A Quote by Ellsworth Kelly
I have trained my eye over and over ever since I was a kid. I was a bird watcher when I was a little boy. My grandmother gave me a bird book, and I got to like their colors.
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I learned my color in Europe. I've always been a colorist, I think. I started when I was very young, being a bird-watcher, fascinated by the bird colors.
I don't know [why we're here]. People sometimes say to me, 'Why don't you admit that the humming bird, the butterfly, the Bird of Paradise are proof of the wonderful things produced by Creation?' And I always say, well, when you say that, you've also got to think of a little boy sitting on a river bank, like here, in West Africa, that's got a little worm, a living organism, in his eye and boring through the eyeball and is slowly turning him blind. The Creator God that you believe in, presumably, also made that little worm. Now I personally find that difficult to accommodate.
My father used to say: Every bird is one bird, and every book is one book, and every bird and every book is one thing too, under the words and the feathers." He finished with a flourish, as though the meaning of this was self-evident.
No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.
I remember, my very first day at a new school, a bird pooped all down my back. It was like any other day of school except everyone was like, 'Oh my God, you're from the movie 'Big Daddy,'' and I had bird poop all over me.
Since I had my gastric bypass surgery in 1998, I eat like a bird. Unfortunately, that bird is a California condor.
As a little kid, I climbed a lot of trees because I always loved the bird's-eye view.
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.
Once a bird kid, always a bird kid. - maximum ride series
It wasn't until Hope fluttered over and landed at Alex's feet, peering questioningly up at him, that he finally tore his hands away from his eyes.Oh, my God, he said, sounding disgusted. Why is there a bird looking at me?That's Miss Oliviera's bird, Henry volunteered cheerfully. The captain gave it to her as a present.Kayla punched me in the arm. John's got his captain's license? she whispered. You are so lucky. Frank says he just loads cargo.I glanced at Frank. I wondered if Kayla would like him as much if she knew the cargo he loaded was human souls.
Early bird Oh, if you’re a bird, be an early bird And catch the worm for your breakfast plate. If you’re a bird, be an early bird— But if you’re a worm, sleep late.
Since I've been five, people asked me if we're related. It is usually the third question in the line of questions. What's your name? Sue Bird. Oh, what do you do? I play basketball. Are you related to Larry Bird? That's how it goes. I guess it could be worse, though, since he is a legend and all.
Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.
The heart, in its journey to Allah, Majestic is He, is like that of a bird; Love is its head, and fear and hope are its two wings. When the head and two wings are sound, the bird flies gracefully; if the head is severed, the bird dies; if the bird loses one of its wings, it then becomes a target for every hunter or predator.
Society has put up so many boundaries, so many limitations on what’s right and wrong that it’s almost impossible to get a pure thought out. It’s like a little kid, a little boy, looking at colors, and no one told him what colors are good, before somebody tells you you shouldn’t like pink because that’s for girls, or you’d instantly become a gay two-year-old. Why would anyone pick blue over pink? Pink is obviously a better color. Everyone’s born confident, and everything’s taken away from you.
You will remember when a bird crashed through the window and fell to the floor. You will remember, those of you who were there, how it jerked its wings before dying, and left a spot of blood on the floor after it was removed. But who among you was first to notice the negative bird it left in the window? Who first saw the shadow that the bird left behind, the shadow that drew blood from any finger that dared to trace it, the shadow that was better proof of the bird's existence than the bird ever was?
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