Eagle Soaring Quotes

Leo lowered his screwdriver. He looked at the ceiling and shook his head like, What am I gonna do with this guy? "I try very hard to be annoying," Leo said. "Don't insult my ability to annoy. And how am I supposed to resent you if you go apologizing? I'm a lowly mechanic. You're like the prince of the sky, son of the Lord of the Universe. I'm supposed to resent you." "Lord of the Universe?" (Jason) "Sure, you're all-bam! Lightning man. And 'Watch me fly. I am the eagle that soars-" (Leo) "Shut up, Valdez." (Jason) Leo managed a little smile. "Yeah, see. I do annoy you." "I apologize for apologizing." (Jason) "Thank you." He went back to work, but the tension had eased between them. Leo still looked sad and exhausted-just not quite so angry.

According to the conventions of the genre, Augustus Waters kept his sense of humor till the end, did not for a moment waiver in his courage, and his spirit soared like an indomitable eagle until the world itself could not contain his joyous soul. But this is the truth, a pitiful boy who desperately wanted not to be pitiful, screaming and crying, poisoned by an infected G-tube that kept him alive, but not alive enough. I wiped his chin and grabbed his face in my hands and knelt down close to him so that I could see his eyes, which still lived. 'I'm sorry. I wish it was like that movie, with the Persians and the Spartans.' 'Me too,' he said. 'But it isn't,' I said. 'I know,' he said. 'There are no bad guys.' 'Yeah.' 'Even cancer isn't a bad guy really: Cancer just wants to be alive.

Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.

There is an eagle in me that wants to soar, and there is a hippopotamus in me that wants to wallow in the mud

The less you associate with some people, the more your life will improve. Any time you tolerate mediocrity in others, it increases your mediocrity. An important attribute in successful people is their impatience with negative thinking and negative acting people. As you grow, your associates will change. Some of your friends will not want you to go on. They will want you to stay where they are. Friends that don't help you climb will want you to crawl. Your friends will stretch your vision or choke your dream. Those that don't increase you will eventually decrease you. Consider this: Never receive counsel from unproductive people. Never discuss your problems with someone incapable of contributing to the solution, because those who never succeed themselves are always first to tell you how. Not everyone has a right to speak into your life. You are certain to get the worst of the bargain when you exchange ideas with the wrong person. Don't follow anyone who's not going anywhere. With some people you spend an evening: with others you invest it. Be careful where you stop to inquire for directions along the road of life. Wise is the person who fortifies his life with the right friendships. If you run with wolves, you will learn how to howl. But, if you associate with eagles, you will learn how to soar to great heights. "A mirror reflects a man's face, but what he is really like is shown by the kind of friends he chooses." The simple but true fact of life is that you become like those with whom you closely associate - for the good and the bad. Note: Be not mistaken. This is applicable to family as well as friends. Yes...do love, appreciate and be thankful for your family, for they will always be your family no matter what. Just know that they are human first and though they are family to you, they may be a friend to someone else and will fit somewhere in the criteria above. "In Prosperity Our Friends Know Us. In Adversity We Know Our friends." "Never make someone a priority when you are only an option for them." "If you are going to achieve excellence in big things,you develop the habit in little matters. Excellence is not an exception, it is a prevailing attitude.."..

So long as one's just dreaming about what to do, one can soar like an eagle and move mountains, it seems, but as soon as one starts doing it one gets worn out and tired.

It is not enough if you just live life as it comes to you like a floating leaf in a pond. Make use of the powers bestowed in you and soar like an eagle.

If we never had the courage to take a leap of faith, we'd be cheating God out of a chance to mount us up with wings like eagles and watch us soar.

Man's hope can paint a purple picture, can transform a soaring vulture into a noble eagle or moaning dove.

High Flight Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there, I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air.... Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace. Where never lark, or even eagle flew — And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space, - Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

It also makes my father right again. How will I ever soar with the eagles if I'm surrounded by turkeys?

Looking down over the railing, she watched an eagle soar slowly across the tree tops.

If a man could taste wind and fire, they would taste like Katherine. When he stood in high places looking down on things made small by distance, he tried to feel what the eagle felt soaring free on the wind. He was an earthbound man. Only his spirit could ever soar, and only Katherine raised him so high.

and there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he forever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than the other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.

Let your boys test their wings. They may not be eagles, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't soar free.

A dove struggling in a storm grows stronger than an eagle soaring in sunshine.

If you associate with eagles, you will learn how to soar to great heights. But if you run with dogs, you will learn how to bark.

Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass by Between shrouds of life and haze sun rays die

‎They are angry with me, because I know what I am." Said the little eagle. "How do you know that they are angry with you?" "Because, they despise me for wanting to soar, they only want me to peck at the dirt, looking for ants, with them. But I can't do that. I don't have chicken feet, I have eagle wings." "And what is so wrong with having eagle wings and no chicken feet?" Asked the old owl. "I'm not sure, that's what I'm trying to find out." "They hate you because you know that you are an eagle and they want you to think you are a chicken so that you will peck at the ground looking for ants and worms, so that you will never know that you are an eagle and always think yourself a chicken. Let them hate you, they will always be chickens, and you will always be an eagle. You must fly. You must soar." Said the old owl.

Don't settle for anything less. Rise up and optimize your talents through strategic thinking and big dream. Your God should be your guide in all things.

Soar like an eagle beyond skies of heavens reach; as wings of dreams dance with winds of reality.

Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).

If a bird believes it is an eagle long enough, it will eventually end up soaring like one.

THOU wast all that to me, love, For which my soul did pine: A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope, that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"—but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast. For, alas! alas! with me The light of Life is o'er! No more—no more—no more— (Such language holds the solemn sea To the sands upon the shore) Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree, Or the stricken eagle soar. And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy gray eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams— In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams.

If a man can realize his divine nature with the help of an image, would it be right to call that a sin? Nor, even when he has passed that stage, should he call it an error. [...] man is not traveling from error to truth, but from truth to truth, from lower to higher truth. To him all the religions from the lowest fetishism to the highest absolutism, mean so many attempts of the human soul to grasp and realize the Infinite, each determined by the conditions of its birth and association, and each of these marks a stage of progress; and every soul is a young eagle soaring higher and higher, gathering more and more strength till it reaches the Glorious Sun.

Happy the writer who, passing by characters that are boring, disgusting, shocking in their mournful reality, approaches characters that manifest the lofty dignity of man, who from the great pool of daily whirling images has chosen only the rare exceptions, who has never once betrayed the exalted turning of his lyre, nor descended from his height to his poor, insignificant brethren, and, without touching the ground, has given the whole of himself to his elevated images so far removed from it. Twice enviable is his beautiful lot: he is among them as in his own family; and meanwhile his fame spreads loud and far. With entrancing smoke he has clouded people's eyes; he has flattered them wondrously, concealing what is mournful in life, showing them a beautiful man. Everything rushes after him, applauding, and flies off following his triumphal chariot. Great world poet they name him, soaring high above all other geniuses in the world, as the eagle soars above the other high fliers. At the mere mention of his name, young ardent hearts are filled with trembling, responsive tears shine in all eyes...No one equals him in power--he is God! But such is not the lot, and other is the destiny of the writer who has dared to call forth all that is before our eyes every moment and which our indifferent eyes do not see--all the stupendous mire of trivia in which our life in entangled, the whole depth of cold, fragmented, everyday characters that swarm over our often bitter and boring earthly path, and with the firm strength of his implacable chisel dares to present them roundly and vividly before the eyes of all people! It is not for him to win people's applause, not for him to behold the grateful tears and unanimous rapture of the souls he has stirred; no sixteen-year-old girl will come flying to meet him with her head in a whirl and heroic enthusiasm; it is not for him to forget himself in the sweet enchantment of sounds he himself has evoked; it is not for him, finally, to escape contemporary judgment, hypocritically callous contemporary judgment, which will call insignificant and mean the creations he has fostered, will allot him a contemptible corner in the ranks of writers who insult mankind, will ascribe to him the quality of the heroes he has portrayed, will deny him heart, and soul, and the divine flame of talent. For contemporary judgment does not recognize that equally wondrous are the glasses that observe the sun and those that look at the movement of inconspicuous insect; for contemporary judgment does not recognize that much depth of soul is needed to light up the picture drawn from contemptible life and elevate it into a pearl of creation; for contemporary judgment does not recognize that lofty ecstatic laughter is worthy to stand beside the lofty lyrical impulse, and that a whole abyss separates it from the antics of the street-fair clown! This contemporary judgment does not recognize; and will turn it all into a reproach and abuse of the unrecognized writer; with no sharing, no response, no sympathy, like a familyless wayfarer, he will be left alone in the middle of the road. Grim is his path, and bitterly he will feel his solitude.

Believers do not carry their faith, faith is their wings. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary.

I will howl with the wolves, soar above the eagles and roam wild with the Mustang. I will breathe life into the sunrise atop a mountain, bathe naked in the streams, dance in the sunset and love beneath the stars, travelling far and wide, seeking new experiences with those who dare to run with the wind, dare to touch the storm that is me...

If I had wings I would fly, I'd soar on high where only eagles dare I'd let them rip, I'd let them tear, until all that remained was me bare.

Out of the night Hopper came, and Perrin was one with the wolf. Hopper, the cub who had watched the eagles soar, and wanted so badly to fly through the sky as the eagles did. The cub who hopped and jumped and leaped until he could leap higher than any other wolf, who never lost the cub's yearning to soar through the sky. [...] Something crashed into his head, and as he fell, he did not know if it was Hopper or himself who died.

