A Quote by William Shakespeare
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.
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Only flies have true halteres. In fact, the scientific term for flies, 'diptera,' means 'two wings.' Most insects, including bees, have two pairs of wings for a total of four. In flies, the hindwing pairs have been transformed through evolution into the halteres.
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.
They say that "he who flies highest, falls farthest" - and who am I to argue? But we can't forget that "he who doesn't flap his wings, never flies at all".
The swallow is come! The swallow is come! O, fair are the seasons, and light Are the days that she brings, With her dusky wings, And her bosom snowy white!
A bird does not fly because it has wings; it has wings because it flies.
Hope is to our spirits what oxygen is to our lungs. Lose hope and you die. They may not bury you for awhile, but without hope you are dead inside. The only way to face the future is to fly straight into it on the wings of hope....hope is the energy of the soul. Hope is the power of tomorrow.
One cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.
Sadness flies away on the wings of time.
Reason flies When following the senses, on clipped wings.
They say time flies, but you keep breaking it’s wings.
Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.
Man is a machine of remembrance; all we do is to remember things because life flies fast like a swallow; reality immediately disappears!
Sadness flies on the wings of the morning, and out of the heart of darkness comes the light.
Little islands are all large prisons: one cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.
Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, and love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.
Who do you suppose decided that the birds are free? Even if they can fly the skies unless they have a destination and a branch upon which to perch and rest their wings they might even come to resent having those wings. True freedom... true freedom may be having somewhere to return to.
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