Avian Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Avian. Here they are! All 105 of them:

If by 'miracle kids' you mean innocent test-tube babies whose DNA was forcibly unraveled and merged with two percent avian genes, yeah, I guess that would be us," I said. "Because it's a miracle that we're not complete nut jobs and mutant disasters.
James Patterson (The Final Warning (Maximum Ride, #4))
It sucked, but it was way cool at the same time," Gazzy said. "I felt like the Blue Angels!" "Yeah, except the blue Angels are an extremely well funded, well equipped, well trained, well fed, and no doubt squeaky-clean group of crack navy pilots," I said. "And we're a bunch of unfunded, unequipped, semitrained, not nearly well fed enough, and filthy mongrel avian-human hybrids. But other than that, it's exactly the same.
James Patterson (Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports (Maximum Ride, #3))
The most valuable possession my master owns is his submissive. I will take great care that no harm comes to my master's submissive whenever he is not there to watch over me himself.
Kim Dare (Duck! (Avian Shifters, #1))
When Sabine parted her lips to argue, Lanthe said, “This baby bird’s gotta fly, sis.” “Great,” Sabine drawled. “She’s already speaking in avian metaphors.
Kresley Cole (Dark Skye (Immortals After Dark, #15))
Soft feathers cannot make a cruel bird kind
Munia Khan
Fang looked at the newest bird kid. Dylan was an inch or two taller than he was, and somewhat heavier built, though he still had the long, lean look of a human-avian hybrid-you couldn't make bricks fly.
James Patterson (Fang (Maximum Ride, #6))
We’ll always have each other.  As long as we have that, it will always be Eden.
Keary Taylor (Eden (The Eden Trilogy, #1))
Sun-struck, stuck in mid tropic strut, it sometimes stands as if considering how to cool avian plastic, dive into the mown lagoon of lawn; how take flight on dayglow flap- doodle wings, no matter if it is ball-bald going nowhere fast.
Joyce Thomas (Skins: Poems)
I watch my loved ones weep with sorrow, death's silent torment of no tomorrow. I feel their hearts breaking, I sense their despair, United in misery, the grief that they share. How do I show that, I am not gone... but the essence of life's everlasting song Why do they wee? Why do they cry? I'm alive in the wind and I am soaring high. I am sparkling light dancing on streams, a moment of warmth in the fays of sunbeams. The coolness of rain as it falls on your face, the whisper of leaves as wind rushes with haste. Eternal Song, a requiem by Avian of Celieria from Crown of Crystal Flame by C.L. Wilson
C.L. Wilson (Crown of Crystal Flame (Tairen Soul, #5))
What is a fleecy as a cloud, As majestic and shimmering as the breaking dawn, As gorgeous as the sun the sun is strong? Why, it's ME! Twilight, the Great Gray, Tiger of the sky --- Light of the Night, Most beautiful, An avian delight. I beam --- I gleam --- I'm a livin' flying dream. Watch me roll off this cloud and pop on back. This is flying. I ain't no hack.
Kathryn Lasky (The Journey (Guardians of Ga'Hoole, #2))
You know Morse Code?” Avian asked as we walked up. “My grandpa thought it was a fun game when I was little,” West said as he rubbed his eyes again. ”That’s a scientist’s version of fun for you.
Keary Taylor (Eden (The Eden Trilogy, #1))
Blood is everywhere.. Vultures take shelter beneath the tanks; for the fumed sky is unsafe for their avian flight to prey on the Palestinian flesh.
Munia Khan
A bird, unable to fly, is still a bird; but a human unable to love is an inexpensive stone: like a piece of uric acid stone
Munia Khan
Jesus, you'd think the Black Death was sweeping the globe every three months or so...ebola, SARS, avian flu. You know how many people made money on those scares? Shit, I made my first million on useless antiradiation pills during dirty bomb scares.
Max Brooks (World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War)
If he was in danger of anything at all, it was spontaneous submissive combustion due to his master’s teasing.
Kim Dare (Duck! (Avian Shifters, #1))
No avian society ever develops space travel because it's impossible to focus on calculus when you could be outside flying.
XKCD
If anything was home in this wreck of a world it was Avian.
Keary Taylor (Eden (The Eden Trilogy, #1))
You may be the only avian I’ve ever met who can look happier scrubbing floors than surrounded by luxury.
Kim Dare (Duck! (Avian Shifters #1))
Of all the strands in Operation Fortitude, none was quite so bizarre, so wholly unlikely, as the great pigeon double cross, the first and only avian deception scheme ever attempted.
Ben Macintyre (Double Cross: The True Story of the D-Day Spies)
It would be so much easier if I didnt have to make either choice. Picking neither and going back to the way I was just a few months previous would have been so much simpler. But something inside me had changed. There was no going back now. I couldnt live the same without them.
Keary Taylor (Eden (The Eden Trilogy, #1))
Avian was home and made me feel secure and right. Everything felt okay when I was with Avian. But at the same time, he was still so much older than I was. And he would be tied to Eden in such a permanent way.
Keary Taylor (Eden (The Eden Trilogy, #1))
In New York, the European starling—now a ubiquitous avian pest from Alaska to Mexico—was introduced because someone thought the city would be more cultured if Central Park were home to each bird mentioned in Shakespeare.
Alan Weisman (The World Without Us)
We didn't speak our truest thoughts, and paraphrased our souls until we didn't know our feelings, and so were strangers to ourselves.
Adam Novy (The Avian Gospels, Book II)
Birds will give you a window, if you allow them. They will show you secrets from another world– fresh vision that, though it is avian, can accompany you home and alter your life. They will do this for you even if you don't know their names– though such knowing is a thoughtful gesture. They will do this for you if you watch them.
Lyanda Lynn Haupt (Rare Encounters with Ordinary Birds)
Maybe I want everything to be as simple as two guys in bed together,” he said. “As simple as pleasing the man I belong to and making him feel better when he’s in pain.
Kim Dare (Magpie (Avian Shifters, #2))
He was so cheerful all the time it seemed like he might have brain damage.
Nicole Conway (Avian (The Dragonrider Chronicles))
If ever there was an avian candidate for psychotherapy, the male blue heron is our nominee.
Carl Sagan (Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors)
You cant have both. Avian was right. Even though I didnt know how to handle feeling like this, I knew what I had been doing was wrong. I couldn't have both. It was unfair to both of them. And it was tearing me into two people. But how was I supposed to choose? I felt a tie to both of them, a tie so solid I wasnt sure that even I was strong enough to sever it.
Keary Taylor (Eden (The Eden Trilogy, #1))
On the fifth night of our search, I see a plesiosaur. It is a megawatt behemoth, bronze and blue-white, streaking across the sea floor like a torpid comet. Watching it, I get this primordial deja vu, like I'm watching a dream return to my body. It wings towards me with a slow, avian grace. Its long neck is arced in an S-shaped curve; its lizard body is the size of Granana's carport. Each of its ghost flippers pinwheels colored light. I try to swim out of its path, but the thing's too big to avoid. That Leviathan fin, it shivers right through me. It's a light in my belly, cold and familiar. And I flash back to a snippet from school, a line from a poem or a science book, I can't remember which: 'There are certain prehistoric things that swim beyond extinction'.