The world may indeed be evil and ugly, I thought defiantly, it may be soiled with sin, but I also knew that when a man lifts his soul up to the vaults of heaven, reaching seraphic heights with the power of his voice, he becomes an eagle soaring, an instrument of the Holy Ghost

Twelve pillars of the castle of time will bear. Twelve creatures rule land and sea. The eagle is ready to soar in the air, Five's the foundation and also the key. In the Circle of Twelve, Number Twelve becomes Two. The hawk hatches seventh, yet Three is the clue.

If life gives you a passport size dream, don't frame it... Order for a reprint... Go for the bigger picture of you! You deserve a bigger and bright image of you... Go and soar like an eagle!

And when you reach the place where this understanding overtakes you; that there is no one in the world that will ever love you with the force and power you can love yourself with. That no saviour in the form of a spouse or best friend is coming to make you complete and that you are your own saviour, your own best friend and perhaps the only saviour and best friend you will have, you will soar on wings of eagles and amazing things will happen.

An exaltation of spirit lifted me, as it were, far above the earth and the sinful creatures crawling on its surface; and I deemed myself as an eagle among the children of men, soaring on high, and looking down with pity and contempt on the grovelling creatures below.

Trailblazer, you are a warrior! Other people’s actions gave you a head start because you recognized the red flags and knew that wasn’t the right way to go. The force of awareness broadened your vision; you had the keen insight of an eagle. You knew when to soar in the sky with ease and peace. You also knew when to suit up as you looked down and hunted for your prey. The best part of it all was, just as they thought they’d got the best of you, you attacked at the right time, and they never saw it coming.

She gazed toward the marsh that grew thicker, deeper, greener with approaching summer. Mosquitoes whined in there, breeding in the dark water. Alligators slid through it, silent death. It was a place where snakes could slither and bogs could suck the shoe right off your foot. And it was a place, she thought, that went bright and beautiful with the twinkling of fireflies, where wildflowers thrived in the shade and the stingy light. Where an eagle could soar like a king. There was no beauty without risk. No life without it.

Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee; as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.

Fallen warriors, you might fall, but you are like eagles! You work effortlessly as you soar high into the clouds. You ride the winds of change as you gather all of your strength, courage, and patience. You develop wisdom during your challenges of transformation while you tear down your boundaries one obstacle at a time.

A strong woman is like an eagle, against the strong winds she soars.

Those who drink whiskey with the owls at night, cannot soar with the eagles the next day.

After ripping through The Hobbit, I read The Lord of the Rings, and the darkness of that story enveloped me in a way that is impossible to explain. I was THERE, in a very real sense. The fear was palpable in the presence of the black-cloaked Ringwraiths, and I could taste the sulfurous fumes of Mt. Doom. I could smell the sweat of horses and hot leather and hear the clash of battle as I rode with the Rohan on the fields of the Pelennor. I bled and died with the sun-king, Theoden. I rose again with Eowyn’s defiance of the Witch King. I soared with the Eagles as they swept the broken and bloody body of Frodo and his companion Samwise the Brave from the smoking crags of the fiery mountain. There has never been such a story, and I don’t think there ever shall be again.

if I was a painter, and was to paint the American Eagle, how should I do it?...I should want to draw it like a Bat, for its short-sightedness; like a Bantam. for its bragging; like a Magpie, for its honesty; like a Peacock, for its vanity; like an Ostrich, for putting its head in the mud, and thinking nobody sees it -' ...'And like a Phoenix, for its power of springing from the ashes of its faults and vices, and soaring up anew into the sky!

Even Solomon, he says, “the man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead.” Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee, as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gore is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar. (pg 465)

The Eagle soars in the summit of Heaven, The Hunter with his dogs pursues his circuit. O perpetual revolution of configured stars, O perpetual recurrence of determined seasons, O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying The endless cycle of idea and action, Endless invention, endless experiment, Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; Knowledge of speech, but not of silence; Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word. All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance, All our ignorance brings us nearer to death, But nearness to death no nearer to GOD. Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information? The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries Bring us farther from GOD and nearer to the Dust.

If all it takes to motivate you is a quote then this quote has nothing to say – except to go soar with the freakin’ eagles.

Man’s hope can paint a purple picture, can transform a soaring vulture into a noble eagle or a moaning dove.

When you find yourself on the edge and see nothing but darkness ahead of you and fear meeting you head on faith is knowing one of two things will happen ... you will either let your fear consume you or push through and soar like an eagle.

Today You Soar "Like the grand eagle, you spread your wings And put forth the effort to do great things. Looking skyward you dared to challenge the wind, Harnessing power to help you ascend. With an eye on the goal, fixed in flight, You climbed to an impressive height. Undaunted by gusts and unkind gails, You never gave up and would not fail. So now you’ve reached where few even try As the eagle high in a glorious sky. Not superior, but grand. Not proud, but sure. Not a cub, wolf, or bear but an eagle pure. Today you soar.

Could you say it once," he entreated, "like they say people do?" Her heart beat like the wings of an eagle, taking her soaring as she spoke the words. "I love you, Will Parker." The sting hit his eyelids and he hung his head because nobody had prepared him for this, nobody had said, When it happens you'll be resurrected. All that you were you will not be. All that you weren't, you are. He lunged against her, burying his face above her breasts, holding fast. "Oh, God..." he groaned. "Oh, God.

And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.

I would be a wedge-tailed eagle. I would only live for the joy of flight. I would soar at great heights, on top of the wind. I would be above everything, over the little towns clinging to the highway. I would be a part of everything.

An eagle soaring above a sheer cliff, where I suppose its nest is, makes another striking show of life, and helps to bring to mind the other people of the so-called solitude—deer in the forest caring for their young; the strong, well-clad, well-fed bears; the lively throng of squirrels; the blessed birds, great and small, stirring and sweetening the groves; and the clouds of happy insects filling the sky with joyous hum as part and parcel of the down-pouring sunshine.

And so, there in the penitentiary, Juan's education began. He didn't want to be a puto weakling, so he worked hard at learning to read. His earthly body was locked up, but his mind was set free as a young eagle soaring through the heavens.

Nobirdy aviar soar anywing to eagle it!

Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

God Gave Us Wings to soar like an eagle rather than flutter around like a chicken.

Almost every single thing you hope publication will do for you is a fantasy, a hologram--it's the eagle on your credit card that only seems to soar.

Walk with wolves. Run with lions. Soar with eagles.

Be like that soaring eagle. Wild, free and magnificently fearless.

My dreams have wings. But not soaring eagle wings, more like the wings of a butterfly—colorful and easily ripped off. The last time my dreams got ripped off was when I shopped at Walmart, the place where freedom soars like a caterpillar under the foot of oppression.

I'd Like to See ----------------- I'd like to see the red Of the roses in full bloom. I'd like to see the silver Of sun's reflection on the moon. I'd like to see the blue Of the ocean when it's roaring. I'd like to see the brown Of the eagle when it's soaring. I'd like to see the purple Of grapes hanging on the vine. I'd like to see the yellow Of the sun in summertime. I'd like to see the russet Of the chestnuts on the tree. I'd like to see the faces Of those that smile at me.

Life is filled with terrifying moments, and we cannot stop the onslaught of fear any more than we can hold back the wind. But we can always choose our response. The very winds that cause the eagle to soar later in life terrified it when it was an eaglet. Allow fear to drive you toward God.

According to the conventions of the genre, Augustus Waters kept his sense of humor till the end, did not for a moment waiver in his courage, and his spirit soared like an indomitable eagle until the world itself could not contain his joyous soul.

Knowing that wisdom waits to be gathered, I actively search her out. I will change my actions TODAY! I will train my eyes and ears to read and listen to books and recordings that bring about positive changes in my personal relationships and a greater understanding of my fellow man. I will read and listen only to what increases my belief in myself and my future. I will seek wisdom. I will choose my friends with care. I am who my friends are. I speak their language, and I wear their clothes. I share their opinions and their habits. From this moment forward, I will choose to associate with people whose lives and lifestyles I admire. If I associate with chickens, I will learn to scratch at the ground and squabble over crumbs. If I associate with eagles, I will learn to soar to great heights. I am an eagle. It is my destiny to fly. I will seek wisdom. I will listen to the counsel of wise men. The words of a wise man are like raindrops on dry ground. They are precious and can be quickly used for immediate results. Only the blade of grass that catches a raindrop will prosper and grow. I will seek wisdom. I will be a servant to others. A wise man will cultivate a servant’s spirit, for that particular attribute attracts people like no other. As I humbly serve others, their wisdom will be freely shared with me. He who serves the most grows the fastest. I will become a humble servant. I will look to open the door for someone. I will be excited when I am available to help. I will be a servant to others. I will listen to the counsel of wise men. I will choose my friends with care. I will seek wisdom.

In time, your spirit will be with them again, perhaps in a great, spreading tree that shades the place where your grandchildren play. Maybe in a wide-winged eagle soaring aloft, watching as your dear one spreads her linen on the hawthorns to dry and looks suddenly to the sky, shading her eyes against the sunlight. You will be there, and they will know.

If you want to fulfil your dreams, you don't walk with chickens you soar with eagles.

Our power of perseverance is as that of an eagle. We soar above our challengers.

and his spirit soared like an indomitable eagle until the world itself could not contain his joyous soul.

Soaring is in stages, it progresses as you engage in the very art.

You shall overcome every limitation and soar high on Eagle’s wing.

Vi er fortsættelsen af Jesu kaldelse i det 20. århundrede, og, hvad der er lige så vigtigt, vi er opfyldelsen af den drøm, han har lagt i vore hjerter.

