White Pigeon Quotes & Sayings

If you ever land in a situation you can't handle, call me." She let out a raspy laugh. "And you'll what? Ride in on your white horse and save me? From Afghanistan? Or Iraq? Or wherever else they're sending recently enlisted marines these days?" "Call, email, or send a letter. Hell, send a carrier pigeon. I don't care how you get in touch, or where I am. If you need me, I'll find a way to help. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing. You're like family to me, Josie. And I'm always here for you." "Like family?" She raised an eyebrow. "So you're doing this for Dominic? Because my brother is your BFF?" "No, I'm doing this because I care about you," he growled. She — Sara Jane Stone

When humans work, they frequently become unaware of their own body, their own senses, are surprised to find that their wrists ache or their backs are sore or their friend has left the building. It's as close to an out-of-body experience as can be achieved short of fifty volts, a circle of warding, a pigeon's claw cut from an albino female of purest white feathers, or a lot of mushrooms. — Kate Griffin

I have been feeding pigeons, thousands of them for years. But there was one, a beautiful bird, pure white with light grey tips on its wings; that one was different. It was a female. I had only to wish and call her and she would come flying to me. I loved that pigeon as a man loves a women, and she loved me. As long as I had her, there was a purpose to my life. — Nikola Tesla

At thirty-three the Whammer still enjoyed exceptional eyesight. He saw the ball spin off Roy's fingertips and it reminded him of a white pigeon he had kept as a boy, that he would send into flight by flipping it into the air. The ball flew at him and he was conscious of its bird-form and white flapping wings, until it suddenly disappeared from view. He heard a noise like the bang of a firecracker at his feet and Sam had the ball in his mitt. Unable to believe his ears he heard Mercy intone a reluctant strike. — Bernard Malamud

Drenched in British purples, I have offered up my tones: pigeon breast, hind belly, balky mule lung, monkey bottom pink, lapis lazuli and malachite, excited nymph thigh, panther pee-pee, high-smelling hen hair, hedgehog in aspic, barrel-maker's brothel, revered rose, monkeybush, turkey-like white, sly violet, page's slipper, immaculate nun spring, unspeakable red, Ensor azure, affected yellow, mummy skull, rock-hard gray, brunt celadon, shop soiled smoke ring. — James Ensor

Books bombarded his shoulders, his arms, his upturned face. A book lit, almost obediently, like a white pigeon, in his hands, wings fluttering. — Ray Bradbury

Kiss me!" I pleaded. "Please, Pigeon! I told him no!"
Abby shoved me away. "Leave me alone, Travis!"
She shouldered passed me, but I grabbed her wrist. She kept her arm straight, outstretched behind her, but she didn't turn around.
"I am begging you." I fell to my knees, her hand still in mine. My breath puffed out in white steam as I spoke, reminding me of the cold. "I'm begging you, Abby. Don't do this."
Abby glanced back, and then her eyes drifted down her arm to mine, seeing the tattoo on my wrist. The tattoo that bared her name.
She looked away, toward the cafeteria. "Let me go, Travis."
The air knocked out of me, and with all hope obliterated, I relaxed my hand, and let her slip out of my fingers.
Abby didn't look back as she walked away from me, and my palms fell flat on the sidewalk. She wasn't coming back. She didn't want me anymore, and there was nothing I could do or say to change it. — Jamie McGuire

A Thaum is the basic unit of magical strength. It has been universally established as the amount of magic needed to create one small white pigeon or three normal-sized billiard balls. — Terry Pratchett

Even after she was gone, he passed her place each day:
something white in a high window - not a face,
but the white belly of a pigeon beating its wings
against the pane in the boarded-up house. — Zoe Brigley

*Gone are the days of Benton's childhood, when his sticky fingers dung through caramel-glazed popcorn and peanuts for treasure, such as a plastic whistle or BB game or, best of all, the magic decoding ring that little Benton wore on his index finger, pretending it empowered him to know wgat people thought, what they would do and which monster he would defeat on his next secret mission.
*The toy surprises inside are games printed on folded white paper, cheap as hell, and require the IF of a pigeon. — Patricia Cornwell