Karen Russell (St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves)
My eyes flipped open at exactly six A.M. This was no avian fluttering of the lashes, no gentle blink toward consciousness. The awakening was mechanical. A spooky ventriloquist-dummy click of the lids: The world is black and then, showtime! 6-0-0 the clock said -in my face, first thing I saw. 6-0-0. It felt different. I rarely woke at such a rounded time. I was a man of jagged risings: 8:43, 11:51, 9:26. My life was alarmless.
Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl)
Hey, who are you?” he quacked. “Where are you? What’s going on and is there any way of stopping it?” “Please relax,” said the voice pleasantly, like a stewardess in an airliner with only one wing and two engines, one of which is on fire, “you are perfectly safe.” “But that’s not the point!” raged Ford. “The point is that I am now a perfectly safe penguin, and my colleague here is rapidly running out of limbs!” “It’s all right, I’ve got them back now,” said Arthur. “Two to the power of fifty thousand to one against and falling,” said the voice. “Admittedly,” said Arthur, “they’re longer than I usually like them, but …” “Isn’t there anything,” squawked Ford in avian fury, “you feel you ought to be telling us?
Douglas Adams (The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy #1-5))
They left Puonvangi at the 303rd in the company of a riotous party of Binlisi conventioneers. The Birilisi were an avian species and much given to excessive narcoticism; they and Puonvangi were guaranteed to get on. There was much fluttering.
Iain M. Banks
One of the most remarkable of all ornithological discoveries was the realisation that birds in temperate regions undergo enormous seasonal changes in their internal organs...Perhaps the most far-reaching discovery relating to these changes was the finding in the 1970s that parts of the brain also varied in size across the year...The centres in the avian brain that control the acquisition and delivery of song in male birds shrink at the end of the breeding season and grow again in the following year.
Tim Birkhead (Bird Sense: What It's Like to Be a Bird)
I’ll happily live my whole life here as a butt-kicking swordsman!
Felicia Harper (World of Avian)
Somewhere along the way we identified ourselves with them, and came to associate birds with the realm of spirits, as opposed to that of bodies and their carnal appetites.
Graeme Gibson (The Bedside Book of Birds: An Avian Miscellany)
If you’re constantly worrying about something a hundred miles away, you’re liable to get killed by something two feet in front of you.
Nicole Conway (Avian (The Dragonrider Chronicles))
You’re mine, fledgling. You belong to me—body and soul. I own you. Never doubt that.” “Yes, sir.
Kim Dare (Duck! (Avian Shifters #1))
You’re you, and you’re mine. Nothing else matters.
Kim Dare (Duck! (Avian Shifters #1))
Walk on became her credo; she repeated it to herself every morning upon deciding to get up and exist for one more day. Her days began before dawn, when the birds started arguing. Tess would eat whatever scrap of food she had left and listen to animated avian conversation all around her. Birdsong was a language, unquestionably. She could discern calls and answers, aggression and capitulation and seduction. Warnings. Rapture. She wondered how long it would take to learn such a language without the advantages she’d had with Pathka. If you’d paid as much attention to family and duty as you paid to dumb animals, said her mother’s voice in her mind, you might not have been such a disappointing daughter. That kind of thought was her cue to get going. “Walking on now,” Tess told Mama-in-her-head, kicking dirt over last night’s ashes. “I think I’ll live one more day.
Rachel Hartman (Tess of the Road (Tess of the Road, #1))
Youngest Brother, swan's wing, where one arm should be, yours the shirt of nettles short a sleeve and me with no time left to finish -- I didn't mend you all the way back into man though I managed for your brothers; they flit again from court to playing-courts to courting, while you station yourself, wing folded from sight, avian eye to the outside, no rebuke meant but love's. Was it better then, the living on the water, the taking to air...? ("Ever After," from the book 'The Poets' Grimm')
Debora Greger
The thing is, Max,” he said, tons of heart-wringing emotion in his eyes, “you’re even more special than I always told you. You see, you were created for a reason. Kept alive for a purpose, a special purpose.” You mean besides seeing how well insane scientists could graft avian DNA into a human egg? He took a breath, looking deep into my eyes. I coldly shut down every good memory I had of him, every laugh we’d shared, every happy moment, every thought that he was like a dad to me. “Max, that reason, that purpose is: You are supposed to save the world.” 62 Okay, I couldn’t help it. My jaw dropped open. I shut it again quickly. Well. This would certainly give weight to my ongoing struggle to have the bathroom first in the morning.
James Patterson (The Angel Experiment (Maximum Ride, #1))
The two of them had fallen into the habit of bartering knowledge whenever she visited. He schooled her in jazz, in bebop and exotic bossa nova, playing his favorites for her while he painted- Slim Gaillard, Rita Reys, King Pleasure, and Jimmy Giuffre- stabbing the air with his brush when there was a particular passage he wanted her to note. In turn, she showed him the latest additions to her birding diary- her sketches of the short-eared owl and American wigeon, the cedar waxwing and late warblers. She explained how the innocent-looking loggerhead shrike killed its prey by biting it in the back of the neck, severing the spinal cord before impaling the victim on thorns or barbed wire and tearing it apart. "Good grief," he'd said, shuddering. "I'm in the clutches of an avian Vincent Price.
Tracy Guzeman (The Gravity of Birds)
The current popular image of Zeus as a cheerful, avuncular type perplexes me. I know it comes from a silly kids’ movie, but I’m not sure they could have gotten it more wrong. Zeus was never avuncular. He killed his father, raped his sister, and then married her, calculating that sanctified incest was marginally better than the unsanctified kind. After that he conducted a series of what are generously called “affairs” with mortal women, though sometimes tales will admit he “ravished” them, which is to say he raped them. He turned into a swan once for a girl with an avian fetish, and another time he manifested as a golden shower over a woman imprisoned in a hole in the ground. His actions clearly paint him as skeevy to the max and the most despicable of examples. He’s not the kind of god that belongs in kids’ films. He’s the kind that releases the kraken.
