Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Chirping. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Chirping Quotes And Sayings by 93 Authors including Red Barber,Winston S. Churchill,James Patterson,C.s. Lewis,A.j. Orde for you to enjoy and share.
Whenever you have a tight situation and there's a close pitch, the umpire gets a squawk no matter how he calls it.
When eagles are silent, parrots begin to chatter.
Birds coming home to roost.
They were making a riotous noise, but it was much more like music - rather advanced music which you don't quite take in at the first hearing - than birds' songs ever are in our world.
Pre-high tech, objects thunked and crashed and clopped, amid a thunder of drums, a tumult of trumpets. Today things beep and cheep and whistle. We have come from the roar of the lion to the chirp of the tree frog, ceaselessly bleating our identities while the frog-eating bats hover above us.
A peep, peep, peep, another peep, and that's it.Peep-- Barry Davies
The sound of our lack of conversation amplified by the echo of our footsteps on the stone around us.
The crack of the bat, the sound of baseballs thumping into gloves, the infield chatter are like birdsong to the baseball starved.
screaming as they squeal down a Slip'n Slide
The call of the yellow-billed cuckoo of North America is often mistaken for a bloodhound drinking a bowl of milk. He goes coulp coulp coulp.
Rooks were cawing somewhere, and bells were ringing, and from the oxpens the steady beat of a gas engine announced the ascent of the evening Royal Mail zeppelin for London.
Caw! Caw, Hartley, caw!"
Chase narrowed his eyes again.
"Sam?"
I nodded. Then crossed to the window again and called down to Sam. "You can quit squawking. He caught me.
Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.
four tumbling, squealing cubs,
A well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother, in this way. Now bend your neck, and say 'quack.'" The
This aim was frankly admitted in the Newspeak word duckspeak, meaning "to quack like a duck." Like various other words in the B vocabulary, duckspeak was ambivalent in meaning. Provided
The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
He turned on to the track and wondered why no birds were singing. The only sound he could hear was the buzz and rattle of a drill, which he assumed to be the farmer doing something to a fence. It was, in fact, a woodpecker whose presence would have thrilled him had he known what it was.
What bird are you calling?' I ask, finally, when I can't stand it any longer. The bird man stops whistling. He grins, so that I can see all his pebbly teeth. He holds out a hand to me over the broth-thin water. 'You.
A very friendly boom, like a pair of gleeful handclaps.
When the eagles are silent, the parrots begin to jabber.
Squee." 1 (verb): To emit an onomatopoetic girlish swooning sound out of pure fanboy adulation. 2 (noun): the sound itself.
The wood echoed to the hoarse ringing of other saws; somewhere, very far away, a nightingale was trying out its voice, and at longer intervals a blackbird whistled as if blowing dust out of a flute. Even the engine steam rose into the sky warbling like milk boiling up on a nursery alchohol stove.
My ding-a-ling, my ding-a-ling, won't you play with my ding-a-ling.Play-- Chuck Berry
It was a sound like someone trying not to make a sound.
A long, loud, and canorous peal of laughter.
And beeping, obviously sure that I was either too stupid or too deaf to hear the racket.
Creep, clobber, squawk. Repeat.
Cogg would suddenly stand stock still. "Listen," he would say. Some feeble quack would be heard from the willow beyond the pond. "That's an easy one to tell. The frog-pippit." Then he would add, As a safety measure, "As I believe they call it in these parts."
My trumpeting sounds like a goose farting in the fog.
No matter how long the birds shall keep making noise, they shall surely retire to bed with closed beaks!
The hedges are spruting like chicks from the eggs when they are newly hatched or as the vulgar says clacked.
Gay!' he chirped. 'Gay!' It was the way he said his own name.
What cricket? Grasshopper?
In mid-wood silence, thus, how sweet to be;
Where all the noises, that on peace intrude,
Come from the chittering cricket, bird, and bee,
Whose songs have charms to sweeten solitude.
It is like the keening sound the moon makes sometimes,/rising.
Echo, the death of a sound that had nowhere to go but to come back.
What's that sound I hear?
It's just my lifetime
It's whistling past my ear
Public holoCans yapping and barking the dog language of distraction. All stirred and boiled together to make a thick soup of noise and shadowy light. Rollo
There are sneaking,
creeping, crumpling
noises coming from
inside the walls.
Speech is often barren; but silence also does not necessarily brood over a full nest. Your still fowl, blinking at you without remark, may all the while be sitting on one addled egg; and when it takes to cackling will have nothing to announce but that addled delusion.
The kind of noise that made your skin crawl and made you press your hands to your ears and pray it went away.
misbegotten cockwaffle.
Quack, damn you!
Loud ringing noises, I've discovered, upset Mr.Peepers.
She listens to the delicate fluttering of sparrows' wings, tiny messengers. The sound reminds her of life - struggling, beating, rising, flying, and now dissolving into space.
Farting, don't think, just fart.
There was a bird whistle as Polly neared the hiding place. She identified this one as the sound of the Very Bad Bird Impersonator ...
Birding to Change the World,
Q: What sound or noise do you love? A: Puppies sighing.
The birds, on the other hand, were going crazy. They filled the air with chirps and trills and songs. It was probably sparrow for Holy shit, what's going on, we're all gonna die, but it sounded pretty.
I do not encourage early morning chirpiness, even in those whom I know and love. It is generally a sign of a sloppy mind, and is not to be encouraged.
