“Lo — a black line of birds in wavering thread
Bore him the greetings of the deathless dead!”

— Emma Lazarus

The Cranes of Ibicus http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cranes-of-ibicus/

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "Lo — a black line of birds in wavering thread Bore him the greetings of the deathless dead!" by Emma Lazarus?

Emma Lazarus 15

American poet 1849–1887

Related quotes

“Because the line between,
Wrong and right,
Is the width of a thread,
From a spider's web.
The piano keys are black and white,
But they sound like a million colours in your mind.”

Katie Melua (1984) British singer-songwriter

Spider's Web, from Piece By Piece (2005)
Lyrics

“A Sonnet is a moment's monument,—
Memorial from the Soul's eternity
To one dead deathless hour.”

Dante Gabriel Rossetti The House of Life

Introductory Sonnet.
The House of Life (1870—1881)

“Every bird that flies has the thread of the infinite in its claw.”

Victor Hugo book Les Misérables

Source: Les Misérables

“In one dim scene he saw himself lying charred and dead; he had tried to run through the line, out the exit.
But that scene was vague. One wavering, indistinct still out of many. The inflexible path along which he moved would not deviate in that direction. It would not turn him that way.”

Philip K. Dick (1928–1982) American author

The Golden Man (1954)
Context: In one dim scene he saw himself lying charred and dead; he had tried to run through the line, out the exit.
But that scene was vague. One wavering, indistinct still out of many. The inflexible path along which he moved would not deviate in that direction. It would not turn him that way. The golden figure in that scene, the miniature doll in that room, was only distantly related to him. It was himself, but a far-away self. A self he would never meet. He forgot it and went on to examine the other tableau.
The myriad of tableaux that surrounded him were an elaborate maze, a web which he now considered bit by bit. He was looking down into a doll's house of infinite rooms, rooms without number, each with its furniture, its dolls, all rigid and unmoving. <!-- The same dolls and furniture were repeated in many. He, himself, appeared often. The two men on the platform. The woman. Again and again the same combinations turned up; the play was redone frequently, the same actors and props moved around in all possible ways.
Before it was time to leave the supply closet, Cris Johnson had examined each of the rooms tangent to the one he now occupied. He had consulted each, considered its contents thoroughly.
He pushed the door open and stepped calmly out into the hall. He knew exactly where he was going. And what he had to do. Crouched in the stuffy closet, he had quietly and expertly examined each miniature of himself, observed which clearly-etched configuration lay along his inflexible path, the one room of the doll house, the one set out of legions, toward which he was moving.

“though every friend be fled,
Lo! Envy waits, that lover of the dead.”

Thomas Tickell (1685–1740) English poet and man of letters

On the Death of the Earl of Cadogan.

“Yes, of course you want every shot to be a duck-bird [a dead bird? ]”

Johannes Warnardus Bilders (1811–1890) painter from the Northern Netherlands

version in original Dutch: Ja ja, gij zoudt wel willen dat ieder schot een eendvogel was. (wanneer een schilderij niet bevredigend eindigde)
Quoted by Maria Bilders-van Bosse, in her letter to A.C. Loffelt, 23 June 1895; from an excerpt of this letter https://rkd.nl/nl/explore/excerpts/763 in RKD-Archive, The Hague
his comment, when a painting was not good, at the end
posthumous quotes