Kevin Hearne (Hunted (The Iron Druid Chronicles, #6))
If you happened to find yourself at the foot of the stairs in the White House on a typical afternoon sometime around 1804 or 1805, you might have noticed a perky bird in a pearl-gray coat ascending the steps behind Thomas Jefferson, hop by hop, as the president retired to his chambers for a siesta. This was Dick. Although the president didn’t dignify his pet mockingbird with one of the fancy Celtic or Gallic names he gave his horses and sheepdogs—Cucullin, Fingal, Bergère—still it was a favorite pet. “I sincerely congratulate you on the arrival of the Mocking bird,” Jefferson wrote to his son-in-law, who had informed him of the advent of the first resident mockingbird. “Learn all the children to venerate it as a superior being in the form of a bird.” Dick may well have been one of the two mockingbirds Jefferson bought in 1803. These were pricier than most pet birds ($10 or $15 then—around $125 now) because their serenades included not only renditions of all the birds of the local woods, but also popular American, Scottish, and French songs. Not everyone would pick this bird for a friend. Wordsworth called him the “merry mockingbird.” Brash, yes. Saucy and animated. But merry? His most common call is a bruising tschak!—a kind of unlovely avian expletive that one naturalist described as a cross between a snort of disgust and a hawking of phlegm. But Jefferson adored Dick for his uncommon intelligence, his musicality, and his remarkable ability to mimic. As the president’s friend Margaret Bayard Smith wrote, “Whenever he was alone he opened the cage and let the bird fly about the room. After flitting for a while from one object to another, it would alight on his table and regale him with its sweetest notes, or perch on his shoulder and take its food from his lips.” When the president napped, Dick would sit on his couch and serenade him with both bird and human tunes.
Jennifer Ackerman (The Genius of Birds)
a study by the National Audubon Society revealed Tuesday. The seven-year study of North American birds found that more than 300 avian species - nearly half the birds on the continent - will be in dire straits by 2080 unless something is done to reduce carbon emissions.
Anonymous
The day on which he was buried was beautifully sunny. No matter where one looked, the sky had a clean-washed appearance. There was not a trace of a cloud to be seen anywhere in its vast expanse. It was one of those days that made one want to open doors and gates to release the last traces of winter, to watch them disappear like thin wisps of smoke into the farthest reaches of the sky. It is true that older people still wore their winter coats, but they no longer wore them buttoned up. As for the children, they seemed to have grown wings at their shoulders and wouldn’t think of wearing coats any longer. They swarmed into the streets on that day with such lively, untrammelled spirits that one might have thought they were a flock of swallows readying themselves for flight—straight or zigzag, high or low, in avian madness. It was, in short, a day unfit for sorrow.
Der Nister (The Family Mashber)
scares—SARS, Hong Kong and avian flus, and Japanese encephalitis—originated in Asia, he noted. “If you look at global trends, almost all of the economic growth and all of the urban population growth in the next 20 years will occur in the countries and cities of Asia.
Linda Marsa (Fevered: Why a Hotter Planet Will Hurt Our Health-and How We Can Save Ourselves)
Old news: Russia is carnivorous.---New news: now carnivorous beyond its borders. Sort-of-new news: this country never stopped being carnivorous.---America's eye, more technologically avian, looks into every home.---News: we might need a different word than home.
Olga Livshin (A Life Replaced: Poems with Translations from Anna Akhmatova and Vladimir Gandelsman)
If owls were the professors of the avian kingdom, then kookaburras, I thought, might well be the gym teachers.
David Sedaris (Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls)
Yes good one- hold on tight- to ideas. At times, since we are talking so much about birds and all things avian, these flighty things do have a tendency to spread their gossamer wings and take flight. So you haven’t even begun to see it and it disappears from your view. At times you don’t even know how many of these frisky things you thought of and they instantly frolicked their way into some wonderland. There they remain latent. Sometimes for mere moments, sometimes days, sometimes months and years. And then in a flash. They come back without warning, at times stealthily, in our most unguarded moments- in bed, polishing shoes, rolling out a roti, driving or pooping and you are not prepared. They settle tentatively on your sleepy eyes for a second and before you know it, fly past you in a flash again, good for you if you hold them then and there, for if you think you will sit yourself down one day with the wrong end of the pen in your mouth, or the laptop loaded with the works, or the dream paints on the palette, to capture what you saw in your mind’s stratosphere- you just blink and find it’s just a blankness you see, no matter how hard you try, a blankness that stares with a baffling obduracy. At times you even forget that you forgot. The thought had yet not entered your conscious mind- it was just hovering between the sleeping world and the awake, and just falls off the edge. Never makes it. Yes they are flighty things.” She rounded it with a peal of laughter, amused with the little story she had concocted.
Sakoon Singh (In The Land of The Lovers)
We might then entertain a set of crazy and not-so-crazy questions: Did the typical American diet play any role in engendering the widespread susceptibility to the propaganda leading up to the invasion of Iraq? Do sand storms make a difference to the spread of so-called sectarian violence? Does mercury help enact autism? In what ways does the effect on sensibility of a video game exceed the intentions of its designers and users? Can a hurricane bring down a president? Can HIV mobilize homophobia or an evangelical revival? Can an avian virus jump from birds to humans and create havoc for systems of health care and international trade and travel?
Jane Bennett (Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things (a John Hope Franklin Center Book))
Frank’s reflections were disturbed at this point by George T. Nelson’s parakeet, Tammy Faye, who had picked the most inauspicious moment of its small avian life to burst into song.
Stephen King (Needful Things)
But a knowledge of all studies carried out on a new product and comparison with already existent medications are indispensable for doctors to be able to prescribe the most effective medicine. Today, doctors have only results that are pre-selected by laboratories. In fact, the few systematic studies, long and costly, that have been carried out indicate that the majority of new medications placed on the market are no more effective than those that exist already. And, sometimes, they are even less effective. We’ll cite a revealing example, that of Tamiflu. In 2005, fearing an avian flu pandemic, governments all over the world spent billions of dollars to buy and store this medication purported to reduce complications from flu, which can be fatal. In England, there was enough to treat 80% of the population. However, to date, Roche, the manufacturer, has published no data showing that Tamiflu effectively reduced the rate of pneumonia and death. Roche’s Internet site, however, announces that this medication reduces complications by 67%.
Matthieu Ricard (Altruism: The Power of Compassion to Change Yourself and the World)
There is also the danger that someone could create a doomsday weapon by bioengineering some existing disease—Ebola, HIV, avian flu—and making it more lethal or causing it to spread more quickly and easily.
Michio Kaku (The Future of Humanity: Terraforming Mars, Interstellar Travel, Immortality, and Our Destiny BeyondEarth)
Worldwide, infectious diseases remain leading causes of death and serious impediments to economic growth and political stability. Newly emerging diseases such as Ebola, Lassa fever, West Nile virus, avian flu, Zika, and dengue present new challenges, while familiar afflictions such as tuberculosis and malaria have reemerged, often in menacing drug-resistant forms.
Frank M. Snowden III (Epidemics and Society: From the Black Death to the Present)
In the U.S., a woman is known as a 'broad' and, when there, I'm more broad-minded. In the U.K., a woman is known as a 'bird' and, when there, I'm an eagle-eyed if not avid avian attendee, in fact, quite the ornithologist.
Martin H. Samuel
You can trust my word,” Everet said. “No one will raise a hand to punish you while you belong to me. Not me, not anyone else.
Kim Dare (Magpie (Avian Shifters, #2))
In a final flourish, drawing on his extensive knowledge of avian anatomy, he presents a critique of the supposed morphology of divine beings: “If angels had any reality, they would be very clumsy and awkward fliers with a slow heavy flight, lacking as they are in aerodynamic shape.