Eagles may soar high, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

You become a leader when you believe in what you can do. The eagle believes it can soar; it doesn’t believe it can swim. The day the eagle will attempt to swim will be the day it will fail!

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. ISAIAH 40 : 29 – 31

The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:28–31)

Visionære mennesker, de, som har en drøm, har ofte problemer med det nutidige, Dette at de kever derude i fremtiden, hvor drømmene, for dem, allerede er gået i opfyldelse, bringer dem hovedkulds ind i nutidens blodige kendsgerninger.

If you’re going to be an eagle, if you’re going to soar, you can’t go back to the dead things in your life that will poison you. Too many people are feeding off what didn’t work out, reliving the disappointments, the failures, the bad breaks.

Poets make much of the majestic eagle soaring freely among the snowy peaks. But the eyes of the eagle are generally focused on the ground, searching for rodents lurking in the shadows. The lives of much of humanity could be summed up in similar terms. Let

The eagle had two natural enemies: storms and serpents. He embraced the storm, waiting on the rock for the right thermal current and then using that to carry him higher. While other birds were taking cover, the eagle was soaring. An eagle would never fight against the storms of life.

ORGANIC LIFE beneath the shoreless waves Was born and nurs'd in Ocean's pearly caves; First, forms minute, unseen by spheric glass, Move on the mud, or pierce the watery mass; These, as successive generations bloom, New powers acquire, and larger limbs assume; Whence countless groups of vegetation spring, And breathing realms of fin, and feet, and wing. Thus the tall Oak, the giant of the wood, Which bears Britannia's thunders on the flood; The Whale, unmeasured monster of the main, The lordly Lion, monarch of the plain, The Eagle soaring in the realms of air, Whose eye undazzled drinks the solar glare, Imperious man, who rules the bestial crowd, Of language, reason, and reflection proud, With brow erect, who scorns this earthy sod, And styles himself the image of his God; Arose from rudiments of form and sense, An embryon point, or microscopic ens!

The Eagle soars in the summit of Heaven, The Hunter with his dogs pursues his circuit. O perpetual revolution of configured stars, O perpetual recurrence of determined seasons, O world of spring and autumn, birth and dying! The endless cycle of idea and action, Endless invention, endless experiment, Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; Knowledge of speech, but not of silence; Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word. All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance, All our ignorance brings us nearer to death, But nearness to death no nearer to GOD.

This is what Waterloo was. But what matters it to the Infinite? all that tempest, all that cloud, that war, then that peace? All that darkness did not trouble for a moment the light of that immense Eye before which a grub skipping from one blade of grass to another equals the eagle soaring from belfry to belfry on the towers of Notre Dame.

He was at that height of excitement from which everything is foreshortened, from which life seems short and simple, death very near, and the soul seems to soar like an eagle.

I can soar like an eagle even though logics dictate otherwise

He imagined forgiveness was like flying, that it made you soar. He imagined that it looked like an eagle, a silver bolt in the sky, that it was pure light.

Duck quack and complain. Eagles soar above the crowd.

I remain exquisitely still. Anytime the eagle of another heart soars, whatever you are-mouse, toad, snake- don't move. From such great heights, it might not see you.

Fly low and feed with the chickens or soar high and dance with the eagles.

She wears thick eyeliner, a short skirt, a T-shirt that says “Eagles may soar, but weasels never get sucked into jet engines.

If you want to soar with the eagles in the morning, buddy, you can’t wallow with the pigs at night. Be cool.

Deep down inside all of us, there's an eagle ready to take off to new adventurous heights. Always let your soul soar as high as it will.

He soared up and scared an eagle out of it’s flight path, then plummeted toward the sea like he was born to fly, pulling out of a nosedive at the last second. His sandals skimmed the waves.

Selve kernen i evangeliet er Jesu fortsatte gerning gennem sit legeme - menigheden - her på jorden, nøjagtig tilsvarende den gerning, han havde, da han var inkarneret - blot større i omfang.

My Kind of Girl A letter of inspiration from a loving Mother Understands who she is Stands for what she believes in She cannot be broken No one can belittle her When trials come her way She remains unfazed My Kind of Girl Walks with confidence She exudes excellence An epitome of elegance She does due diligence Being mindful of her intelligence And knowing her importance My Kind of Girl Builds her own future A certified trailblazer Who utilizes the power within her To be of good influence Always on top of her game Yes, she keeps soaring like an eagle My Kind of Girl Takes charge for her own life Secures her name in historical archives For she is no ordinary woman An extraordinary being She dares to dream In the world, she makes a difference That is my kind of girl

If I associate with chickens, I will learn to scratch at the ground and squabble over crumbs. If I associate with eagles, I will learn to soar to great heights. I am an eagle. It is my destiny to fly.

Augustus Waters kept his sense of humor till the end, did not for a moment waiver in his courage, and his spirit soared like an indomitable eagle until the world itself could not contain his joyous soul.

Infinite particles found in stars- Fragments, beaming of light, pouring forth through the sun. Grains of sand blown by the wind, along with blades of grass and prickly ash from our Earth. We fly as an eagle- soaring, and with the night, we come to be awakened by the morning light. Glorious life, here we meet and here, we are One as our hearts beat. I am grateful for the infinite, creative living force within all.

Isaiah 40:31?” She closed her eyes and quoted, “‘But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

I am who my friends are. I speak their language, and I wear their clothes. I share their opinions and their habits. From this moment forward, I will choose to associate with people whose lives and lifestyles I admire. If I associate with chickens, I will learn to scratch at the ground and squabble over crumbs. If I associate with eagles, I will learn to soar to great heights. I am an eagle. It is my destiny to fly. I will seek wisdom.

De fleste af os har drømme, men lægger dem til side som umulige. Men Gud lægger aldrig et ønske i vort hjerte eller giver os tegn til at gå ud på vandet, med mindre han ønsker, at vi skal gå ud i tro og i det mindste gøre forsøget.

When storms come, an eagle flies higher in order to rise above the turbulence while a mouse hides in a corner. I had to become that eagle and soar higher, not be cornered, and crushed in the storm of life. Believing in myself was the only way.

A woman like you, how do we begin to describe you? how do we describe the strength of the eagle, when it rides against the wind and soars? how do we describe the ocean without paying homage to its depth? tell me, how do we begin to describe a woman like you?

Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee; as for a time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he forever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than the other birds on the plain, even though they soar.

Der er en fordel ved at være en minoritet, som regnes blandt de forfulgte: for i den stilling må du stole på Gud som din kilde. Som Havner engang sarkastisk bemærkede, er det først, når kristendommen bevæger sig fra forfølgelse til popularitet, at kraften forsvinder.

And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.... I think it means that for some people things are harder and they don't know it. But then also, things re more beautiful because they are harder, and they don't know that either.

... he slipped in and out of himself, testing which disguise to use. He knew it had to be his most clever. The Sisters were too astute for his usual chicanery. He flapped his wings, then soared. The shape of an eagle, useful for fast travel across worlds, but only temporary. Not convincing enough to hide his true identity. ... He pushed out of the eagle skin and leaped away from the horde of birds, springing into the sky. Into nothingness. Instead of transforming into another creature, he hovered in between. Dangling on the mouth of wind. He rumbled with pleasure, at his own cleverness, born out of accident and indecision: he had become pure air. Without effort, he whooshed past the threshold into the cave, into the bark of the Great Tree, winding cleverly under and over and through a maze of roots and rough stone, past every trick and trap the Sisters had set. He delighted at the speed at which he travelled, catching himself just in time, before his enthusiasm revealed the disguise. Slowing impulse to a mere draft, sucking into himself, he reached the very heart of the Norns’ lair. The Great Hall of Time.

We are better informed about Valholl than we are about Hel, undoubtedly because people preferred to envision heaven rather than hell. Valholl was a large, easily recognized hall. The rafters of the building were made of spears, it was covered with shields, and coats of mail were strewn across the benches. A wolf was hanging west of the doors, an eagle soared above the building, and the goat Heidrun, from whose udder flowed mead, could be spotted atop the roof. Odin did not live there. He resided in the Hall of the Slain (Valaskjalf) or the Sunken Halls (Sokkvabekk),* where he drank with Saga, a hypostasis of the goddess Frigg.

The eagle ... can lock its wings and wait for the right wind. He waits for the updraft and never has to flap his wings, just soar. As as we wait on God He will help us use the adversities and strong winds to benefit us. The Bible says, 'They that wait upon the Lord ... shall mount up with wings as eagles' (Isaiah 40:31)

Soar like an eagle or sink like a stone. Talk like a winner or complain like a wimp. Rise to new heights in GOD or die in the depths of doubt & defeat. No one can kill your future but anyone can resurrect your past. You must decide how much power you are willing to give away, and how much victory you are willing to lose.

External worship, material worship," say the scriptures, "is the lowest stage; struggling to rise high, mental prayer is the next stage, but the highest stage is when the Lord has been realised." Mark, the same earnest man who is kneeling before the idol tells you, "Him the Sun cannot express, nor the moon, nor the stars, the lightning cannot express Him, nor what we speak of as fire; through Him they shine." But he does not abuse any one's idol or call its worship sin. He recognises in it a necessary stage of life. "The child is father of the man." Would it be right for an old man to say that childhood is a sin or youth a sin? If a man can realise his divine nature with the help of an image, would it be right to call that a sin? Nor even when he has passed that stage, should he call it an error. To the Hindu, man is not travelling from error to truth, but from truth to truth, from lower to higher truth. To him all the religions, from the lowest fetishism to the highest absolutism, mean so many attempts of the human soul to grasp and realise the Infinite, each determined by the conditions of its birth and association, and each of these marks a stage of progress; and every soul is a young eagle soaring higher and higher, gathering more and more strength, till it reaches the Glorious Sun.

