Ostrich Head In Sand Quotes

In the land of the ostriches, the blind are king. When politicians bury their head in the sand, ignorance rules the country. ( "High noon." )

We cannot play ostrich. Democracy just cannot flourish amid fear. Liberty cannot bloom amid hate. Justice cannot take root amid rage. America must get to work. In the chill climate in which we live, we must go against the prevailing wind. We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from the fear, the hatred and the mistrust. We must dissent from a nation that has buried its head in the sand, waiting in vain for the needs of its poor, its elderly, and its sick to disappear and just blow away. We must dissent from a government that has left its young without jobs, education or hope. We must dissent from the poverty of vision and the absence of moral leadership. We must dissent because America can do better, because America has no choice but to do better.

Madness is the WHO staring into the abyss and denying it is there. Madness is an ostrich who sticks her head in the sand while a pack of hyenas closes around her. - Lanky Man with green eyes

The ostrich burying its head in the sand does at any rate wish to convey the impression that its head is the most important part of it.

Madness is an ostrich who sticks her head in the sand while a pack of hyenas closes in around her.

I've always been a bit like an ostrich, willing to bury my head in the sand to avoid what I don't want to face

If you stick your head in the sand like an ostrich, pretending you don't exist - why get upset when the world agrees with you/

Madness is an ostrich who sticks her head in the sand while a pack of hyenas closes in around her

What could she do, bound as she was by the tyranny of silence? She dared not explain the girl to herself...that wilfully selfish tyranny of silence evolved by a crafty old ostrich of a world for its own well-being and comfort. The world hid its head in the sands of convention, so that seeing nothing it might avoid Truth...if silence is golden it is also in this case, very expedient.

I’m often inclined to overprepare. But more to the point, I’ve always been a bit like an ostrich, willing to bury my head in the sand to avoid what I don’t want to face.

If you stick your head in the sand like an ostrich, pretending you don't exist – why get upset when the world agrees with you?

Because I’m not only a flaming asshole. I’m a wimp, too. Or maybe, more accurately, I’m a cowardly ostrich who was hoping, in that moment, to bury my head in the sand and pretend this morning’s hideousness never happened.

The first discovery of Dostoievsky is, for a spiritual adventurer, such a shock as is not likely to occur again. One is staggered, bewildered, insulted. It is like a hit in the face, at the end of a dark passage; a hit in the face, followed by the fumbling of strange hands at one's throat. Everything that has been forbidden, by discretion, by caution, by self-respect, by atavistic inhibition, seems suddenly to leap up out of the darkness and seize upon one with fierce, indescribable caresses. 　　All that one has felt, but has not dared to think; all that one has thought, but has not dared to say; all the terrible whispers from the unspeakable margins; all the horrible wreckage and silt from the unsounded depths, float in upon us and overpower us. There is so much that the other writers, even the realists among them, cannot, will not, say. There is so much that the normal self-preservative instincts in ourselves do not want said. But this Russian has no mercy. Such exposures humiliate and disgrace? What matter? It is well that we should be so laid bare. Such revelations provoke and embarrass? What matter? We require embarrassment. The quicksilver of human consciousness must have no closed chinks, no blind alleys. It must be compelled to reform its microcosmic reflections, even down there, where it has to be driven by force. It is extraordinary how superficial even the great writers are; how lacking in the Mole's claws, in the Woodpecker's beak! They seem labouring beneath some pathetic vow, exacted by the Demons of our Fate, under terrible threats, only to reveal what will serve their purpose! This applies as much to the Realists, with their traditional animal chemistry, as to the Idealists, with their traditional ethical dynamics. It applies, above all, to the interpreters of Sex, who, in their conventional grossness, as well as in their conventional discretion, bury such Ostrich heads in the sand!

where you are literally unaware of everything outside your field of attention. That’s not focus; that’s being an ostrich with your head in the sand. Otherwise known as blissful denial. In business, also known as suicide. You have to stay aware of it all and at the same time be totally focused. Like most truths that really matter, it’s a paradox

Sometimes she thought of David as an ostrich, burying his head in the sand and forcing himself to believe that all would be well. It was one of the few things about him that she found frustrating. It wasn't so much optimism as an inability to face reality and a tendency to look for the easy way out. It wasn't going to work this time. There was no easy way out.

{...], reality is painful, so people invent justifications and use them to supplant measurement of reality. We could use the old cliché of an ostrich hiding its head in the sand, but only if there's a television down there, dramatizing the sadness. It is an inversion of art: instead of singing the beautiful, we find praises for the ugly and disguise it as beauty, because we have lost belief in beauty. As good nihilists, we note that this loss of beauty is vested more in belief than in beauty. We have made beauty contingent upon so many moral justifications that it is socially taboo to note beauty without somehow tying it to the plight of the disadvantaged.