Tim Birkhead (Ten Thousand Birds: Ornithology since Darwin)
A brand-new, highly effective anti-flu drug that had potential for massive sales. With the new bird flu scare, Merwyn stood to make a bundle off of the ensuing panic. With a 98 percent profit margin and skyrocketing demand, Merwyn couldn’t lose. Andrew alone stood to make millions in stock options and bonus incentives for brokering the deal. It was like a dream come true: the global spread of the avian flu virus, millions infected, a few hundred thousand dead and millions more taking Preva-Flu by the $80 packet.
Theresa MacPhail (The Eye of the Virus)
rumbling over the supposed destructive power of the H5N1 strain of avian flu and the predicted crisis had still not manifested itself. Until three days ago, Greg would have said with confidence that it was simply a case of Chicken Little and a whole bunch of epidemiologists and public health workers worried over a sky that remained perfectly intact.
Theresa MacPhail (The Eye of the Virus)
4.1 Introduction A flying bird generates lift forces to counteract gravity and thrust forces to overcome drag. The magnitude of these forces can be crudely approximated using elementary physical principles. Steady flight in still air at a uniform speed and at one altitude is the simplest case. It requires balanced forces where lift equals weight and thrust equals drag as well as balanced moments of these forces about the centre of gravity. Under these relatively simple conditions the magnitude of the mechanical power involved in the generation of lift and thrust in relation to speed can be estimated. The power to generate lift is inversely proportional to flight speed and the power needed for thrust increases with the speed cubed. The total mechanical power is the sum of the lift and thrust powers and hence follows a U-shaped curve if plotted against speed. A U-shaped power curve implies that there are two optimal speeds, one where the power is minimal and a higher one where the amount of work per unit distance reaches the lowest value. The question is, does this U-shaped power curve really exist in birds?
John J. Videler (Avian Flight (Oxford Ornithology Series))
For me, that afternoon, the Marvelous Spatuletail represented something far beyond a single bird. It distilled the whole experience of Peru, incarnated in avian form— all of the rough, raw material of an entire country compressed into one bright and shining diamond.
Noah Strycker (Birding Without Borders: An Obsession, a Quest, and the Biggest Year in the World)
As an aside, don’t burn two truckloads of drugs in an area that avians fly over at low altitude.
Joseph Kainz (Sector 12 and the Art of Dying)
Avian imagery indicates flightiness.
Alice Kaltman (Staggerwing)
Something about the gaping hole in the fabric of the cosmos gave him the chills. He leaned over the edge of the opening, expecting to find birds, or similar avian creations of the night’s sky. Instead, he was met with a swarm of unspeakable horrors; winged, pitiful and grotesquely malformed, and to his great stupor, he noticed they had human faces and that they suffered. And as they poured out of the Well of Making, like children from the womb of the eternal feminine, these luciferin creatures spilled onto the world, shrieking in existential agony, for they knew the pain of their mortality.
Louise Blackwick (The Underworld Rhapsody)
If you don't see birds, try calling them. You don't need to have a bird-calling whistle, and you don't even have to know any special calls. One sound that attracts avians: Call "pish, pish, pish" several times. Another is loudly kissing the back of your hand.
Karen Berger (Hiking & Backpacking A Complete Guide)
In recent weeks, dead birds with the avian flu strain have turned up in Suffolk, England, Germany, and at a Grayson chicken farm in Tennessee, increasing fears of a possible pandemic.
Paul Tremblay (The Cabin at the End of the World)
The birds had multiplied. She'd installed rows upon rows of floating melamine shelves above shoulder height to accommodate the expression of her once humble collection. Though she'd had bird figurines all over the apartment, the bulk of her prized collection was confined to her bedroom because it had given her joy to wake up to them every morning. Before I'd left, I had a tradition of gifting her with bird figurines. It began with a storm petrel, a Wakamba carving of ebony wood from Kenya I had picked up at the museum gift shop from a sixth-grade school field trip. She'd adored the unexpected birthday present, and I had hunted for them since. Clusters of ceramic birds were perched on every shelf. Her obsession had brought her happiness, so I'd fed it. The tiki bird from French Polynesia nested beside a delft bluebird from the Netherlands. One of my favorites was a glass rainbow macaw from an Argentinian artist that mimicked the vibrant barrios of Buenos Aires. Since the sixth grade, I'd given her one every year until I'd left: eight birds in total. As I lifted each member of her extensive bird collection, I imagined Ma-ma was with me, telling a story about each one. There were no signs of dust anywhere; cleanliness had been her religion. I counted eighty-eight birds in total. Ma-ma had been busy collecting while I was gone. I couldn't deny that every time I saw a beautiful feathered creature in figurine form, I thought of my mother. If only I'd sent her one, even a single bird, from my travels, it could have been the precursor to establishing communication once more. Ma-ma had spoken to her birds often, especially when she cleaned them every Saturday morning. I had imagined she was some fairy-tale princess in the Black Forest holding court over an avian kingdom. I was tempted to speak to them now, but I didn't want to be the one to convey the loss of their queen. Suddenly, however, Ma-ma's collection stirred. It began as a single chirp, a mournful cry swelling into a chorus. The figurines burst into song, tiny beaks opening, chests puffed, to release a somber tribute to their departed beloved. The tune was unfamiliar, yet its melancholy was palpable, rising, surging until the final trill when every bird bowed their heads toward the empty bed, frozen as if they hadn't sung seconds before. I thanked them for the happiness they'd bestowed on Ma-ma.
Roselle Lim (Natalie Tan's Book of Luck and Fortune)
I was too abstract. I was not worthy of respect. There…was a madness…I was mad. I committed a heinous act, a heinous act…” His words broke down into avian moans. “What did you do?” Isaac steeled himself to hear of some atrocity. “This language cannot express my crime. In my tongue…” Yagharek stopped for a moment. “I will try to translate. In my tongue they said…they were right…I was guilty of choice-theft…choice-theft in the second degree…with utter disrespect.
China Miéville (Perdido Street Station (New Crobuzon, #1))
For many years, the proposed influenza epicenter has been thought to be Southeast Asia. Farming practices there bring pigs, fowl, and people into close contact, allowing swine, avian, and human flu viruses to mix. The cycle is thought to be birds to pigs to humans.
