I am often on guard over the Russians. In the darkness one sees their forms move like stick storks, like great birds. They come close up to the wire fence and lean their faces against it. Their fingers hook round the mesh.

Any non-commissioned officer is more of an enemy to a recruit, any schoolmaster to a pupil, then they are if they were free.

The crowd, still shouting, gives way before us. We plough our way through. Women hold their aprons over their faces and go stumbling away. A roar of fury goes up. A wounded man is being carried off.

Anyway the war is over so far as they are concerned. But to wait for dysentery is not much of a life either.

The later it gets the more disturbed the city becomes. I go with Albert through the streets. Men are standing in groups at every corner. Rumours are flying. It is said that the military have already fired on a procession of demonstrating workers.

A hospital alone shows what war is.

They are more human and more brotherly towards one another, it seems to me, than we are. But perhaps that is merely because they feel themselves to be more unfortunate than us.

I am often on guard over the Russians. In the darkness one sees their forms move like stick storks, like great birds. They come close up to the wire fence and lean their faces against it. Their fingers hook round the mesh.

On the steps is a machine-gun ready for action. The square is empty; only the streets that lead into it are jammed with people. It would be madness to go farther - the machine-gun is covering the square.

We want to live at any price; so we cannot burden ourselves with feelings which, though they might be ornamental enough in peace-time, would be out of place here.

You may turn into an archangel a fool or a criminal no one will see it. But when a button is missing everyone sees that.

We developed a firm practical feeling of solidarity which grew on the battlefield into the best thing that the war produced comradeship in arms.

That is the remarkable thing about drinking it brings people together so quickly but between night and morning it sets an interval again of years.

No soldier outlives a thousand chances.

Strange how complicated we can make things just to avoid showing what we feel!

It's only terrible to have nothing to wait for.

It's just a job. Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.

Most of the birds of the Old World can be found here, as Oman is on a strategic route for migrating birds.

What birds can have their bills more peculiarly formed than the ibis, the spoonbill, and the heron?

Be grateful for luck. Pay the thunder no mind - listen to the birds. And don't hate nobody.

I can scarcely manage to scribble a tolerable English letter. I know that I am not a scholar, but meantime I am aware that no man living knows better than I do the habits of our birds.

I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.

One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste.

In Kenya you've got the great birds and monkeys leaping through the trees overhead. It's a chance to remember what the world is really like.

When we seed millions of acres of land with these plants, what happens to foraging birds, to insects, to microbes, to the other animals, when they come in contact and digest plants that are producing materials ranging from plastics to vaccines to pharmaceutical products?

Make no mistake about it. These are not 'kookie' birds. Right now the greatest player, the big tent on the political scene in America, is called the Tea Party movement.

The structure of a play is always the story of how the birds came home to roost.

I am decidedly of the opinion that in very many instances we can trace such a necessary connexion, especially among birds, and often with more complete success than in the case which I have here attempted to explain.

There are joys which long to be ours. God sends ten thousands truths, which come about us like birds seeking inlet; but we are shut up to them, and so they bring us nothing, but sit and sing awhile upon the roof, and then fly away.

The parish I live in is a very abrupt, uneven country, full of hills and woods, and therefore full of birds.

Feathers predate birds.

The desire to fly is an idea handed down to us by our ancestors who... looked enviously on the birds soaring freely through space... on the infinite highway of the air.

I used to have this little mouse. I buy birds from the pet store and I let them go.

Having done something like The Thorn Birds gives you enormous longevity. You can keep picking and choosing the roles for a bit longer.

It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries.

Consider the birds. Be wise as serpents.

Use those talents you have. You will make it. You will give joy to the world. Take this tip from nature: The woods would be a very silent place if no birds sang except those who sang best.

I can find God in nature, in animals, in birds and the environment.

As much as I converse with sages and heroes, they have very little of my love and admiration. I long for rural and domestic scene, for the warbling of birds and the prattling of my children.

Birds are a miracle because they prove to us there is a finer, simpler state of being which we may strive to attain.

Whores don't live in company of poor men, citizens never support a weak company and birds don't build nests on a tree that doesn't bear fruits.

The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing.

It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds.

Birds have wings; they're free; they can fly where they want when they want. They have the kind of mobility many people envy.

I realized that If I had to choose, I would rather have birds than airplanes.

Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?

Did St. Francis preach to the birds? Whatever for? If he really liked birds he would have done better to preach to the cats.

Wax myrtle: The birds love this stuff.

A bibliophile of little means is likely to suffer often. Books don't slip from his hands but fly past him through the air, high as birds, high as prices.