“The sunshine was delightful, the foliage gently astir, more from the activity of birds than from the breeze. One gallant little bird, doubtless lovelorn, was singing his heart out at the top of a tall tree.”

“His dagger was out, poised at her throat. “Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life.”

“Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps the singing bird will come.”

“I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance”

“I would rather learn from one bird how to sing than to teach 10,000 stars how not to dance.”

“There's a story... a legend, about a bird that sings just once in its life. From the moment it leaves its nest, it searches for a thorn tree... and never rests until it's found one. And then it sings... more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. And singing, it impales itself on the longest, sharpest thorn. But, as it dies, it rises above its own agony, to outsing the lark and the nightingale. The thorn bird pays its life for just one song, but the whole world stills to listen, and God in his heaven smiles.”