Elizabeth T. Murane (Influenza: A Comprehensive Review)
own. Save a parrot’s tree. Save ten. Without our help, without needed legislative protection and worldwide consciousness-raising on their behalf, parrots will be lost in short years to come. It is fitting to end this book with this succinct summation from Wayne Pacelle, president of the Humane Society of the United States:   We are at an odd moment in history. There are more people in this country sensitized to animal protection issues than ever before. The Humane Society of the United States alone has 8 million members, and in addition, there are more than 5,000 other groups devoted to animal protection. At the same time, there are more animals being harmed than ever before—in industrial agriculture, research and testing, and the trade in wild animals. It is pitiful that our society still condones keeping millions of parrots and other wild birds as pets—wild animals that should be free to fly and instead are languishing in cages, with more being bred every day. It’s an issue of supply and demand and it’s also an issue of right and wrong. Animals suffer in confinement, and we have a moral obligation to spare them from needless suffering. Every person can make a difference every day for animals by making compassionate choices in the marketplace: don’t buy wild animals as pets, whether they are caught from the wild or bred in captivity. If we spare the life of just one animal, it’s a 100% positive impact for that creature. If we can solve the larger bird trade problem, it will be 100% positive for all parrots and other wild birds in the U.S. and beyond our borders. I believe we will look back in 50 -75 years and say “How could we as a society countenance things like the decades long imprisonment of extraordinarily intelligent animals like parrots?” Acknowledgments For this work, which took more than two and a half years to research and write, I amassed thousands of documents and conducted several hundred interviews with leading scientists, environmentalists, paleontologists, ecological economists, conservationists, global warming experts, federal law enforcement officers, animal control officers, avian researchers, avian rescuers, veterinarians, breeders, pet bird owners, bird clubs, pet bird industry executives and employees, sanctuaries and welfare organizations, legislators, and officials with the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES), and other sources in the United States and around the world.
Mira Tweti (Of Parrots and People: The Sometimes Funny, Always Fascinating, and Often Catastrophic Collision of Two Intelligent Species)
avian auguries
Anonymous
The pigeon had been unlucky. Ten birds had been on their way back to their Ilkley coop, flying in stolid, heavy formation; nine had returned home. The tenth, flying low over the moor at the base of this avian wedge, had plummeted soundlessly to the soil, its senses overwhelmed by the tendrils of consciousness which had enwrapped them. When the pigeon awoke, moments later, all of the rudimentary universal constructs which defined pigeonness in its brain had been carefully swept away, save one. The entity didn't need birdseed; it didn't need a pigeon coup in Ilkley; but it needed to fly. And it needed as much of the pigeon's cerebral activity as possible to focus on getting it to its desired location, which meant that for the first time in its life, this pigeon was reading roadsigns. It was also experiencing emotions for which it was somewhat unprepared, most notably an insistent, imperative yearning for Leeds United.
Windsor Holden (Elvis Lives on Planet Football)
He grabbed me with both hands and began pushing me backward. I lost my balance. The ledge was at an angle, and it was covered with loose gravel. I was less than a foot from the edge. It was at that very moment that the clouds parted. The September sun burst through. The entire world was illuminated. Time shattered into moments. I could see for a hundred miles in every direction. I could see mountain peeks and pristine lakes. And I could somehow feel as well as see the never-ending drop that toyed with me, ruffling my hair, pulling at my back, one step behind me.
Axel Avian (Agent Colt Shore Domino 29)
I'm not a spy, I'm an agent. There's a difference. I'm protecting you, not that you seem to be grateful." "You're protecting me. How old are you anyway?" "Fifteen." "Fifteen? You can't even drive!" "I can drive," I responded. It's just that certain officers say I may not drive." "WTF?" she said. "We're going into Afghanistan, and they've sent a pre-driver." Pre-driver? Was that even a word? And I was here specifically because Talya and Thorne were so young. "I thought you were sixteen," I said. "I can drive," she responded haughtily.
Axel Avian (Agent Colt Shore Domino 29)
A tractor-trailer overturned on U.S. 129 in Gainesville, Ga., “the poultry capital of the world,” back in January. None of the drivers involved in the accident were hurt, but avian passengers in the trailer were killed, and Sarah Segal has asked the Georgia Department of Transportation for permission to a build a ten-foot-tall tombstone in their honor. The monument would read, “In memory of the dozens of terrified chickens who died as a result of a truck crash. Go Vegan.” It would include an image of a chicken. PETA supports her initiative. Monty Python could not be reached for comment.
Anonymous
She told me she'd chosen something for the headstone, part of a verse from Psalm eighty-four- 'Yea, the sparrow hath found an house.' I never got to see it; the headstone was being engraved." "'And the swallow a nest for herself.' That was one of my mother's favorite psalms," he said.
Tracy Guzeman (The Gravity of Birds)
As avian diversity declined in the United States, specialist species like woodpeckers and rails disappeared, while generalist species like American robins and crows boomed. (Populations of American robins have grown by 50 to 100 percent over the past twenty-five years.)48 This reordering of the composition of the local bird population steadily increased the chances that the virus would reach a high enough concentration to spill over into humans.
Sonia Shah (Pandemic: Tracking Contagions, from Cholera to Ebola and Beyond)
For their size, crows are among the brainiest organisms on Earth, outclassing not only other birds (with the possible exception of parrots), but also most mammals.
Candace Savage (Crows: Encounters with the Wise Guys of the Avian World)
She has, however, noticed one important difference between crows and us: their families are generally more peaceful than ours sometimes are. No matter what the provocation, family members usually work out their differences without violence or any other signs of overt aggression.
Candace Savage (Crows: Encounters with the Wise Guys of the Avian World)
she was like the merlin in pursuit of its airborne quarry, perhaps the snow bunting or a small meadow pipit; the avian prey is nimble but so is the predatory merlin with its inexhaustible stamina and unparalleled agility – round and round it chases the pipit, and the two flying at speeds almost impossible for the observer to follow.
Gregory Figg
Such avian silence is punctuated only by the occasional plunk of a trout sinking an ovipositioning daddy longlegs, and the hysterical cackle of a Mallard that finally gets last night’s joke.
