...he was forty bushels beyond bamboozled.
The owls are gathering; find out why soon.
The wailing owl Screams solitary to the mournful moon.
Vincent Hanna: Who? Who? What are you, a fucking owl?
Bertie stared at his mother. She spoils things, he thought. All she ever does is spoil things. He had not started this conversation, and it was not his fault that they were now talking about Grey Owl. He sounded rather a nice man to Bertie. Any why s...
I'm a night owl, and luckily my profession supports that. The best ideas come to me in the dead of night.
My toes are going to come," -Mariann The Night Owl
God is an early bird; satan is a night owl. Everyone knows that.
Sarcasm is when you tell someone the truth by lying on purpose.
I think the shocking thing to discover is the owls are not stupid and very feral, very hard to train.
The Owl goes who, who, the Dove goes coo, coo, humans go you! You!
In the enemy's territory, be as silent as the owl's wings; in friend's territory, be as cheerful as the nightingale's songs.
At home, I love reaching out into that absolute silence, when you can hear the owl or the wind.
When the owl sings, the night is silent. (Quand le hibou chante, La nuit est silence)
I'm a bit of a night owl because that's when I feel the most creative and alive.
I often have deer on my property and there's a fox and owls. You're not going to see that in the city.
When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, To-whit! To-who!—a merry note, Wh...
Pooh hasn't much Brain, but he never comes to any harm. He does silly things and they turn out right. There's Owl. Owl hasn't exactly got Brain, but he Knows Things. He would know the Right Thing to Do when Surrounded by Water. There's Rabbit. He has...
...his lazy eye drifting around the room like a child looking for the bathroom.
The owl of Minerva begins its flight only with the coming of the dusk.
There are sores which slowly erode the mind in solitude like a kind of canker.
