“How's the Angel of Death supposed to do his job with clipped wings?”
“Many of God's angels do not have wings...”
“For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!”
“Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders round as ravens claws.”
“Living unloved is like clipping a bird's wings and removing its ability to fly.”
“I dream of flight, not to be as the angels are, but to rise above the smallness of it all. The smallnesss that I am. Against the daily death the iconography of wings.”