In the kitchen, chickens had overflowed into the sink. They weren't making much noise, except for the occasional 'werk' a chicken makes when it's a bit uncertain about things, which is more or less all the time.
Never give up listening to the sounds of birds.
The rooks cawed, and blither birds sang; but nothing was so merry or so musical as my own rejoicing heart.
Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
The first time Calypso came to check on [Leo], it was to complain about the noise.
"Smoke and fire," she said. "Clanging on metal all day long. You're scaring away the birds!"
"Oh, no, not the birds!
Descendants of pigeons once fed by Keats, Byron, George Sand, Chopin and many other famous lovers are still being fed, and the sudden sound when they all rise together, frightened away, is like the sound of giant sails flapping.
What's a wingding? Why, a wingding is, uh ... it's just like a shindig but without all the hullabaloo.
We have found that bats adjust the timing of their sounds when they encounter clutter, and they seem to 'strobe' the world with sound.
I like the sound of 'claps of no sound..
A cicada whines,
his voice
Starting to drown through the rainy world,
No ripple of wind,
no sound but his song of black wings,
No song but the song of his black wings.
Such emptiness at the heart,
such emptiness at the heart of being,
You know the sound of two hands clapping; tell me, what is the sound of one hand?
Let the bird sing without deciphering the song.
But, as old Swedish legends say, Of all the birds upon that day, The swallow felt the deepest grief, And longed to give her Lord relief, And chirped when any near would come. Hugswala swala swal honom! Meaning, as they who tell it deem, Oh, cool, oh, cool and comfort Him!
When they laugh, it sounds like confetti.
I hear myself laughing, screeching, cackling. The world is red hot and pulsing. On fire [...] I stroll down the corridor and the flickering fluorescents celebrate my passing, humming in praise. I spin, bow and hum along. Bloody footprints trail; bloody fingers smear the walls.
What's that sound? Oh, nothing. Just my heart exploding into a million pieces.
The cicadas were singing a song.
It was a one-noted, one-worded; The words sounded like "please".
They were singing and singing and singing and the whole world was falling down.
May sun finches warble sweet melodies in his ear,
Again came that ringing crow, and Peter dropped in front of them. "Greeting, boys," he cried, and mechanically they saluted, and then again was silence.
He frowned.
"I am back," he said hotly, "why do you not cheer?
Don't you think it's a small mystery that birds can twitter so loudly that they can hear each other's song from several miles away? Those tiny bundles are like living flutes, playing non-stop on themselves.
But one sound always rose above the clamor of busy life and, no matter how much of a tintinnabulation, was never confused and, fora moment lifted everything into an ordered sphere: that of the bells.
There was a click. There was a noise like a partridge. There was a thud.
There was silence.
A sound of cornered-animal fear and hate and surrender and defiance ... like the last sound the treed and shot and falling animal makes as the dogs get him, when he finally doesn't care about anything but himself and his dying.
chanting. Neither any of the C.I.s, or this man here,
It's so Quite around here, I'm sure I heard a Bird Fart!
They say that hens do cackle loudest when there is nothing vital in the eggs they have laid.
loud laughter, phones ringing and the smell
Whatever clunks your cowbell,
Hercules used noise! Brass bells! He scared them away with the most horrible sound he could-" said Percy
"Percy ... Chiron's collection!
In the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House was taking its siesta. There was a lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders, a gentle cooing of pigeons in the tops of the elms. From
the nights would be orphaned
without the sound of crickets chirping.
Geep,' whuppled the parrot.
Roosters: The cry of the male chicken is the most barbaric yawp in all of nature.
He doesn't jingle my chimes.
Jet Noise, the Sound of Freedom.
One morning I was bicycling to class when a large flock of Canada geese passed overhead. I couldn't see them, or much of anything else, but I heard the jazzy honking.
There was a rustle of chirruping sparrows in the green lacquer leaves of the ivy, and the blue cloud-shadows chased themselves across the grass like swallows.
It is night,
And it is vanity, and age
Blackens the heart of Adam. Fear,
The yellow chirper, beaks its cage.
Some accidental frequency in the siren had lit a gene like a flare in their rib cages, freeing them - for what greater freedom could there be than to forget your home?
An age-old patter that seemed like chaos but was not ...
The scrape and snap of Keds on loose alley pebbles seems to catapult their voices high into the moist March air blue above the wires.
Bells are musics laughter.
A subterranean murmur. It may sound like one of the many separate voices that make up the sounds of a creek. Or it may come in code, oblique and sneaky, creeping in from around the corner.
Mphhh ... What did you say Tyler?' Anna-Louise mumbles on the bed above me.
I stand up, and a tame blue bird lands on my shoulder and tries to nibble my earlobe. I gently shake Anna-Louise fully awake. 'Anna-Louise, wake-up,' I say. 'Wake up
the world is alive.
Hither, thither, through the sky, turtle-doves and linnets, fly! Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay, hither, thither, haste away! One and all, come, help me quick! haste ye, haste ye--pick, pick, pick!
The hooting of the owl with its tender wing is more familiar to me than the crowing of the cock. I prefer the strings to the woodwinds. Intermission: that is the darkness. The light feels like a vague scratching; it is malaise rather than pain. I am glad to sink back into darkness.
The chicken thing let out a whispering cackle.