I was afraid of anyone in a costume. A trip to see Santa might as well have been a trip to sit on Hitler's lap for all the trauma it would cause me. Once, when I was four, my mother and I were in a Sears and someone wearing an enormous Easter Bunny costume headed my way to present me with a chocolate Easter egg. I was petrified by this nightmarish six-foot-tall bipedal pink fake-fur monster with human-sized arms and legs and a soulless, impassive face heading toward me. It waved halfheartedly as it held a piece of candy out in an evil attempt to lure me into its clutches. Fearing for my life, I pulled open the bottom drawer of a display case and stuck my head inside, the same way an ostrich buries its head in the sand. This caused much hilarity among the surrounding adults, and the chorus of grown-up laughter I heard echoing from within that drawer only added to the horror of the moment. Over the next several years, I would run away in terror from a guy in a gorilla suit whose job it was to wave customers into a car wash, a giant Uncle Sam on stilts, a midget dressed like a leprechaun, an astronaut, the Detroit Tigers mascot, Ronald McDonald, Big Bird, Bozo the Clown, and every Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Pluto, Chip and Dale, Uncle Scrooge, and Goofy who walked the streets at Disneyland. Add to this an irrational fear of small dogs that saw me on more than one occasion fleeing in terror from our neighbor's four-inch-high miniature dachschund as if I were being chased by the Hound of the Baskervilles and a chronic case of germ phobia, and it's pretty apparent that I was--what some of the less politically correct among us might call--a first-class pussy.

And Puddle was helpless. What could she do, bound as she was by the tyranny of silence? She dared not explain the girl to herself, dared not say: 'For your own sake you must go to Oxford, you'll need every weapon your brain can give you; being what you are you'll need every weapon,' for then certainly Stephen would start to question, and her teacher's very position of trust would forbid her to answer those questions. Outrageous, Puddle would feel it to be, that wilfully selfish tyranny of silence evolved by a crafty old ostrich of a world for its own wellbeing and comfort. The world hid its head in the sands of convention, so that seeing nothing it might avoid Truth. It said to itself: 'If seeing's believing, then I don't want to see—if silence is golden, it is also, in this case, very expedient.' There were moments when Puddle would feel sorely tempted to shout out loud at the world.

Some hunters like to shoot ostriches that have their heads buried in the sand.

Sometimes she thought of David as an ostrich, burying his head in the sand and forcing himself to believe that all would be well. It was one of the few things about him that she found frustrating. It wasn’t so much optimism as an inability to face reality and a tendency to look for the easy way out. It wasn’t going to work this time. There was no easy way out.

Each year there are new scientific breakthroughs, many of which contradict the old ones. Blinding myself by becoming set in my bigoted, limited perspective was equivalent to an ostrich burying its head in the sand at the threat of encroaching danger.

You’re just the same, David. You don’t like talking about anything unpleasant.” “ Who does! ” I exclaimed. “ But it’s like an ostrich, burying its head in the sand! ” “ Not really,” I said thoughtfully. “ It’s better to be happy and think of nice things instead of being miserable and worrying over nasty things.

Ostriches may stick their heads in the sand, but everyone laughs at their huge, feathered bodies just the same.

The ostrich-approach of burying your head in the sand, when confronting your areas of weakness, becomes a self-set trigger for failure.

When an ostrich buries its head in the sand as danger approaches, it very likely takes the happiest course. It hides the danger, and then calmly says there is no danger; and if it feels perfectly sure there is none, why should it raise its head to see?

Einstein’s Stubbornness Contributes to Failure   Ironically, Einstein’s rejection of quantum mechanics may have been a factor which contributed to his failure to develop a unified theory. Einstein’s refusal to accept quantum mechanics and the probabilities they present caused him to turn his back on more recent developments in physics. It also served to alienate him from the rest of the physics community. Yet the harder Einstein worked on his unified theory, and with each successive failure, he found himself more isolated than before. Einstein was aware of this increasing ostracism, but was unwilling to change. Late in his life he would comment, “I must seem like an ostrich who forever buries its head in the relativistic sand in order not to face the evil quanta.”   Einstein’s

The bottom line is we must not allow our fears to prevent us from moving forward and making those hard, frightening decisions. If we sit passively by and do nothing, like an ostrich with our heads in the sand, life will simply make our choices for us. Not making a decision is a decision in itself. We must never let fear hold us back from becoming the best versions of ourselves. When it comes to the decision to confront our fears or run from them, we must follow the advice from the title of Joyce Meyer’s best-selling book, Do It Afraid. T

Western leaders simply ignore the grim on-the-ground realities of multiculturalism: whether it is mass-grooming gangs in the UK, fire in the streets of Paris, or out-of-control crime in American cities, the political class still bury their ostrich-heads in the sand and pretend that there is no qualitative difference between peoples. Won’t someone think of the curry houses.

Do You Like Animals? is a wild animal menagerie of fun as children view pictures and read stories about elephants, lions, leopards, rhinos, hippos, zebras, giraffes, camels, kangaroos, penguins, and much more. The book helps children meet the animals up close and learn fun facts about how they live in the wild. The author/illustrator viewed the animals in the jungles, bush, and deserts of Africa, Australia, and South America before writing about them and painting them in forms that would be enjoyable and educational for children. For example, children will learn why elephants have trunks, why giraffes and leopards have spots, whether zebras’ stripes are black-on-white or white-on-black, how long hippos can hold their breath, the amazing characteristics of howler monkeys’ tails, why some kangaroos have a pouch, whether ostriches really bury their heads in the sand, the types of camels that have either one or two humps… Through stories that rhyme and pictures painted with punch this book is a must for children who like to have fun while they learn!

