“I am not left winged, I am not right winged. I am straight forward.”
Rita Verdonk (1955) Dutch politician
Slogan used on Rita Verdonk's weblog http://www.ritaverdonk.net/ retrieved 25 November 2007.
Source: The Darkest Surrender
“I am not left winged, I am not right winged. I am straight forward.”
Rita Verdonk (1955) Dutch politician
Slogan used on Rita Verdonk's weblog http://www.ritaverdonk.net/ retrieved 25 November 2007.
“I am a liberal of extreme left-wing.”
Caetano Veloso (1942) Brazilian composer, singer, guitarist, writer, and political activist
O Globo Journal, 12.06.2007
“If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.”
Anne Rice book The Vampire Armand
Source: The Vampire Armand
“Though I am young, I scorn to flit
On the wings of borrowed wit.”
George Wither (1588–1667) English poet
The Shepherd’s Hunting (printed 1615); reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).
“Everyone in me is a bird
I am beating all my wings”
Anne Sexton (1928–1974) poet from the United States
Source: Love Poems
“Am I that imagine this angel less-satisfied?
Are the wings his, the lapis-haunted air?”
Wallace Stevens (1879–1955) American poet
Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction (1942), It Must Give Pleasure
Context: What am I to believe? If the angel in his cloud,
Serenely gazing at the violent abyss,
Plucks on his strings to pluck abysmal glory, Leaps downward through evening’s revelations, and
On his spredden wings, needs nothing but deep space,
Forgets the gold centre, the golden destiny,Grows warm in the motionless motion of his flight,
Am I that imagine this angel less-satisfied?
Are the wings his, the lapis-haunted air?
“O dream on your black wings
you come when I am sleeping.”
Sappho (-630–-570 BC) ancient Greek lyric poet
The Willis Barnstone translations, Dream
“A bird is safe in its nest - but that is not what its wings are made for.”
Amit Ray (1960) Indian author
World Peace: The Voice of a Mountain Bird (2014) https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=KkYtBgAAQBAJ,
“His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings.”
Ernest Hemingway book A Moveable Feast
An assessment of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ch. 17
A Moveable Feast (1964)
Context: His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.