I am the stolid husband who buys two beds and two sets of sheets so his wife can get enough sleep, who trains his children to line up their shoes and put the dishes in the cabinets a certain way so their mother won’t have to rearrange things after them, who orders the messy world below so her great mind can soar like an eagle above the fray.

The Ocean's Song We walked amongst the ruins famed in story Of Rozel-Tower, And saw the boundless waters stretch in glory And heave in power. O Ocean vast! We heard thy song with wonder, Whilst waves marked time. "Appear, O Truth!" thou sang'st with tone of thunder, "And shine sublime! "The world's enslaved and hunted down by beagles, To despots sold. Souls of deep thinkers, soar like mighty eagles! The Right uphold. "Be born! arise! o'er the earth and wild waves bounding, Peoples and suns! Let darkness vanish; tocsins be resounding, And flash, ye guns! "And you who love no pomps of fog or glamour, Who fear no shocks, Brave foam and lightning, hurricane and clamour,-- Exiles: the rocks!

Alas! it is so hard to find corporeal wings that match those of the human mind. Yet in all of us there is an innate urge to rise aloft and soar along when, lost in the blue space above us, the lark pours forth its vibrant song, when high above fir-covered crags the eagle floats on outspread wing, and when above the plains and lakes the crane seeks out its native place.

Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine— A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, “On! on!”—but o’er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast! For, alas! alas! with me The light of Life is o’er! No more—no more—no more— (Such language holds the solemn sea To the sands upon the shore) Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree, Or the stricken eagle soar! And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy grey eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams— In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams.

Den, som tror på mig, han skal også gøre de gerninger, jeg gør, ja, han skal gøre endnu større gerninger, thi jeg går til Faderen.' (Joh. 14:12). I årevis plagede dette mig, ikke fordi jeg ikke troede på det, men fordi jeg ikke så det i praksis. Hvordan kunne jeg gøre 'større gerninger' end Jesus? Men i dag forstår jeg, at Jesus ikke hentydede til gerninger, som var større i art, men i omfang.

But love itself does not argue. At first it is seen far off, like a beautiful bird of rare plumage, among flowers, on a morning in spring; it comes nearer, it is timid, it advances, it recedes, it poises on swiftly beating wings, it soars out of sight, but suddenly it is nearer than before; it changes shapes, and grows vast and terrible, till its flight is like the rushing of the whirlwind; then all is calm again, and in the stillness a sweet voice sings the chant of peace or the melancholy dirge of an endless regret; it is no longer the dove, nor the eagle, nor the storm that leaves ruin in its track—it is everything, it is life, it is the world itself, for ever and time without end, for good or evil, for such happiness as may pass all understanding, if God will, and if not, for undying sorrow

The worst kind of person is the type that goes around minimizing the achievements of other people. If anything at all, I want to maximize whatever achievements and admirable qualities another person has. The better you do, or are, the louder I'll cheer for you. I am into wanting eagles to soar further and higher. I'm not a chicken farmer. There are so many chicken farmers. I cannot stand people who cannot stand in the light of another without trying to diminish it.

I believe all of us can identify with the poet Carl Sandberg, who said, “There is an eagle in me that wants to soar and a hippopotamus in me that wants to wallow in the mud.” The key to success is following the impulse to soar more than the desire to wallow. And that is a never-ending struggle—at least it has been for me. I believe any successful person would be honest in saying, “I got to the top the hard way—fighting my own laziness and ignorance every step of the way.

Her. Her. Her. Future breezes implore me to stay. But I'm no future. I'm no past. Only ever contemporary of this path. I'll sacrifice everything for all her seasons give from losing. She, I sigh from The Mountain top. By her now. My only role. And for that freedom, spread my polar chill, reaching even the warmest times, a warning upon the back of every life that would by harming Hailey's play, ever wayward around this vegetative rush of orbit & twine, awaken among these cascading cliffs of bellicose ice me. And my Vengeance. At once. The Justice of my awful loss set free upon this crowded land. An old terror violent for the glee of ends. But to those who would tend her, harrowed by such Beauty & Fleeting Presence to do more, my cool cries will kiss their gentle foreheads and my tears will kiss their tender cheeks, and then if the Love of their Kindness, which only Kindness ever finds, spills my ear, for a while I might slip down and play amidst her canopies of gold. Solitude. Hailey's bare feet. And all her patience now assumes. Garland of Spring's Sacred Bloom. By you, ever sixteen, this World's preserved. By you, this World has everything left to lose. And I, your sentry of ice, shall allways protect what your Joy so dangerously resumes. I'll destroy no World so long it keeps turning with flurry & gush, petals & stems bending and lush, and allways our hushes returning anew. Everyone betrays the Dream but who cares for it? O Hailey no, I could never walk away from you. - Haloes! Haleskarth! Contraband! I can walk away from anything. Everyone loves the Dream but I kill it. Bald Eagles soar over me: —Reveille Rebel! I jump free this weel. On fire. Blaze a breeze. I'll devastate the World. \\ Samsara! Samarra! Grand! I can walk away from anything. Everyone loves the Dream but I kill it. Atlas Mountain Cedars gush over me: —Up Boogaloo! I leap free this spring. On fire. How my hair curls. I'll destroy the World. - Him. Him. Him. Future winds imploring me to stay. But I'm no tomorrow. I'm no yesterday. Only ever contemporary of this way. I will sacrifice everything for all his seasons miss of soaring. He, I sigh from The Mountain top. By him now. My only role. And for that freedom, spread my polar chill, reaching even the warmest climes, a warning upon the back of every life that would by harming Sam's play, ever wayward around this animal streak of orbit & wind, awaken among these cataracts of belligerent ice me. And my Justice. At once. The Vengeance of my awful loss set free upon this crowded land. An old terror violent for the delirium of ends. But to those who would protect him, frightened by such Beauty & Savage Presence to do more, my cool cries will kiss their tender foreheads and my tears will kiss their gentle cheeks, and then if the Kindness of their Love, which only Loving ever binds, spills my ear, for a while I might slip down and play among his foals so green. My barrenness. Sam's solitude. And all his patience now presumes. Luster of Spring's Sacred Brood. By you, ever sixteen, this World's reserved. By you, this World has everything left to lose. And I, your sentry of ice, shall allways protect what your Joy so terrifyingly elects. I'll destroy no World so long it keeps turning with scurry & blush, fledgling & charms beading with dews, and allways our rush returning renewed. Everyone betrays the Dream but who cares for it? O Sam no, I could never walk away from you.

My love must be as free As is the eagle's "wing. Hovering o'er land and sea And everything. I must not dim my eye In thy saloon, I must not leave my sky And nightly moon. 26 Be not the fowler's net "Which stays my flight. And craftily i« set T' allure the sight. But the favoring gale That bears me on. And still doth fill my sail When thou art gone. I can not leave my sky For thy caprice. True love w^ould soar as high As heaven is. The eagle would not brook Her mate thus ^^on. Who trained his eye to look Beneath the sun. Nothing

All about the hills the hosts of Mordor raged. The Captains of the West were foundering in a gathering sea. The sun gleamed red, and under the wings of the Nazgul the shadows of death fell dark upon the earth. Aragorn stood beneath his banner, silent and stern, as one lost in thought of things long past or far away; but his eyes gleamed like stars that shine the brighter as the night deepens. Upon the hill-top stood Gandalf, and he was white and cold and no shadow fell on him. The onslaught of Mordor broke like a wave on the beleaguered hills, voices roaring like a tide amid the wreck and crash of arms. As if to his eyes some sudden vision had been given, Gandalf stirred; and he turned, looking back north where the skies were pale and clear. Then he lifted up his hands and cried in a loud voice ringing above the din: The Eagles are coming! And many voices answered crying: The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming! The hosts of Mordor looked up and wondered what this sign might mean. There came Gwaihir the Windlord, and Landroval his brother, greatest of all the Eagles of the North, mightiest of the descendants of old Thorondor, who built his eyries in the inaccessible peaks of the Encircling Mountains when Middle-earth was young. Behind them in long swift lines came all their vassals from the northern mountains, speeding on a gathering wind. Straight down upon the Nazgul they bore, stooping suddenly out of the high airs, and the rush of their wide wings as they passed over was like a gale. But the Nazgul turned and fled, and vanished into Mordor's shadows, hearing a sudden terrible call out of the Dark Tower; and even at that moment all the hosts of Mordor trembled, doubt clutched their hearts, their laughter failed, their hands shook and their limbs were loosed. The Power that drove them on and filled them with hate and fury was wavering, its will was removed from them; and now looking in the eyes of their enemies they saw a deadly light and were afraid. Then all the Captains of the West cried aloud, for their hearts were filled with a new hope in the midst of darkness. Out from the beleaguered hills knights of Gondor, Riders of Rohan, Dunedain of the North, close-serried companies, drove against their wavering foes, piercing the press with the thrust of bitter spears. But Gandalf lifted up his arms and called once more in a clear voice: 'Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom.' And even as he spoke the earth rocked beneath their feet. Then rising swiftly up, far above the Towers of the Black Gate, high above the mountains, a vast soaring darkness sprang into the sky, flickering with fire. The earth groaned and quaked. The Towers of the Teeth swayed, tottered, and fell down; the mighty rampart crumbled; the Black Gate was hurled in ruin; and from far away, now dim, now growing, now mounting to the clouds, there came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of ruinous noise. 'The realm of Sauron is ended!' said Gandalf. 'The Ring-bearer has fulfilled his Quest.' And as the Captains gazed south to the Land of Mordor, it seemed to them that, black against the pall of cloud, there rose a huge shape of shadow, impenetrable, lightning-crowned, filling all the sky. Enormous it reared above the world, and stretched out towards them a vast threatening hand, terrible but impotent: for even as it leaned over them, a great wind took it, and it was all blown away, and passed; and then a hush fell. The Captains bowed their heads...