Bruce Beckham (Murder In School (DI Skelgill Investigates, #2))
Birds— and Territory My dad and I designed a house for a wren family when I was ten years old. It looked like a Conestoga wagon, and had a front entrance about the size of a quarter. This made it a good house for wrens, who are tiny, and not so good for other, larger birds, who couldn’t get in. My elderly neighbour had a birdhouse, too, which we built for her at the same time, from an old rubber boot. It had an opening large enough for a bird the size of a robin. She was looking forward to the day it was occupied. A wren soon discovered our birdhouse, and made himself at home there. We could hear his lengthy, trilling song, repeated over and over, during the early spring. Once he’d built his nest in the covered wagon, however, our new avian tenant started carrying small sticks to our neighbour’s nearby boot. He packed it so full that no other bird, large or small, could possibly get in. Our neighbour was not pleased by this pre- emptive strike, but there was nothing to be done about it. “If we take it down,” said my dad, “clean it up, and put it back in the tree, the wren will just pack it full of sticks again.” Wrens are small, and they’re cute, but they’re merciless. I had broken my leg skiing the previous winter— first time down the hill— and had received some money from a school insurance policy designed to reward unfortunate, clumsy children. I purchased a cassette recorder (a high- tech novelty at the time) with the proceeds. My dad suggested that I sit on the back lawn, record the wren’s song, play it back, and watch what happened. So,
Jordan B. Peterson (12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos)
Birds— and Territory My dad and I designed a house for a wren family when I was ten years old. It looked like a Conestoga wagon, and had a front entrance about the size of a quarter. This made it a good house for wrens, who are tiny, and not so good for other, larger birds, who couldn’t get in. My elderly neighbour had a birdhouse, too, which we built for her at the same time, from an old rubber boot. It had an opening large enough for a bird the size of a robin. She was looking forward to the day it was occupied. A wren soon discovered our birdhouse, and made himself at home there. We could hear his lengthy, trilling song, repeated over and over, during the early spring. Once he’d built his nest in the covered wagon, however, our new avian tenant started carrying small sticks to our neighbour’s nearby boot. He packed it so full that no other bird, large or small, could possibly get in. Our neighbour was not pleased by this pre- emptive strike, but there was nothing to be done about it. “If we take it down,” said my dad, “clean it up, and put it back in the tree, the wren will just pack it full of sticks again.” Wrens are small, and they’re cute, but they’re merciless. I had broken my leg skiing the previous winter— first time down the hill— and had received some money from a school insurance policy designed to reward unfortunate, clumsy children. I purchased a cassette recorder (a high- tech novelty at the time) with the proceeds. My dad suggested that I sit on the back lawn, record the wren’s song, play it back, and watch what happened. So, I went out into the bright spring sunlight and taped a few minutes of the wren laying furious claim to his territory with song. Then I let him hear his own voice. That little bird, one- third the size of a sparrow, began to dive- bomb me and my cassette recorder, swooping back and forth, inches from the speaker. We saw a lot of that sort of behaviour, even in the absence of the tape recorder. If a larger bird ever dared to sit and rest in any of the trees near our birdhouse there was a good chance he would get knocked off his perch by a kamikaze wren.
Jordan B. Peterson (12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos)
not just Machupo but also Marburg (1967), Lassa (1969), Ebola (1976, with Karl Johnson again prominently involved), HIV-1 (inferred in 1981, first isolated in 1983), HIV-2 (1986), Sin Nombre (1993), Hendra (1994), avian flu (1997), Nipah (1998), West Nile (1999), SARS (2003), and the much feared but anticlimactic swine flu of 2009.
David Quammen (Spillover: Animal Infections and the Next Human Pandemic)
You made a good choice for your Naga,” she assured me. “Danica is more graceful on a dais than half the serpents I know.” “Provided she isn’t blushing too brightly to see,” another quipped. “The first time I saw our queen perform, I thought she was a lost cause--far too uptight, like most avians--but I’m glad to be proved wrong.” I knew I was grinning. I had never doubted that Danica could learn the serpent art. Much of her loved my world; a part of her craved dance as surely as anyone else in this nest did. Perhaps that thirst came from her time dancing with the currents of air far above where we earthbound creatures roamed, or perhaps it came from the expressive nature her own world forced her to hide. Similar conversation flowed among us until A’isha’s musical voice commanded me, “Zane, admire your queen.” The words brought our attention to the back of the room, where Danica had emerged, looking so beautiful that she took my breath away. In response to her teacher’s words, Danica smiled and shook her head, causing her golden hair to ripple about her face. It made my heart speed and my breath still, as if I was afraid the next movement would shatter the world. She was a spark of fire in sha’Mehay. The serpiente dress rippled around the hawk’s long legs, the fabric so light it moved with the slightest shift of air. The bodice was burgundy silk; it laced up the front with a black ribbon, and though it was more modest than many dancers’ costumes, it still revealed enough cream-and-roses skin to tantalize the imagination. On Danica’s right temple, A’isha had painted a symbol for courage; beneath her left collarbone lay the symbols for san’Anhamirak, abandon and freedom. “You dance every day with the wind. This is not so different,” A’isha said encouragingly to Danica. “Now, look at the man you love and dance for him.” The nest hushed, faces turning to their Naga. Her cheeks held more color than usual, which A’isha addressed with a common dancers’ proverb. “There is no place for shame, Danica. If Anhamirak had not wanted beauty admired, she would not have made our eyes desire it. You are art.” Danica stepped out of A’isha’s grip. “If my mother could see me now,” she murmured, but she smiled as she said it.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
You made a good choice for your Naga,” she assured me. “Danica is more graceful on a dais than half the serpents I know.” “Provided she isn’t blushing too brightly to see,” another quipped. “The first time I saw our queen perform, I thought she was a lost cause--far too uptight, like most avians--but I’m glad to be proved wrong.” I knew I was grinning. I had never doubted that Danica could learn the serpent art. Much of her loved my world; a part of her craved dance as surely as anyone else in this nest did. Perhaps that thirst came from her time dancing with the currents of air far above where we earthbound creatures roamed, or perhaps it came from the expressive nature her own world forced her to hide. Similar conversation flowed among us until A’isha’s musical voice commanded me, “Zane, admire your queen.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
Now A’isha offered a small package wrapped in white silk. I opened it to find an old coin, strung on a leather cord. The faded symbol on it was barely recognizable as Ahnleh. Primarily, it was translated to mean Fate, though like any words in the old language, it had a million connotations. A’isha explained, “A gift, for your Naga. These coins were once worn by all of the Nesera’rsh, the priests and priestesses of Anhamirak during the time of Maeve’s coven. The Ahnleh came to be known as the Snakecharm, since Anhamirak’s symbol was a serpent. The Nesera’rsh are remembered only in nests such as this one now, but once, such a charm was the only coin a dancer needed throughout her life. It is said that even enemies at war would refuse to strike someone who wore an Ahnleh. And once…the Naga wore one, too. “The day Danica stood in the synkal and you announced her as your mate, I recognized in her the soul of a dancer. You two brought peace to two lands that had long before forgotten the word. It is past time for other bridges to be patched; sha’Mehay would be proud to see our Naga--and, I hope, the mother of your next Diente--wearing our Ahnleh once again.” “Thank you,” I answered solemnly. “I know Danica will be honored.” “It will be the nest’s gift of congratulations, as soon as that avian doctor admits the obvious,” she said with a grin.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
I don’t know much about your kind, but I know that a snake’s egg will grow too quickly and die if they’re too hot. Your palace doctor has confirmed that your young are the same way. That being so, imagine a serpiente child growing in an avian womb; it would never survive.” Without waiting for me to acknowledge whether I understood, she concluded, “Apparently you’re both human enough to breed together. Your mate’s body is adapting itself to take care of your child. She will be weak for a while, but otherwise she appears healthy. You may see her in a couple of days.” “Days?” “I’ve been a doctor since before you were born, and that gives me the right to be blunt,” Betsy said. “She needs a few days without excitement while her system is getting used to the changes. Having you in her bedroom is not going to help her rest.” Again I grudgingly accepted the doctor’s orders, though I hoped that Danica would argue once she woke. “Andreios, you’ll make sure he does as he’s told?” Betsy appealed to the crow. Rei answered immediately, “You know I would never let anyone do anything that would endanger my queen.” Betsy frowned. “You’ve spent too much time with serpents for me to trust that means you’ll obey my orders,” she said. “I’ll wash my hands of it until she has the sense to return to the Keep. Just make sure she is allowed to rest. I will stay in serpiente lands until she is well enough to travel, in case complications arise. Zane, your associates assured me a room in the palace.” I nodded. “Of course.” I wasn’t overly fond of the doctor right then, but that wasn’t really her fault. Avians, and their fixation on decorum and respectability, sent me to the brink of insanity almost daily.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
Costermongers crowded the thoroughfare, hawking their wares with impatient cries. They sold everything imaginable: ropes of onions and braces of dead game, teapots, flowers, matches, and caged larks and nightingales. This last presented frequent problems to the Hathaways, as Beatrix was determined to rescue every living creature she saw. Many a bird had been reluctantly purchased by their brother-in-law, Mr. Rohan, and set free at their country estate. Rohan swore that by now he had purchased half the avian population in Hampshire.
