A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his days work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace. – William Ernest Henley

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. – Henry Ward Beecher

We like to praise birds for flying. But how much of it is actually flying, and how much of it is just sort of coasting from the previous flap? – Jack Handey, Deeper Thoughts: All New, All Crispy