Pigs might fly, but they’re very unlikely birds. | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

Perfect as the wing of a bird may be, it will never enable the bird to fly if unsupported by the air. Facts are the air of science. Without them a man of science can never rise. Ivan Pavlov …

Source: Pigs might fly, but they’re very unlikely birds. | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

“Death wins nothing here, gnawing wings that amputate–– then spread, lift up, fly.” ― Aberjhani, Journey through the Power of the Rainbow

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“THE RAT STOPS GNAWING IN THE WOOD, THE DUNGEON WALLS WITHDRAW, THE WEIGHT IS LIFTED YOUR PULSE STEADIES AND THE SUN HAS FOUND YOUR HEART, THE DAY WAS NOT BAD, THE SEASON HAS NOT BEEN BAD, THERE IS SENSE AND EVEN PROMISE IN GOING ON.”

BERNARD DE VOTO

“A poet is a man who puts up a ladder to a star and climbs it while playing a violin.” ― Edmond de Goncourt

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VIOLIN.
Take up your violin and play to me
And let your music set my spirit free.
Cast off the chains of hard reality.
And wander in the realms of poesy
Take up your violin and play to me
Berceuse and serenade and rhapsody.
In music shall our souls united be,
And peace, at length, shall find, in melody!
Take up your violin and play to me!
And heal me of my grief with reverie.
Let me forget, In your sweet harmony,
All but the present, mirrored happily.
Take up your violin and play to me
In this rapt moment let me happily
Forget this world of pain and care! May we
Drift dreamily away on music’s seal
Take up your violin and play to me.
When I am gone, within your memory.
I shall return, and sing so tenderly.
A spirit song of love’s fidelity.
IVY MOORE.
VIOLIN. (1934, January 27). The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954)