A Quote by William Blake

How can a bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? — © William Blake
How can a bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?
How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
When I got to sit in Big Bird's nest with Big Bird and sing the song, 'Sing. Sing a song. Sing out loud,' that was my crowning achievement.
I tried to put a bird in a cage. O fool that I am! For the bird was Truth. Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put Truth in a cage!
You put a big bird in a small cage, it'll sing you a song
Islam was like a mental cage. At first, when you open the door, the caged bird stays inside: it is frightened. It has internalized its imprisonment. It takes time for bird to escape, even after someone has opened the doors to its cage.
Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses? How soft is this one, how subtle this is, How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is, As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice; How this one clings and how that uncloses From bud to flower in the way of roses.
You can cage the songbird, but you can't make her sing. And you can trap the free bird, but you'll have to clip her wings.
The human soul is like a bird that is born in a cage. Nothing can deprive it of its natural longings, or obliterate the mysterious remembrance of its heritage.
If one thinks about racism by examining only one wire of the cage, or one form of disadvantage, it is difficult to understand how and why the bird is trapped. Only a large number of wires arranged in a specific way, and connected to one another, serve to enclose the bird and to ensure that it cannot escape.
Put a bird cage near the window so that the bird can see the sky? It's much better to look than not to, even if it hurts.
I think my great book is Born to Sing: An Interpretation and World Survey of Bird Song.
Most human beings live like a bird in a cage whose door was blown away. Out of habit, too busy gold-plating the cage, they do not soar to the ultimate possibility.
When you take the sires of the cage apart, you do not hurt the bird, but you help it. You let it out of its prison. How do you you know that death does not help me when it takes the wires of my cage down?-that it does not release me, and put me into some better place and better condition of life?
No bird in a cage ever speaks. What is there to say? The sky is everywhere, churning above its head, blue and endless, calling out to it. But the caged bird can't answer anything except 'I cannot'.
If a bird is used to flying and you put in a a cage, it won't be a happy bird; It wants to fly; that's its nature. Your nature is infinite awareness.
A bird in a cage is not half a bird.
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