I know nothing, nothing again, that is more humbling for us than this doctrine of election. I have sometimes fallen prostrate before it, when endeavoring to understand it. I have stretched my wings, and, eagle-like, I have soared towards the sun. Steady has been my eye, and true my wing, for a season; but, when I came near it, and the one thought possessed me,- ”God hath from the beginning chosen you unto salvation,” I was lost in its lustre, I was staggered with the mighty thought; and from the dizzy elevation down came my soul, prostrate and broken, saying, “Lord, I am nothing, I am less than nothing. Why me? Why me?

A story told me by Michael Barrie: Jesus and the Blessed Virgin go out to play golf. The Blessed Virgin is at the top of her form, drives and lands on the green. Jesus slices and lands in the bushes. A squirrel picks up the ball and runs off with it. A dog grab the squirrel, which still holds the ball in its mouth. An eagle swoops down, picks up the dog, squirrel and ball, and soars into the air. Out of a clear sky, lightning strikes the eagle, which drops the dog which drops the squirrel which drops the ball, right into the hole. The Blessed Virgin throws down her driver and exclaims indignantly, ‘Look, are you going to play golf or just fuck around?

Just then I felt someone touch me on the shoulder. As I turned around, I saw Jesus. He spoke to me and said, “The time has come for my people to arise. They will prophesy what they see. They shall roar like a golden lion. They will shriek like a golden eagle. When this happens the enemy will flee. Tell them the time has come to roar like a lion and to soar like an eagle—soaring to the highest heights of the heavenly realms where they will rise above the confusion and conflicts of the present world. From that place they will overcome the world and enter into My perfect will and the fullness of My rest. Tell them to soar into the heavenly realms and see what must take place after this.” It’s time for the body of Christ to roar and soar. Another

I threw the carving of my goddess as high and far as I could, into the sky above the waves, and watched its arcing path through the air. As it fell, I saw a golden shape come diving toward the plummeting image, a huge eagle that seized the monster’s tooth in his talons. The feathers on his breast skimmed the sea before he soared back into the sky and flew away. “Did you see that, La--Glaucus?” Milo’s voice sounded in my ear. He’d woken from his nap and come up behind me unexpectedly. I almost jumped overboard with surprise. “It’s a good sign, isn’t it? Or is it predicting that something’s waiting to snatch us away? If that’s so, I swear I won’t let it touch you. But is it a good sign after all? Ah, what does it mean?” “You worry too much, Milo,” I said as if I had no such worries of my own. “If every hero stopped to think about all the what-ifs in his path, none of us would ever take one step beyond our own doorways.” “But you saw what it did,” Milo protested. “The eagle is Lord Zeus’s bird. We can’t just ignore it. Ah, what does it mean?” “What it means,” I said, smiling, “is that you and I have just seen either the world’s most unmistakable omen or the world’s most nearsighted eagle.” May the gods stand by us, I thought as I laughed and Milo stared at me in dismay. May they favor and guide us, but may they never hold us hostage through our fears. “Don’t look at me like that,” I told him, wiping sea spray from my eyes. “I haven’t said anything wrong. I love the gods and honor them, but I’m not their slave. Neither are you. From now on we’re going to make our own omens.” I took his hand, and when he pulled it away, I took it again. This time he let me. We were free.

Returning from that task and a visit to a nearby tepee,his eyes twinkled with pride as he offered a tiny rawhide pouch full of elk's teeth to Jesse. She caught her breath.Only two teeth were saved from each elk,and to be able to decorate an entire dress with teeth would put her in a position of envy in the tribe. "How long have you been saving these?" she asked. "I am a skillful hunter...it is nothing," came the proud reply. "I only had to get them back from Running Bear. He has been keeping them for me." Jesse worked all afternoon to add the elks' teeth to her new dress.She scolded herself for her pridefulness, but when she and Rides the Wind attended the celebration,she could not contain her happiness at the admiring glances that came her way.Rides the Wind could not have said what made him prouder-the wife he believed to be beautiful or the brave son who had earned the name Soaring Eagle.

I was a bird. I lived a bird's life from birth to death. I was born the thirty-second chick in the Jipu family. I remember everything in detail. I remember breaking out of the shell at birth. But I learned later that my mother had gently cracked the shell first to ease my way. I dozed under my mother's chest for the first few days. Her feathers were so warm and soft! I was strong, so I kicked away my siblings to keep the cozy spot. Just 10 days after I was born, I was given flying lessons. We all had to learn quickly because there were snakes and owls and hawks. My little brothers and sisters, who didn't practice enough, all died. My little sister looked so unhappy when she got caught. I can still see her face. Before I could fly, I hadn't known that our nest was on the second-lowest branch of a big tree. My parents chose the location wisely. Snakes could reach the lowest branch and eagles and hawks could attack us if we lived at the top. We soared through the sky, above mountains and forests. But it wasn't just for fun! We always had to watch out for enemies, and to hunt for food. Death was always nearby. You could easily starve or freeze to death. Life wasn't easy. Once, I got caught in a monsoon. I smacked into a tree and lay bleeding for days. Many of my family and friends died, one after another. To help rebuild our clan, I found myself a female and married her. She was so sweet. She laid many eggs, but one day, a human cut down the tree we lived in, crushing all the eggs and my beloved. A bird's life is an endless battle against death. I survived for many years before I finally met my end. I found a worm at some harvest festival. I came fluttering down. It was a bad mistake. Some big guy was waiting to ambush hungry little birdies like me. I heard my own guts pop. It was clear to me that I was going to die at last. And I wanted to know where I'd go when I died.

EAGLE The East direction is represented by eagle and condor, who bring vision, clarity, and foresight. Eagle perceives the entire panorama of life without becoming bogged down in its details. The energies of eagle assist us in finding the guiding vision of our lives. The eyes of condor see into the past and the future, helping to know where we come from, and who we are becoming. When I work with a client who is stuck in the traumas of the past, I help her to connect with the spirit of eagle or condor. As this energy infuses the healing space, my client is often able to attain new clarity and insight into her life. This is not an intellectual insight, but rather a call, faint at first, hardly consciously heard. Her possibilities beckon to her and propel her out of her grief and into her destiny. I believe that while everyone has a future, only certain people have a destiny. Having a destiny means living to your fullest human potential. You don’t need to become a famous politician or poet, but your destiny has to be endowed with meaning and purpose. You could be a street sweeper and be living a destiny. You could be the president of a large corporation and be living a life bereft of meaning. One can make oneself available to destiny, but it requires a great deal of courage to do so. Otherwise our destiny bypasses us, leaving us deprived of a fulfillment known by those who choose to take the road less traveled. Eagle allows us to rise above the mundane battles that occupy our lives and consume our energy and attention. Eagle gives us wings to soar above trivial day-to-day struggles into the high peaks close to Heaven. Eagle and condor represent the self-transcending principle in nature. Biologists have identified the self-transcending principle as one of the prime agendas of evolution. Living molecules seek to transcend their selfhood to become cells, then simple organisms, which then form tissues, then organs, and then evolve into complex beings such as humans and whales. Every transcending jump is inclusive of all of the levels beneath it. Cells are inclusive of molecules, yet transcend them; organs are inclusive of cells, yet go far beyond them; whales are inclusive of organs yet cannot be described by them, as the whole transcends the sum of its parts. The transcending principle represented by eagle states that problems at a certain level are best solved by going up one step. The problems of cells are best resolved by organs, while the needs of organs are best addressed by an organism such as a butterfly or a human. The same principle operates in our lives. Think of nested Russian dolls. Material needs are the tiny doll in the center. The larger emotional doll encompasses them, and both are contained within the outermost spiritual doll. In this way, we cannot satisfy emotional needs with material things, but we can satisfy them spiritually. When we go one step up, our emotional needs are addressed in the solution. We rise above our life dilemmas on the wings of eagle and see our lives in perspective.

I ventured to place my hand on the large wings that lay folded on his breast, and in doing so a slight shock as of electricity passed through me. I recoiled in fear; my host smiled, and as if courteously to gratify my curiosity, slowly expanded his pinions. I observed that his garment beneath them became dilated as a bladder that fills with air. The arms seemed to slide into the wings, and in another moment he had launched himself into the luminous atmosphere, and hovered there, still, and with outspread wings, as an eagle that basks in the sun. Then, rapidly as an eagle swoops, he rushed downwards into the midst of one of the groups, skimming through the midst, and as suddenly again soaring aloft. Thereon, three forms, in one of which I thought to recognise my host’s daughter, detached themselves from the rest, and followed him as a bird sportively follows a bird. My eyes, dazzled with the lights and bewildered by the throngs, ceased to distinguish the gyrations and evolutions of these winged playmates, till presently my host re-emerged from the crowd and alighted at my side.