To keep an ostrich from putting its head in the sand, it would make sense to get rid of the sand. Yet in our culture today, so many of us seem to be in the import business.

It's when you bury your head in the sand that you leave your brain exposed.

When there is danger on your doorstep, you want to act almost like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.

Sometimes she thought of David as an ostrich, burying his head in the sand and forcing himself to believe that all would be well. It was one of the few things about him that she found frustrating. It wasn’t so much optimism as an inability to face reality and a tendency to look for the easy way out.

If some immortal strangers walked our land And heard of death, how could they understand That we--doomed creatures--draw our meted breath Light-heartedly--all unconcerned with death. So in these years between the wars did men From happier continents look on us when They brought us sympathy, and saw us stand Like the proverbial ostrich--head in sand-- While youth passed resolutions not to fight, And statesmen muttered everything was right-- Germany, a kindly, much ill-treated nation-- Russia was working out her own salvation Within her borders.  As for Spain, ah, Spain Would buy from England when peace came again! I listened and believed--believed through sheer Terror.  I could not look whither my fear Pointed--that agony that I had known. I closed my eyes, and was not alone.

Continuing the shift from industrial/goods to information and services. See graphs below that show the shift from manufacturing

But life goes on without the smallest regard for individual preoccupations. You may take up what attitude you like towards it or, with the majority, you may take up no attitude towards it but immerse yourself in the stupendous importance of your own affairs and disclaim any connection with life. It doesn't matter tuppence to life. The ostrich, on much the same principle, buries its head in the sand; and just as forces outside the sand ultimately get the ostrich, so life, all the time, is massively getting you. You have to go along with it.

To Rocky, touch was more important than sight. He grabbed everything and he wouldn’t let go! To make him turn loose our shirt buttons, or worse, our hair, we had to carry a stone or a nut in our pockets. Sometimes we could persuade him to let go of what he was clutching and take one of these, instead. But the cutest thing our Rocky Star did was to cover his eyes with his hand-like paws when he was frightened. In this respect, he was like an ostrich that buries its head in the sand. Rocky just didn’t like to look trouble in the face, even though he loved to create it.

You can't hide your head in the sand like an ostrich.

That is the hidden cost of ostrich behavior: Whether your head is in the sand or just lying prone along the ground, you’re in no position to defend yourself. You cannot fix a problem that you refuse to acknowledge. And if the problem isn’t there—how can you be held responsible for it?

Now that would be a good way to face Armageddon, fighting it every step of the way, or should you choose to be an Ostrich, well you can go out with your head buried in the sand.

grew a whole bunch of blisters of their own. I wondered what you called a whole bunch of blisters. I was sorry about lots of things. Most of all I was sorry that I hadn’t noticed what had been happening to Ross, that I hadn’t known. But that was a lie. Of course we’d known. We caused some of it. But ignored it—buried our heads in the sand. I wished so hard that he’d talked to me. Why hadn’t he talked to me? I could have helped—surely I could have done something? But then he might not have wanted to talk to the person who stole his girlfriend. I made it to Kirkcudbright just before six. The road I was on took me right through the center. There was a lot of traffic, people milling about the few scattered shops. I kept my head down and didn’t take much notice of anything except the road signs pointing my way. I think I drew a few stares but pretended not to care. It was even smaller than Dumfries, but also had a bridge over a river on the far side of the town center. There were yachts and fishing boats moored in a tiny marina. I hurried along, wincing a little at my blisters. Out the other side and back on the country roads I felt safer again. I was tempted to take a break, sit on the wide grass verge and catch my breath. But I was worried that if I sat down I might not be able to get up again. I refused to give in. I was going to do what we’d planned to do all along. My rucksack was rubbing my

Some left-wing commentators have criticized recent populist movements for their nostalgic appeals to a mythic bygone age. From Brexit to Donald Trump’s attempts to ‘Make America Great Again’, nostalgia persuades, deludes and charms people into making electoral decisions. Even the EU chief negotiator, Michel Barnier, blamed Brexit on Britain’s ‘nostalgia for the past’.31 For many, it is a fundamentally (small-c) conservative emotion, one held by people unwilling to engage with modern life – the proverbial ostriches with their heads in the sand.

This experience must make us realize that “business as usual” when dealing with China and other nondemocratic economies is the most dangerous solution of all. “Ostrich politics”—sticking one’s head in the sand—won’t help. Neither will going off on one’s own. The U.S. Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), for example, might be the largest law ever passed that secures national investments while addressing climate change, but so far it’s also a failed attempt to unite the West. In securing domestic expenditure, the Inflation Reduction Act impacts not only current and future U.S. investments in China, but also those of democratic partner countries like France or Germany.