Quotes & Sayings About Exotic Birds

It's not visual. He's not. You know him by his work, for one thing, and that part is visual, I suppose, isn't it? The sky, moon, stars, and trees, all those exotic colors you're apt to see in birds' feathers. When you look at a painting, you don't try to visualize the artist, do you? But you know somebody painted it or it wouldn't be there. — Vicki Covington

But she became Gabby's friend in that way that can happen, because the girl with the cool boots always finds the girl with the occasional slash of pink in her hair. The two of them like a pair of exotic birds dipping over the school's water fountains - you knew they would find each other. — Megan Abbott

It was as big as a box kite and mounted on a pole, gesticulating wildly with moving arms, vanes, wheels, and propellers larger and small. I'd never seen it. It was all different colors. It didn't resemble anything in particular, except at the top, where there was a woman's head. Attached to her hair were three reflectors. Shells and chimes hung around her neck. Even with half the moving parts stuck, a gust blowing through it set off a flurry of fluttering and shimmering and ringing, as if a flock of exotic birds was taking flight. — Paul Fleischman

It constantly amazes me that men and women wander the earth marveling at the highest mountains, the deepest ocean, the whitest sands, the most exotic islands, the most intriguing birds of the air and fish of the sea - and all the time never stop to marvel at themselves and realize their infinite potential as human beings. — Matthew Kelly

Somehow as children he and Tiger Lily had been shuttled together - both misfits or, as I liked to think of them, strange exotic birds, one too fierce to be hemmed in as a girl, and the other too hesitant to be respected as a boy. — Jodi Lynn Anderson

The neighbors are neglecting their exotic birds. — Jennifer Close

Girls are like exotic birds. They are pretty to look at but hard to catch. — Howie Dorough

Wild birds will kill exotic ones: the budgies and the lovebirds and the yellow canaries
escaped from their cages and hoping to get a taste of the sky
usually end up back on the ground, plucked raw by their more conformist cousins — Joanne Harris

The room smelled of lemon wax and the perfume she wore, something delicate and unassuming, not truly mirroring the complex woman she was. She would wear something hinting of roses, or more exotic blooms, a scent that teased the senses.
She hated the mirrors, so he had them removed. He found another desk in the attics, one more suited for a study, but she'd been overjoyed when first viewing it. There was enough space in the sitting room, and that's where it rested, beneath the window looking out over Huntly's glen.
He wished this view of the lake. She would have liked the sight of the birds soaring over the trees or the pale light of dawn reflected in the water. — Karen Ranney

She had lived in that house fourteen years, and every year she had demanded of John that she be given a pet of some strange exotic breed. Not that she did not have enough animals. She had collected several wild and broken animals that, in a way, had become exotic by their breaking. Their roof would have collapsed from the number of birds who might have lived there if the desert hadn't killed three- quarters of those that tried to cross it. Still every animal that came within a certain radius of that house was given a welcome
the tame, the half born, the wild, the wounded. — Michael Ondaatje

I look up at the ceiling, tracing the foliage of the wreath. Today it makes me think of a hat, the large-brimmed hats women used to wear at some period during the old days: hats like enormous halos, festooned with fruit and flowers, and the feathers of exotic birds; hats like an idea of paradise, floating just above the head, a thought solidified. — Margaret Atwood