She Is Remarkable Salute to the woman who knows who she is And why she is who she is A powerful being Once thrown into the deep end of the ocean But swam her way back to shore She never stops moving forward Nothing can ever pull her backwards Such a brave warrior Shout out to the superwoman Determined to change the status quo Because she feels the need to do so Just like an eagle She soars higher and higher As the wind blows stronger She does not let anything deter her From reaching another level in life Thumbs up to an amazing woman A great force to be reckoned with That committed Mother on the street Who trades from sunrise to sunset Trying to make ends meet Oh, she has a heart so big Being mindful that come snow or sunshine She has mouths to feed I revere this gifted woman Who uses her creativity To make an impact in society Despite the uniqueness of her talent She remains a trendsetter It could be the potter in whose hands clay becomes magic The miner who touches gold, before it even gets sold to the markets Or the strategist who sits in high-level meetings, making sure organisations do not collapse A special mention to the special woman Who chooses not to give up She understands that others look up to her The smart lady out there, with a clear vision She makes things happen for her family, community, and the world at large She deserves a badge of honour Because she is remarkable!

The Unknown Soldier A tale to tell in bloody rhyme, A story to last ’til the dawn of end’s time. Of a loving boy who left dear home, To bear his countries burdens; her honor to sow. –A common boy, I say, who left kith and kin, To battle der Kaiser and all that was therein. The Arsenal of Democracy was his kind, –To make the world safe–was their call and chime. Trained he thus in the far army camps, Drilled he often in the march and stamp. Laughed he did with new found friends, Lived they together for the noble end. Greyish mottled images clipp’ed and hack´ed– Black and white broke drum Ʀ…ɧ..λ..t…ʮ..m..ȿ —marching armies off to ’ttack. Images scratched, chopped, theatrical exaggerate, Confetti parades, shouts of high praise To where hell would sup and partake with all bon hope as the transport do them take Faded icons board the ship– To steel them away collaged together –joined in spirit and hip. Timeworn humanity of once what was To broker peace in eagles and doves. Mortal clay in the earth but to grapple and smite As warbirds ironed soar in heaven’s light. All called all forward to divinities’ kept date, Heroes all–all aces and fates. Paris–Used to sing and play at some cards, A common Joe everybody knew from own heart. He could have been called ‘the kid’ by the ‘old man,’ But a common private now taking orders to stand. Receiving letters from his shy sweet one, Read them over and over until they faded to none. Trained like hell with his Commander-in-Arms, –To avoid the dangers of a most bloody harm. Aye, this boy was mortal, true enough said, He could be one of thousands alive but now surely dead. How he sang and cried and ate the gruel of rations, And grumbled as soldiers do at war’s great contagions. Out–out to the battle this young did go, To become a man; the world to show. (An ocean away his mother cried so– To return her boy safe as far as the heavens go). Lay he down in trenched hole, With balls bursting overhead upon the knoll. Listened hardnfast to the “Sarge” bearing the news, —“We’re going over soon—” was all he knew. The whistle blew; up and over they went, Charging the Hun, his life to be spent (“Avoid the gas boys that’ll blister yer arse!!”). Running through wires razored and deadened trees, Fell he into a gouge to find in shelter of need (They say he bayoneted one just as he–, face to face in War’s Dance of trialed humanity). A nameless sonnuvabitch shell then did untimely RiiiiiiiP the field asunder in burrrstzʑ–and he tripped. And on the field of battle’s blood did he die, Faceless in a puddle as blurrs of ghosting men shrieked as they were fleeing by–. Perished he alone in the no man’s land, Surrounded by an army of his brother’s teeming bands . . . And a world away a mother sighed, Listened to the rain and lay down and cried. . . . Today lays the grave somber and white, Guarded decades long in both the dark and the light. Silent sentinels watch o’er and with him do walk, Speak they neither; their duty talks. Lone, stark sentries perform the unsmiling task, –Guarding this one dead–at the nation’s bequest. Cared over day and night in both rain or sun, Present changing of the guard and their duty is done (The changing of the guard ’tis poetry motioned A Nation defining itself–telling of rifles twirl-clicking under the intensest of devotions). This poem–of The Unknown, taken thus, Is rend eternal by Divinity’s Iron Trust. How he, a common soldier, gained the estate Of bearing his countries glory unto his unknown fate. Here rests in honored glory a warrior known but to God, Now rests he in peace from the conflict path he trod. He is our friend, our family, brother, our mother’s son –belongs he to us all, For he has stood in our place–heeding God’s final call.

God continually chooses the least likely to be chosen, the broken and the humble. It’s clearly His modus operandi. I’ve heard this response from people when I talk about this idea: “But how can we possibly get things done without big-time visionaries? Without massive plans to save the world?” Well, the Bible actually singles out a specific, heroic animal species to illustrate how to get things done. If you want to know how to do it, don’t go to the soaring eagle. Don’t go to the impressive, roaring lion, either. God may have a different idea: Go watch the ants, you lazy person. Watch what they do and be wise. Ants have no commander, no leader or ruler, but they store up food in the summer and gather their supplies at harvest. (Prov. 6:6–8 NCV) Yes. Watch how the ants operate. They get it. Sure enough, modern research shows just how remarkable ants are. They all know what to do and when to do it. They know when to rest, when to battle intruders, when to take care of their eggs, all of it. If there are too many ants foraging, just enough ants decide to quit foraging and take on other jobs. They know how to build massive anthills that are marvels of construction engineering. And they do it all without a hierarchy. They manage it all without management. They get it done without any one ant knowing the “big picture.” No ant is a superstar. No ant is irreplaceable. How they operate is still somewhat mysterious to science, but scientists do know that ants just use the information that’s in front of them, and then they respond. That’s it. That’s all the information an ant has. The Bible singles out a species wherein every individual member does whatever needs doing, just by responding to what’s in front of it. An ant can’t worry about the big blueprint. No ant actually has the big picture. If they each do their thing, the thing right in front of them, the big picture takes care of itself.

What?' He cried, darting at him a look of fury: 'Dare you still implore the Eternal's mercy? Would you feign penitence, and again act an Hypocrite's part? Villain, resign your hopes of pardon. Thus I secure my prey!' As He said this, darting his talons into the Monk's shaven crown, He sprang with him from the rock. The Caves and mountains rang with Ambrosio's shrieks. The Daemon continued to soar aloft, till reaching a dreadful height, He released the sufferer. Headlong fell the Monk through the airy waste; The sharp point of a rock received him; and He rolled from precipice to precipice, till bruised and mangled He rested on the river's banks. Life still existed in his miserable frame: He attempted in vain to raise himself; His broken and dislocated limbs refused to perform their office, nor was He able to quit the spot where He had first fallen. The Sun now rose above the horizon; Its scorching beams darted full upon the head of the expiring Sinner. Myriads of insects were called forth by the warmth; They drank the blood which trickled from Ambrosio's wounds; He had no power to drive them from him, and they fastened upon his sores, darted their stings into his body, covered him with their multitudes, and inflicted on him tortures the most exquisite and insupportable. The Eagles of the rock tore his flesh piecemeal, and dug out his eyeballs with their crooked beaks. A burning thirst tormented him; He heard the river's murmur as it rolled beside him, but strove in vain to drag himself towards the sound. Blind, maimed, helpless, and despairing, venting his rage in blasphemy and curses, execrating his existence, yet dreading the arrival of death destined to yield him up to greater torments, six miserable days did the Villain languish. On the Seventh a violent storm arose: The winds in fury rent up rocks and forests: The sky was now black with clouds, now sheeted with fire: The rain fell in torrents; It swelled the stream; The waves overflowed their banks; They reached the spot where Ambrosio lay, and when they abated carried with them into the river the Corse of the despairing Monk.

Look not too long in the face of fire, o man! Never dream with thy hand on the helm! Turn not thy back to the compass; accept the first hint of the hitching thriller; believe not the artificial fire, when its redness makes all things look ghastly. To-morrow, in the natural sun, the skies will be bright; those who glared like devils in the forking flames, the morn will show in far other, at least gentler, relief; the glorious, golden, glad sun, the only true lamp- all others but liars! Nevertheless the sun hides not Virginia's Dismal Swamp, nor Rome's accursed Campagna, nor wide Sahara, nor all the millions of miles of deserts and of griefs beneath the moon. The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true- not true, or undeveloped. With books the same. The truest of all men was the Man of Sorrows, and the truest of all books is Solomon's, and Ecclesiastes is the fine hammered steel of woe. "All is vanity." All. This wilful world hath not got hold of unchristian Solomon's wisdom yet. But he who dodges hospitals and jails, and walks fast crossing grave-yards, and would rather talk of operas than hell; calls Cowper, Young, Pascal, Rousseau, poor devils all of sick men; and throughout a care-free lifetime swears by Rabelais as passing wise, and therefor jolly;- not that man is fitted to sit down on tomb-stones, and break the green damp mould with unfathomably wondrous Solomon. But even Solomon, he says, "the man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain" (i.e., even while living) "in the congregation of the dead." Give not thyself up, then, to the fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee; as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.

Truth is nightmare. All the nightmares have come back home. We send them out at night to terrify the normal, to show them a glimpse of our world, our world of burning Viking longboats sailing over the edge of this cursed earth, plunging into the Sirens’ immortal abyss. A cruel eagle soars over a lake of mothers’ tears, a blood-drenched witness to a Spanish festival of murder, a thousand scarlet massacres on the silver plains ruled by brutal Aztec princes. We are standing amidst a Byzantine legend of pain and we are happy. We communicate directly with the center of the earth. Only pain lives there. That is why we revere it.

For my part, I still searched for something more than the verses, vows and veneration I’d found in the books of believers. And while I doubted everything in myself, Abdullah was always and ever certain: as confident in his invincibility as the strongest eagle, soaring above his head in the hovering Bombay sky. We were different men, with different ways to love, and different instincts for the fight. But friendship is faith, too, especially for those of us who don’t believe in much else. And the simple truth was that my heart always rose, always soared in the little sky inside, whenever I saw him.

