“Be like the bird that, passing on her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings.”

“Be a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings.”

“Pass not beneath, O Caravan, or pass not singing. Have you heardThat silence where the birds are dead yet something pipeth like a bird?”

“Let us be like a bird for a moment perched On a frail branch when he sings;Though he feels it bend, yet he sings his song,Knowing that he has wings.”

“In every message she spoke of birds, of flight, of the world away. Even back then, she flew against what was presented to her. I wanted to cling to her wings and soar, no matter how intimidated I was.”

“Keda,' she said to herself,' Keda, this is tragedy.' But as her words hung emptily in the morning air, she clenched her hands for she could feel no anguish and the bright bird that had filled her breast was still singing... was still singing.”