Bird Bath Quotes & Sayings

You have the Super Soaker filled with holy water?"
"Yeah. I sucked it out of the church. You know that bird-bath thing they got right up front?"
"The baptismal font?"
"That's it. They got it filled with holy water, free for the taking."
"Brilliant," I said to Lula.
She tapped her head with her finger. "No grass growin' here. — Janet Evanovich

You could not receive a young man in your room; you might be permitted to have him to tea in one of the public reception rooms, but you could accept no invitation from young men to tea or other entertainment without a chaperone from the College. — Dora Russell

Mindfulness is deliberately paying full attention to what is happening around you-in your body, heart and mind. Mindfulness is awareness without criticism or judgment. — Jan Chozen Bays

Your path isn't an easy one, sweetheart. But it might just end up being spectacular." She turned brilliant blue eyes on her daughter. "You have to fight for what you want, and I know you'll win. Every damn time. — Rebecca Zanetti

Still I sojourn here, alone and palely loitering, though the sedge is withered from the lake and no birds sing. For I sent the bath towel to the wash this morning, and omitted to put out another. I have no towel. — Rose Macaulay

I couldn't get away with Halloween pranks 'cause my parents owned the health food store. So, it was so easy to bust me. I was the only kid on the block egging houses with those big 'ole brown eggs. Like, you didn't have to be a detective to figure it out. 'Oh, I wonder who Tofuttied my mailbox. Is it the same evil genius who filled my bird bath with Rice Dream? — Arj Barker

As much as we all love playing live, it's not normal to be on the road all the time, to have no home. — Gavin Rossdale

He looked at me with serious eyes, but not the kind that made me wonder what I'd done wrong. The kind that made me wonder what I'd done right. — Denise Jaden

The slate black sky. The middle step
of the back porch. And long ago

my mother's necklace, the beads
rolling north and south. Broken

the rose stem, water into drops, glass
knob on the bedroom door. Last summer's

pot of parsley and mint, white roots
shooting like streamers through the cracks.

Years ago the cat's tail, the bird bath,
the car hood's rusted latch. Broken

little finger on my right hand at birth--
I was pulled out too fast. What hasn't

been rent, divided, split? Broken the days into nights, the night sky

into stars, the stars into patterns
I make up as I trace them

with a broken-off blade
of grass. Possible, unthinkable,

the cricket's tiny back as I lie
on the lawn in the dark, my hart

a blue cup fallen from someone's hands. — Dorianne Laux