Lisa Kleypas (Tempt Me at Twilight (The Hathaways, #3))
How is your lady love faring in all this?” His expression shifted, betraying the smile of one happily besotted despite the circumstances. “I think she is as stunned as everyone else, but she is a very strong, capable woman.” I couldn’t resist the urge to tease a little. “Strong and capable? Flattering descriptions, but hardly warm enough to merit the soft look in your eyes.” “She isn’t a serpent, who wears her passions like jewelry and dances barefoot in the morning,” Gerard answered. “She is an avian lady, serene and composed even when she is upset. Strong, and capable.” More softly, he added, “She guards her heart and soul tightly unless she is around those she most trusts…so every little glimpse she allows me is like the silver moon rising over the sea.” “A’le-Ahnleh,” I responded with newfound respect. “My best wishes to you both.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
The avian court follows the Tuuli Thea. They would be hesitant to bring their families so close to the serpiente, at least at first, but hopefully future generations won’t be as frightened. And if we let it be known that we will raise our child there, I think that plenty of avian scholars would be willing to go, if only in hopes of ‘protecting’ the queen’s heir. Then of course there may be those who simply wish to curry favor with their monarch, even if it means supporting what they will doubtless see as another mad scheme by their Tuuli Thea.” “Another?” “Of course,” she answered sweetly. “You may recall the last one, since it involved announcing you as my alistair.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
We come from different worlds,” I said, “but each has so much to teach the other. There will be moments of dissonance, when people struggle to understand each other’s ways, but once we get past our misconceptions, imagine the reward. “The dancers will perform in the market of Wyvern’s Court; they will be beside avian poets, singers, philosophers and storytellers or we cannot hope to succeed. Merchants will haggle prices and barter goods as they have in both our markets throughout history. Scholars will work to impart their valuable knowledge to their students. Artists will create beauty. And our children will grow up together, playing the same games, taught by the same teachers, living side by side until as adults, I pray, they laugh at the petty arguments we had in this nest while we designed their world.” “And ravens will dance, and serpents will fight for the lives of falcons.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
The dancers are a crucial part of serpiente culture, not to mention a beautiful addition to any public area.” “They may be important to the serpiente, but making their performances so accessible to our children just isn’t appropriate,” Lincon said. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for the dancers to remain in their nest, so the more impressionable of our…” He trailed off, because the room had suddenly gone very quiet around him. A’isha flitted over to the avian man, wrapped in quiet anger. “Have we harmed you in some way while you have been here? Has one of my dancers offended you?” Lincon pointed out, “It is not your hospitality I question, but your regard for propriety. I was propositioned within moments of entering your nest.” A’isha chuckled, shaking her head. “You are a pretty man, and you walked in alone.” Lincon cleared his throat. “I don’t think this is a laughing matter.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
When I had arrived home and learned of this terrible series of events, I had immediately set out for the Hawk’s Keep. I had started that ride in a fog of denial, refusing to acknowledge that my brother was dead, refusing to believe that the burden of the roal seat had fallen to me so suddenly at the age of sixteen. The hours had turned my thoughts from disbelief to mad fury. I had scaled the walls of the Hawk’s Keep, intent on murder, and stumbled into the room of Danica Shardae. And there, I think I fell in love. As I beheld the avian princess sleeping so innocently, her cheek marked by a new cut--probably by one of my own people’s blades--my hatred died, leaving only a desperate desire for peace in its wake. When the mad suggestion was made last winter that taking the enemy queen as my mate could end the war, it had almost seemed like fate. It had not been easy to bridge the gaps between us, but together we had managed. Fate had given me many gifts. Danica Shardae was the one for which I would forever be most grateful.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
Danica’s eyes fluttered open the instant I stepped through the door, and she smiled softly. “I was starting to wonder if you were planning on obeying Betsy after all.” “Never,” I assured her. “Though I’ve promised I will let you get some sleep. How do you feel?” I went to her side, and Danica hooked and arm across my shoulders to steady herself as she sat up. Danica winced. “I hurt.” She rolled her shoulders, as if the muscles were sore. “I’m sure,” I responded sympathetically. Offering the Ahnleh A’isha had given to me, I went on, “This is a congratulatory gift from sha’Mehay.” I explained the significance of the ancient coin and repeated A’isha’s words regarding why she was giving it to Danica. She took the coin reverently, closing it in her hand for a moment before tying the cord into place. “Thank you,” she said softly, as she snuggled closer. I knew the words were not for me, but for the nest around us. I began to massage her shoulders, and she closed her eyes and leaned back toward my touch. My fingertips brushed the feathers growing under her hair at the nape of her neck. There was still a moment of hesitation in my mind every time I felt those feathers, a moment when my thoughts protested, remembering so many years of war when this beautiful woman had been my enemy, so hated that when fate crossed our paths there had been no choice but for me to love her. She met my gaze now without any hint of the fear that had once been there. Cobriana eyes had once been for Danica what her feathers were for me. Avian legend said that a royal cobra’s garnet eyes possessed demonic power, and it had taken a long time for Danica to trust me enough to look into mine. Most avians still shuddered and avoided my gaze. “I feel…tired, but wonderful. Betsy tells me--” She broke off, words failing her, and then gave up on speech and kissed me. “I love you,” she whispered--then yawned widely. “Take a nap with me?” The request, as always, made me smile. When we had first met, the idea of resting with another person was as foreign to the lovely but reserved hawk as the idea of flying was to me. I was happy that Danica had not yet taken me into the air, but she had grown used to a second heartbeat while she rested. That blessing pleased me almost as much as any could. I wrapped my arms around milady; Danica sighed, tucking her head down against my chest like a chick in the nest. Having her there calmed my fears and let me drift into sleep.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
I don’t think we can deal with this immediately.” I looked at Danica as I spoke, searching her expression for agreement or argument. “Valene, the dancers have already welcomed Danica and our child. If they can circulate the knowledge that I will name Danica’s child my heir, I can only hope it won’t be as much of a shock when the announcement is made.” Even as I spoke, I felt the cold knot of fear in my gut. Our child would be born in peace, but would she live in war? “Besides that, we’ll have to wait until the protests are raised specifically.” “Not meaning to be troublesome,” Ailbhe answered, “but how absurd is the idea that Salem could be Diente?” The white viper’s words were answered by a roomful of glares, but he stood his ground. “What I mean to ask is, what is your ultimate goal? Salem will be raised without hatred for Danica’s people. He’ll have no hunger for war, and what’s more, he’ll have a civilization at peace to begin with. If peace is your goal, your sister’s child will still make a fine Diente.” “And what of our child?” Danica spoke in her calm and detached court voice, which she used among serpents only when she was too angry or disgusted to maintain rationality any other way. My hand found hers, and she gripped it tightly. “Your child may well be born as purely avian as you are. If it takes an avian mate, its children will probably show little of the Cobriana blood. Again, if your goal is just peace, the child could be raised avian--raised to be Tuuli Thea. Each court would have its heir, an heir raised without bloodlust and hatred. You would have peace.” For a moment I could not speak. So long as I had breath in my body, I would see my child on the serpiente throne. Diente, Tuuli Thea--our child would be both. “Are you mad?” The words escaped me as I locked eyes with Ailbhe. “How could you consider--” “Zane.” Danica interrupted me, placing a hand on my chest. “You can’t be thinking--” “Would you rather set up our child for war from the instant it’s born? If the serpiente reject our child for their throne, then you still have Salem as your heir. If my people reject it, there will be no Tuuli Thea after me.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Snakecharm (The Kiesha'ra, #2))
A gathering nimbus obscured the sun’s light and out from the gathered clouds looped and coiled the guardian of the avian world. With a trail of inferno in her wake, it was Alicanto
Soroosh Shahrivar (The Rise of Shams)
People like me really shouldn’t be allowed to build a people house until we’ve managed to build a bird house that isn’t immediately condemned as uninhabitable by the avian building department.