The eagles who soar through the sky are at rest And the creatures who crawl, run, and creep. I know you’re not thirsty. That’s bullshit. Stop lying. Lie the fuck down, my darling, and sleep.

IAM What I have survived might have killed me, but I did not die; I rise and keep soaring like the eagle I am. I have made an arduous but rewarding journey for myself and for the generation that will follow.

Maybe this thing I feel is a wild herd thundering on the plains of Ember. Maybe those are roses blooming open in Storm. Maybe that is a golden eagle soaring in the sky, high above a beach. Or maybe it’s all my heart.

Eagle & I - An Acrostic Embracing depths, I spread my wings Above the world, where wisdom sings Graceful soar, to the cave of my heart Letting go of doubts, indeed a tough art Earnestly abiding here, never shall I part & I You are that Eagle You are that I You are that Heart Never Apart!

If you want to SOAR in life, you must learn to FLY: First Love Yourself.

I was there because I believe in the supreme power of storytelling. It’s been the one through line in all my work. It’s really the only superpower we humans have. Think about it. The cheetah is faster, the elephant stronger, the eagle can soar much higher than any Olympic pole vaulter. Storytelling is the best thing about being human. And I believe it can change the world. That’s right. Stories can and do change the world.

before long you’re going to be filled with faith. But you cannot soar with the eagles as long as you’re pecking around with the chickens.

The wise ones say, it’s easy to be critical, find fault & stir up the negative. That’s being a Crow. But, you’re an Eagle. Stop being a grumpy crow – spread your wings & be the Eagle you are – full of beauty, bravery, courage, honour, pride, determination & grace… Darling listen – if there is something that is stopping you from being an Eagle, it is you, yourself. Make a promise to yourself (& to your world) today, that from this moment on, you will forever be the Eagle NOT the Crow… Sweetheart, Keep Fit & Keep Flying High! Don’t wait to fill this moment with good times, action & adventure! Happy Saturday! May your day soar as high as an eagle’s wings, but without the whole needing-to-catch-a prey thing...

In the difficult hours of life, when you feel like fainting and giving up, turn to this magnificent promise from Isaiah 40:31. Let’s consider what it means to us today. First of all, God promises to help us fly. There are times in our lives when the only solution is to fly—to rise above the problems of life and soar over them. God wants to make eagles out of us, but sometimes we prefer to crawl like ants. What a tragedy! God is able to lift you above those difficult circumstances that have trapped you. This doesn’t mean you ignore them or forget them; it means that you rise above them and get a heavenly perspective. The eagle is able to fly miles up in the sky—and when you do that, the things on earth start to look much smaller. Yes, my friend, God promises to make you fly.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there, I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air.... Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace. Where never lark, or even eagle flew — And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space, - Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Faith confessions for a beautiful future and hope: • "I declare that my future is bright and secure in God's hands, and I trust Him to guide me towards a hope-filled tomorrow." (Jeremiah 29:11) • "I confess that God is my rock and my salvation, and He will never fail me. I trust Him to lead me into a future filled with promise and purpose." (Psalm 62:2) • "I declare that God's plans for me are to prosper me, not to harm me, and to give me a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11) • "I confess that I am not limited by my current circumstances, for God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that I ask or think, according to His power that works in me." (Ephesians 3:20) • "I declare that my hope is in the Lord, and He will renew my strength and give me wings like eagles, so I can soar into a bright and beautiful future." (Isaiah 40:31) Remember to hold on to these confessions with faith and patience, trusting that God's power and love are at work in your life, shaping a beautiful future for you. Keep seeking Him and His guidance, and believe that He is working for your good.

AN EAGLE, overwhelmed with sorrow, sat upon the branches of a tree, in company with a Kite. Why, said the Kite: do I see you with such a rueful look? I seek, she replied: for a mate suitable for me, and am not able to find one. Take me, returned the Kite: I am much stronger than you are. Why, are you able to secure the means of living by your plunder? Well, I have often caught and carried away an ostrich in my talons. The Eagle, persuaded by these words, accepted him as her mate. Shortly after the nuptials, the Eagle said: Fly off and bring me back the ostrich you promised me. The Kite, soaring aloft into the air, brought back the shabbiest possible mouse. Is this, said the Eagle: the faithful fulfillment of your promise to me? The Kite replied: That I might attain your royal hand, there is nothing that I would not have promised, however much I knew that I must fail in the performance.

Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:30–31).

How Can You Soar Like An Eagle When You’re Surrounded by Turkeys?

If you’re going to hoot with the owls, you’d better be able to soar with the eagles the next day.

Child of the Most High, step out of your comfort zone right now. You have mountains to climb. Go on and scale them one by one, no matter how tough. Pursue your purpose in your lifetime. It will be challenging at the start, but after some time, it will be worthwhile. Like an eagle, you will soar high, and you will experience superior might. Do not give up!

Child of the Most High, step out of your comfort zone right now. You have mountains to climb. Go on and scale them one by one, no matter how tough. Pursue your purpose in your lifetime. It will be challenging at the start, but after some time, it will be worthwhile. Like an eagle, you will soar high, and you will experience superior might. Do not give up!

Purpose is where every moment is worth living for. Learn to see your purpose as a blessing—a joy that helps you open the right door and makes you soar far above the clouds where eagles dare to explore.

**Verse 1:** Out on the range, where the wildflowers bloom, I saddle up as the day breaks through. The stirrup creaks, and the bridle shakes, As I ride my steed by the crystal lakes. **Chorus:** Riding high, riding free, Like a cowboy in an old movie. With every trot, I find my course, There's no better friend than my trusty horse. **Verse 2:** We gallop along, just my horse and me, Through golden fields, as far as the eye can see. The wind's in my hair, the sun's on my face, Together we're running, setting the pace. **Chorus:** Riding high, riding free, Like a drifter with no place to be. With every canter, I feel the force, Of the powerful heart of my gallant horse. **Bridge:** Under the big sky, we chase the sun, Two hearts beating, we move as one. The world's a blur, we're in our prime, In this moment, we lose all track of time. **Chorus:** Riding high, riding free, Like an eagle soaring over the sea. With every gallop, life takes its course, There's no better feeling than riding horses. **Outro:** So let's ride on until the day is done, Under the fading light of the setting sun. We'll head on home, but of course, Tomorrow we'll ride again, me and my horse.

Fly with love in your heart; the smile of happiness embedded within; the joy of freedom and then you will know what it is to soar like an eagle.

A young man’s heart is as vast as the heavenly sphere. Both are open and accommodating. A superior man has the best inner qualities, spacious enough for a white eagle to circle and soar, ta la la. A mediocre man has middling inner qualities, boastfully displaying his sword, arrow, and knife, the threefold panoply, khyil lé lé. The inferior man has poor inner qualities, at a mere utterance, his knife handle will fly.

We do not need to go “somewhere” to find God, any more than the fish needs to soar to find the ocean or the eagle to plunge to find the air.

Like an Eagle I Soar unrestricted, High above the opinions and gossip of the herd Attentive in Every Moment Ready to dive into every enriching opportunity I am Fearless, I am a Powerhouse, I am a Champion

Soar like an eagle to the highest mountain top - prepare to take flight

Soaring trough the sky like an eagle. Only the eagle a 300 pound car with a kickass rack

Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

American Rocker” I was born in the land of the brave, where the eagles soar and roam, With the roar of the rivers and the whisper of the wind, in the place I call my home. My heart beats to the rhythm of the drums, and the guitars strumming wild, In the land of the free, I stand with pride, an everlasting American child. 'Cause I'm American, through and through, My soul's painted in red, white, and blue. I rock to the core, with freedom's sound, In the USA, where my roots are found. From the neon lights of the bustling cities to the quiet country roads, I've seen the beauty of the starlit skies and where the mighty Mississippi flows. I've danced in the rain and I've faced the sun, with a spirit that won't be tamed, In every note I play, in every word I say, I'm American, unashamed. We're the land of the dreamers, the home of the brave, Our anthem rings true, for the free and the saved. We'll rock this country, from dusk till dawn, With the power of the word, and the strength to carry on. 'Cause I'm American, through and through, My soul's painted in red, white, and blue. I rock to the core, with freedom's sound, In the USA, where my roots are found. So let the guitars wail, let the drums beat hard, As we sing our song, under the stripes and stars. We're American rockers, with a story to tell, In the land we love, where our hearts dwell.

I am an American" Verse 1: I am an American, free born and free bred, With the stars and stripes flying high above my head. My old man said, “Son, when it’s time to be counted, Be man enough to stand up, don’t you ever doubt it.” Chorus: This country ain’t built by those who hate it, It’s built on the shoulders of those who love it. From the fields of the heartland to the city lights, We stand together, ready to fight. Verse 2: In the land of the brave, where the eagles soar, We work hard every day, always wanting more. With grit and grace, we face the storm, In the land of the free, where dreams are born. Chorus: This country ain’t built by those who hate it, It’s built on the shoulders of those who love it. From the fields of the heartland to the city lights, We stand together, ready to fight. Bridge: When the night is dark and the road is long, We find our strength in a country song. With tears in our eyes and hope in our hearts, We hold on tight, never falling apart. Through the trials and the pain, we rise above, In this land we cherish, this land we love. Chorus: This country ain’t built by those who hate it, It’s built on the shoulders of those who love it. From the fields of the heartland to the city lights, We stand together, ready to fight. Outro: I am an American, free born and free bred, With the stars and stripes flying high above my head. My old man said, “Son, when it’s time to be counted, Be man enough to stand up, don’t you ever doubt it.

