The swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood.
Even if you enter the dirty water, stay neat like a white swan!
Those who awaken never rest in one place. Like swans, they rise and leave the lake. On the air they rise and fly an invisible course. Their food is knowledge. They live on emptiness. They have seen how to break free. Who can follow them?
Swans are majestic, beautiful looking creatures. With really ugly temperaments.
Swans in the winter air A white perfection have
There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.
But calm, white calm, was born into a swan.
Hear the music, the thunder of the wings. Love the wild swan.
In the story of Ugly Duckling, when did the Ugly Duckling stop feeling Ugly? When he realized that he was a Swan. Each of us has something Special, a swan of some sort, hidden inside somewhere. But until we recognize that it's there, what can we do but splash around, treading water? The Wise are Who They Are. They work with what they've got and do what they can do.
No amount of observations of white swans can allow the inference that all swans are white, but the observation of a single black swan is sufficient to refute that conclusion.
If swans weren't real myths'd make up.
Ugly ducklings don't turn into swans and glide off down the lake. Whether your sunglasses are on or off, you only see the world you make.
swans ... always look as though they'd just been reading their own fan-mail.
Silence is a strange thing to us who live: we desire it, we fear it, we worship it, we hate it. There is a divinity about cats, as long as they are silent: the silence of swans gives them an air of legend.
I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
If you're looking for monogamy, you'd better marry a swan.
This wild swan of a world is no hunter's game.
It is best to live with honor for just a day than with dishonor for many decades; better a short lived celestial swan than a century-lived crow.
Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan's egg.
The night folds her trembling hands over a weary world. Out of a pale blue rises the shining moon. My thoughts are flying to the stars like lonely swans.
O woman shapely as a swan.
The swan in the pool is singing, And up and down doth he steer, And, singing gently ever, Dips under the water clear.
The evening advanced. The shadows lengthened. The waters of the lake grew pitchy black. The gliding of the ghostly swans became rare and more rare.
I have seen old ships sail like swans asleep.
Millions of years ago, in my previous incarnations, I must have been related to swans... because I can still feel that affinity.
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