Robert Kroese (The Force is Middling in this One)
The slopes around Rey were full of life. Sticklike insects regarded her inscrutably as they picked their way through the grass, while birds rode the winds above her head. Many of the rocky outcroppings she passed were rookeries for small, chubby avians. They were curious about the intruder, peering at her with big, liquid eyes and challenging her with fusillades of squawks. Their flying struck Rey as a triumph of determination over ability—they looked like airborne rocks, hurtling themselves off the cliffs and flapping their stubby wings desperately until somehow leveling out centimeters from disaster.
Jason Fry (The Last Jedi (Star Wars: Novelizations, #8))
He subscribed to the medieval policy of polypharmacy – chucking in sometimes dozens of ingredients on the principle that some of them were bound to do you good, ignoring the possibility that some of them might be toxic. As well as ‘fistfuls’ and ‘half-handfuls’ of miscellaneous greenery, ivory shavings cropped up quite often, sometimes having been burned first. The genitals of a cockerel might come in useful, if you could find them. Breast milk should be drunk ‘from the breast by sucking, and if this be loathsome to the patient [regardless of the feelings of the donor] let him take it as hot as possible’. Cat lovers would be horrified by Gaddesden’s recommendation of an ‘astringent bath: take young cats, cut their entrails out, and put their extremities [paws and tail?] with [various herbs], boil in water and bathe the sick man in it’. Another feline recipe: put ‘the lard’ of a black cat, and of a dog, into the belly of a previously eviscerated and flayed black cat, and roast it; collect the ‘juice’ and rub it on the sick limb. ‘The comfort derived therefrom is marvellous.’ A specific for nervous disease is the brain of a hare. If the hunting party kills a fox instead, they could boil it up and use the resulting broth for a massage. Treatment for a paralysed tongue sounds more cheerful: rub it with what the translator called ‘usquebaugh’, i.e. whisky; ‘it restores the speech, as has been proved on many people’. Animal and avian droppings found many uses, such as peacocks’ droppings for a boil. A cowpat made a good poultice, with added herbs. For those who could afford them, gold and silver and pearls, both bored and unbored, were bound to increase the efficacy of the medicine. Gaddesden recommended his own electuary, using eighteen ingredients including burnt ivory and unbored pearls, with a pound of (very expensive) sugar; ‘I have often proved its goodness myself.’ In a final flourish, he suggests putting the heart of a robin redbreast round the neck of a ‘lethargic’ patient, to keep him awake, or hanging the same heart, with an owl’s heart, above an amnesiac patient; it will ‘give [his memory] back to him’. Even better, the heart of a swallow cooked in honey ‘compels him who eats it to tell all things that happened’ in the past, and to predict the future.
Liza Picard (Chaucer's People: Everyday Lives in Medieval England)
The apprentice is required to master many techniques before receiving safari guide certification. Among the most difficult and essential of these skills is the ancient practice of unihemispheric slow-wave sleeping. The ability to sleep with half of the brain while the other remains completely alert, alternating between hemispheres, allows the guide to remain conscious twenty-four hours a day. This unconventional method has been observed in a number of terrestrial, aquatic and avian species, particularly those that dwell in areas of high predation. It is strongly recommended that safari guides avoid full REM sleep while guiding safaris. Though, when charged with the care of the most demanding and pampered of clients, a traditional fifteen minute nap is occasionally permitted.
Jesse Jacobs
Heat? He supposed she was right, why couldn’t a male swan or any other avian shifter lay eggs? Vic glanced back at the restaurant where Kellan sat waiting for his return. Everything inside him screamed that Kellan was meant to be with him—had been drawn to Vale Valley so they could be together—but he hadn’t considered that they could be fated mates. Maybe I have been wallowing in my loneliness for much too long.
M.M. Wilde (A Swan for Christmas (Vale Valley Season One, #4))
Societies, especially in the developed world, were thought to be on the verge of becoming invulnerable to new plagues. Unfortunately, this expectation has proved to be spectacularly misplaced. Well into the twenty-first century smallpox remains the only disease to have been successfully eradicated. Worldwide, infectious diseases remain leading causes of death and serious impediments to economic growth and political stability. Newly emerging diseases such as Ebola, Lassa fever, West Nile virus, avian flu, Zika, and dengue present new challenges, while familiar afflictions such as tuberculosis and malaria have reemerged, often in menacing drug-resistant forms. Public health authorities have particularly targeted the persisting threat of a devastating new pandemic of influenza such as the “Spanish lady” that swept the world with such ferocity in 1918 and 1919.
Frank M. Snowden III (Epidemics and Society: From the Black Death to the Present)
The inoculation we gave the soldiers here offers no real protection against the avian flu. It is merely a means to an end. The so-called ‘vaccine’ is nothing more than a point five-milliliter dose of saline, useless against any biological threat. Ah, but within that innocuous saline is a most remarkable example of nanotechnology—the BioStrain chip. Third generation, of course. Nothing but the best for my men.
Derek P. Gilbert (The God Conspiracy)