When you do what you want, not what you wish...' said the first raven. 'When you no longer seek your reflection in others' eyes...' said the second. 'When you see yourselves face to face...' said the third. 'Then,' the ravens intoned in unison, 'you will have found what you truly seek.
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting...
My love is like some raven at my window with a broken wing.
Cruel birds, ravens, but wise. And creatures should be loved for their wisdom if they cannot be loved for kindness.
Some battles are won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens.
Ravens are the birds I'll miss most when I die. If only the darkness into which we must look were composed of the black light of their limber intelligence. If only we did not have to die at all. Instead, become ravens.
On the road to wisdom, behave like a raven and observe everything carefully!
Entranced by the flight of a raven, I watch its shadow move effortlessly against golden, shimmering granite. I long to be that free, flying above the cluttered world of normalcy, where so many are half alive.
Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws.
The raven spread out its glossy wings and departed like hope.
Does wisdom perhaps appear on the earth as a raven which is inspired by the smell of carrion?
Why is a raven like a writing desk?
Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” “Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter
There is nothing else in magic but the wild thought of the bird as it casts itself into the void. There is no creature upon the earth with such potential for magic. Even the least of them may fly straight out of this world and come by chance to the Other Lands. Where does the wind come from that blows upon your face, that fans the pages of your book? Where the harum-scarum magic of small wild creatures meets the magic of Man, where the language of the wind and the rain and the trees can be understood, there we will find the Raven King.
Raven?' Yes?' What do you believe in?' I believe in - finding out!
From warriors ravens grew red And with their leader a host attacked.
Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas. - Censure acquits the raven, but pursues the dove.
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.
So lonely I make friends with the ravens that prey on lambs.
To fight the raven you may make alliance with the serpent until the battle is done.
Censure pardons the ravens but rebukes the doves. [The innocent are punished and the wicked escape.]
How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smiled!
It wasn't for nothing that the raven was just now croaking on my left hand.
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.
Ravens bring things to people. We're like that. It's our nature. We don't like it.
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