I can barely tell a jay from a blackbird in the U.K."
Author: Wilbur Smith

32. "In the spring I'd shit with the door open, watching the blackbirds"
Author: William H. Gass

Blackbird Quotes Pictures