Avian Communication Quotes

The stork is voiceless because there is really nothing to say.

I have a deep-seated respect for parrots. As gifted as I am with all other wildlife, parrots have this uncanny desire to kill me. I'm not sure why, but they're like my kryptonite!

Mice are terribly chatty. They will chat about anything, and if there is nothing to chat about, they will chat about having nothing to chat about. Compared to mice, robins are reserved.

And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like "Poo-tee-weet?

The brassy wood-pigeons Bubble their colourful voices, and the sun Rises upon a world well-tried and old.

I swear the sparrows called us ten kinds of idiot when we did it.

He spent a lot of time flying. He learnt to communicate with birds and discovered that their conversation was fantastically boring. It was all to do with wind speed, wing spans, power-to-weight ratios and a fair bit about berries. Unfortunately, he discovered, once you have learnt birdspeak you quickly come to realize that the air is full of it the whole time, just inane bird chatter. There is no getting away from it.

Was never secret history but birds tell it in the bowers.

Plumage features constitute a major component of courtship signals.

He learned to communicate with birds and discovered their conversation was fantastically boring. It was all to do with windspeed, wingspans, power-to-weight ratios and a fair bit about berries.

I wish we had all been born birds instead.

Birds... scream at the top of their lungs in horrified hellish rage every morning at daybreak to warn us all of the truth. They know the truth. Screaming bloody murder all over the world in our ears, but sadly we don't speak bird.

The cuckoos remain silent for a long time (for several seasons) until they are able to sing sweetly (in the Spring) so as to give joy to all.

For a bird, especially for the more musically inventive, song is the defining characteristic, the primary way by which it knows itself and is known by others. To lose its species song is to lose not just its identity but some part of its presence in the world.

The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.

They say the first of my kind was Alasdair, a human raised by hawks. She learned the languages of birds and was gifted with their form.