161. Purpose is what puts a blind man on a global stage and lets the whole world watch him play. It is what makes a stammering man cause people to listen to him and be dismayed. Purpose is the chief motive behind a lame man's ability to steer things in the right direction on any given day. It makes a weak man find strength to soar with the eagles and be great. Purpose transcends the human’s ability to perform certain things in certain ways, because God is more concerned about what you do, regardless of how you look.

Purpose is what puts a blind man on a global stage and lets the whole world watch him play. It is what makes a stammering man cause people to listen to him and be dismayed. Purpose is the chief motive behind a lame man's ability to steer things in the right direction on any given day. It makes a weak man find strength to soar with the eagles and be great. Purpose transcends the human’s ability to perform certain things in certain ways, because God is more concerned about what you do, regardless of how you look.

The Ascending Eagle by Stewart Stafford I shall not stray down spurious alleys, In pursuit of such desiccated husks, To be a leaf adrift in vacuous air, Bewildered on my windswept path. Past the labyrinth of rustling choices, Swirl fragments of doubt and error. Life's force is a finite magic spark, Some squander before they depart, When climbing into our grave pits, Twisted wreckage we leave behind. Yet, in regret's deepening shades, Lie orphans of our broken dreams. The eagle, in cerulean-skied flight, Took wing as a frightened chick, Victory plucked from disaster's beak, Trial and error are brick-tough fellows. Guided by shimmering thermals below, Soaring to its future beyond the horizon. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.

Are you the dove or the statue? Soaring with the eagles leaving the turkeys behind. May our highest Supreme Being be with you and give you lots of Real Love and Happiness in your life.

Jesus, may the unsearchable, innumerable, and inexhaustible riches of the gospel renew me today with youth-like energy, that I may soar like an eagle and live to the praise of your glorious grace! Amen.

Does the hawk take flight on your advice when he spreads his wings to travel south? Does the eagle soar at your command to make her eyrie in the heights?

You, my Lord, are the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. You will not grow tired or weary, and Your understanding no one can fathom. You give strength to the weary and increase the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but when I hope in You, O, Lord, my strength will be renewed. I will soar on wings like eagles; I will run and not grow weary, I will walk and not faint. (Isa. 40:28–31)

For eagles soar higher without baggage.

I saw that I had forgotten how beautiful the drive to Thunder Bay was; the towering sighing groves of fragrant Norway pines, the broad expanses of clean white sand, the sea gulls, always the endlessly wheeling sea gulls; an occasional bald eagle seeming bent on soaring straight up to heaven; the intermittent craggy and pine-clad granite or sandstone hills, sometimes rising gauntly to the dignity of small mountains, then again, sudden stretches of sand or more majestic Norway pines -- and always, of course, the vast glittering heaving lake, the world's largest inland sea, as treacherous and deceitful as a spurned woman, either caressing or raging at the shore, more often turbulent than not, but today on its best company manners, presenting the falsely placid aspect of a mill pond.

when you seem to get yourself down, teach yourself to think like the eagle always, and let your spirit soar high. Feel the strength of his wings, and feel the beat of his heart so that your spirit soars high and you can look down and see just how small things really are.

of peace and love on a woman’s face.” Augusta’s

happy. I’ve never seen such a look of peace and love on a woman’s face.” Augusta’s

Our persecutors are swifter than the eagles of the heaven: they pursued us upon the mountains, they laid wait for us in the wilderness.—Lamentations

We are becoming like the mound of earth that rises from the waters of the Moonshell. All around us the white men swirl, taking more and more of the small mound of earth on which we live.” Shots

the Sioux did not rejoice. Too many of their own had been lost that day. When

My friend, you are called to be an eagle. You are called to soar, to do great things. But we all have some crows squawking at us, some chickens pecking at us, some hawks attacking us. They are trying to bait us into conflict. Don’t get drawn into those battles. You have an advantage. You’re an eagle. You can fly at heights to which no other birds can soar. Crows love to pester eagles. The eagle is much larger, but the crow is more agile so it can turn and maneuver more quickly. At times the crow will come up behind the eagle and dive-bomb the big bird. But the eagle knows this secret: It can fly at altitudes that the crow cannot fly, as high as twenty thousand feet. So instead of bothering with the pesky crow and its squawking, the eagle simply rises higher and higher and eventually the crow is left behind. Do the same when someone is pestering you out of jealousy or spite. Soar above. Leave them behind.

One way is how he soars high above the clouds. The second way is when the eagle sits on a tree branch looking over the countryside. The third way is when he grabs his prey on the prairie. The fourth wya is when his protective eyes are keeping you safe at all times. The fifth way is when the eagle lets us borrow his feathers, The sixty way is when he talks to the rest of the sacred animals so they can also keep you protected. The seventh way his how the eagle sits waiting for your own flight to the sky. (Tonia Scabby Face, student)

She soars with eagles and navigates by rainbows.

Do you realize you can buy an oceanfront house in Newfoundland for $10,000? Perched on granite cliffs rising several hundred feet in the air. In a small working fishing village equipped with high speed internet, a store, a school, a medical centre, a community hall, a ferry service, a bed and breakfast, and a church. With a surprisingly moderate winter climate and a pace of life unlike any you probably know. Where whales break the ocean's surface a short distance from your front door, while bald eagles soar overhead. And where, on a nice day, you can see France - St. Pierre and Miquelon - as you stroll the boardwalk.

I wish to see what an eagle looks like. Dad and mom once told us we are going to soar like a golden eagle.

Gross! How on earth do people drink black coffee? Outside of pioneer times when they had no other choice?

furrow my brow.

Look a yonder at that eagle. This here is why I’m grateful. The good Lord feeds my soul. He mounts me up on wings like that there eagle, and He sets me to soar through the mornin on the breath of the day.” She sighed. “Ain’t it beautiful?

In Russia in 1839, Custine wrote that Tsar Nicholas I was both eagle and insect: eagle because he soared over society surveying it with a sharp raptor’s eye from above, and insect because he bored himself into every tiny crack and crevice of society from below. Nothing was either too large or too small for his attention; and sometimes one feels that political correctness is rather like that. For the politically correct, nothing is too large or too small to escape their puritanical attention. As a consequence, we suspect that we are living an authoritarian prelude to a totalitarian future.

The Ravenclaw heraldic beast is a proud eagle, and the house colours are bronze and blue. The eagle, like a true Ravenclaw, soars to heights others cannot reach

The bald eagle was still soaring above them, too, showing them that anything was possible, even a return from near extinction, as long as you had a little help.

The Super Eagles soared and soared but La Albiceleste was flying in very bright colours.

Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard? The eternal God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, doesn’t grow tired or become weary. His understanding is beyond reach. He gives strength to those who grow tired and increases the strength of those who are weak. Even young people grow tired and become weary, and young men will stumble and fall. Yet, the strength of those who wait with hope in the LORD will be renewed. They will soar on wings like eagles. They will run and won’t become weary. They will walk and won’t grow tired. Isaiah 40:28-31

On August 18, 1941, Officer John Gillespie Magee, Jr. of the Royal Canadian Air Force took a new airplane, the Spitfire Mk I, on a test flight. Magee had received his wings as a pilot only two months earlier. As he flew the Spitfire up to new heights of 33,000 feet, he felt inspired to write a poem that has now become the official poem of both the Royal Canadian Air Force and the British Royal Air Force. Short films have been created with this poem as a basis. In its entirety or in part, the poem can be found in songs, on headstones, in presidential addresses, in museums, and in eulogies. Some have even used it as a prayer. High Flight Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds—and done a hundred things You have not done—wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there, I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air. Up, up the long, delirious blue I’ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace Where never lark, or even eagle flew. And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Believers do not carry their faith, faith is their wings. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary.

soaring with the eagles leaving the turkeys behind

the truths of sovereign grace emboldened these men to further the cause of Christ on the earth. This fact should not surprise us, as history reveals that those who embrace these truths are granted extraordinary confidence in their God. With an enlarged vision of Him, they step forward and accomplish the work of many men, leaving a godly influence on generations to come. They arise with wings like eagles and soar over their times in history. Experientially, the doctrines of grace renew their spirits and empower them to serve God in their divinely appointed hours.

I have many lovers. Where ever I look, I find them. There is no place devoid of them. They are everywhere: In the enchanting Cottonwood trees, The rivers, the rocky roads, the hills, the mystic trails, The snow capped mountains, The skies, the clouds, the soaring Eagles, The blackness of night, as black as the Raven, The absolute brave Cactus, Listening to me, and the whispers I breathe. Where ever I, look I find them. There is no place devoid of them. My lovers are everywhere. They are everywhere: In the rains, the freezing winds, The sun, the moonlight, The darkness of despair, The days of pain and sorrow, They never leave me, or betray me, Or ever forsake me, Even in my unfaithfulness, They remain mine. Am I blessed, crazy, or blind? However much I dare, Even in those careless moments; they care. Where ever I look, I find them, There is no place devoid of them, My lovers are everywhere. They are everywhere: I close my eye’s, I see them, They appear to me patiently, like some ancient melody, in my waking dreams, they are like wise prophets, twirling in compassionate dances of forgiveness. Allowing me my mistakes of existence, They give me, ‘me’, Reach for my fears, cradle and hold me. They are everywhere. I will regenerate, and shine through their presence. Through their guidance, from their quiet empowerment, I will gather myself, pick up my pride, Understand ‘life’, and remember reality. Finally, when my ‘being’ remains not with me, they will once again redefine, re-collect me, recreate the aura around me, find another place to replant me. They are everywhere. No place is devoid of them. Countless lovers. Their love: Omnipresent. Only if one can ‘see’, These lovers are everywhere .

Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. ISAIAH 40:31