The crow in his purity I believe is seen and heard only in the North. Before you reach the Potomac there is an infusion of a weaker element, the fish-crow, whose helpless feminine call contrasts strongly with the hearty masculine caw of the original Simon. – John Burroughs, “Winter Sunshine”

Everything perfect in its kind has to transcend its own kind, it must become something different and incomparable. In some notes the nightingale is still a bird; then it rises above its class and seems to suggest to every winged creature what singing is truly like. – Johann von Goethe

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