Feather Quotes

“From her thighs, she gives you life
And how you treat she who gives you life
Shows how much you value the life given to you by the Creator.
And from seed to dust
There is ONE soul above all others --
That you must always show patience, respect, and trust
And this woman is your mother.
And when your soul departs your body
And your deeds are weighed against the feather
There is only one soul who can save yours
And this woman is your mother.
And when the heart of the universe
Asks her hair and mind,
Whether you were gentle and kind to her
Her heart will be forced to remain silent
And her hair will speak freely as a separate entity,
Very much like the seaweed in the sea --
It will reveal all that it has heard and seen.

This woman whose heart has seen yours,
First before anybody else in the world,
And whose womb had opened the door
For your eyes to experience light and more --
Is your very own MOTHER.
So, no matter whether your mother has been cruel,
Manipulative, abusive, mentally sick, or simply childish
How you treat her is the ultimate test.
If she misguides you, forgive her and show her the right way
With simple wisdom, gentleness, and kindness.
And always remember,
That the queen in the Creator's kingdom,
Who sits on the throne of all existence,
Is exactly the same as in yours.
And her name is,
THE DIVINE MOTHER.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“You are where you need to be. Just take a deep breath.”
― Lana Parrilla

“Featherweight by Suzy Kassem


One evening,
I sat by the ocean and questioned the moon about my destiny.
I revealed to it that I was beginning to feel smaller compared to others,
Because the more secrets of the universe I would unlock,
The smaller in size I became.

I didn't understand why I wasn't feeling larger instead of smaller.
I thought that seeking Truth was what was required of us all –
To show us the way, not to make us feel lost,
Up against the odds,
In a devilish game partitioned by
An invisible wall.

Then the next morning,
A bird appeared at my window, just as the sun began
Spreading its yolk over the horizon.
It remained perched for a long time,
Gazing at me intently, to make sure I knew I wasn’t dreaming.
Then its words gently echoed throughout my mind,
Telling me:

'The world you are in –
Is the true hell.
The journey to Truth itself
Is what quickens the heart to become lighter.
The lighter the heart, the purer it is.
The purer the heart, the closer to light it becomes.
And the heavier the heart,
The more chained to this hell
It will remain.'

And just like that, it flew off towards the sun,
Leaving behind a tiny feather.
So I picked it up,
And fastened it to a toothpick,
To dip into ink
And write my name.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“Soft feathers cannot make a cruel bird kind”
― Munia Khan

“Tell me where the swans go in the winter
I need to know if the mute ones can sing.

Tell me why stars fall from the sky
I need to know if it is luck they bring.

Tell me why feathers land near you
I need to know if you've injured your wing.

Now, tell me where you end, my angel
For I no longer know where I begin.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“KINGDOM OF THE WOMB

From her thighs, she gives you life
And how you treat she who gives you life
Shows how much you value the life given to you by the Creator.
And from seed to dust
There is ONE soul above all others --
That you must always show patience, respect, and trust
And this woman is your mother.
And when your soul departs your body
And your deeds are weighed against the feather
There is only one soul who can save yours
And this woman is your mother.
And when the heart of the universe
Asks her hair and mind,
Whether you were gentle and kind to her
Her heart will be forced to remain silent
And her hair will speak freely as a separate entity,
Very much like the seaweed in the sea --
It will reveal all that it has heard and seen.

This woman whose heart has seen yours,
First before anybody else in the world,
And whose womb had opened the door
For your eyes to experience light and more --
Is your very own MOTHER.
So, no matter whether your mother has been cruel,
Manipulative, abusive, mentally sick, or simply childish
How you treat her is the ultimate test.
If she misguides you, forgive her and show her the right way
With simple wisdom, gentleness, and kindness.
And always remember,
That the queen in the Creator's kingdom,
Who sits on the throne of all existence,
Is exactly the same as in yours.
And her name is,
THE DIVINE MOTHER.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“A feather is a miraculous thing. So commonplace and every day, we barely even notice them poking out of our pillows, or caught on a gentle breeze, or bobbing along the surface of a lazy river, caught in the eddies and rushing vortexes as it’s swept downstream. But a feather is a feat of engineering. And this feather, the one that must have been slipped beneath my bedroom door, is a beautiful one to be sure.”
― Callie Hart, Riot House

“Anubis is associated with the mummification and protection of the dead for their journeys through Denver International Airport to the afterlife. He is usually portrayed as being half human and half jackal, and holding a metal detector in his hand ... Anubis is employed by the Department of Homeland Security to examine the hearts of all travellers to make sure they have not exceeded the weight limit for psychological baggage ... He is also shown frisking mummies and confiscating firearms and other contraband. It doesn't take much to tip the scales in favour of a dead body cavity search or an afterlifetime travel ban.”
― Stephen Moles, The Most Wretched Thing Imaginable or, Beneath the Burnt Umbrella

“Feathers—no matter what size or shape or color—are all the same, if you think about them. They’re soft. Delicate. But the secret thing about feathers is . . . they are very strong.”
― Julie Cantrell, The Feathered Bone

“The world you are in –
Is the true hell.
The journey to Truth itself
Is what quickens the heart to become lighter.
The lighter the heart, the purer it is.
The purer the heart, the closer to light it becomes.
And the heavier the heart,
The more chained to this hell
It will remain.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“Bird of Paradise, feather among leaves,
To the earthy soil I am bound and tied.
Anchored by claws of roots and weighty sheaves,
My spirit flies among the birds that glide.
My sprawled pinions verdant, tail feathers pied,
A crest of orange crowned is my disguise.
As winds breathe hope and new life, then subside,
Seeds are sown and grown right before my eyes.
My vision is centered, strong are my arms,
I feed the hungry and withstand their sting,
I greet the sunrise, and bathe in rainstorms.
Wildflowers fret and speak of blight all spring,
But Paradise shuns foreboding such plight.
Proud is my nature, I stand strongly bright.”
― Marie Helen Abramyan

“Socrates is flying. No, he is soaring. The wings behind him beat in a calming rhythm while the cool air rushes past. His wings are all that matter, snapping at the rushing wind like the sails of some great sea vessel, the feathery appendages all he is and all he will ever want to be.
His back muscles flex with the effort that takes him high above the ground. He feels the effort, of course, but sweeping into the sky does not require much of one. The sensation is pleasurable, even exhilarating. With flight there is freedom beyond description, an ecstasy bordering on sexual.
He has only one destination, and that is to soar higher, to no longer be a prisoner of the earth. Here destinations seem irrelevant, the world below small. Flying exceeds every pleasure he knows. In the immense forever of blue sky, all that matters is flight and his ability to climb higher.
Up and up and up...”
― Ken Goldman, Of A Feather

“Fancy feathers make peacocks, but you pluck them and see what's left.”
― Catherine Cookson, The Black Candle

“He is self-conscious because everyone knows he has wings but they've never seen him fly. Now & then there will be a feather in odd places or maybe a footprint to show he was there. All in all, he thinks it's nobody else's business what he does with his free time.”
― Brian Andreas, Still Mostly True: Collected Stories & Drawings

“I used to find my mother as bright as a flower,
a moon smiled, always
from the threshold of her eyelids, that
fluttered like a feather.”
― Geeta Tripathee

“Her pockets yielded only ordinary feathers, shells, and seedpods, so she hurried back to the shack and stood in front of her feather-wall, window-shopping. The most graceful were the tail feathers from a tundra swan.”
― Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing

“Birds of a feather flock together ...only in good weather!”
― Ankala Subbarao

“O, weary angels,
don’t look at me with those eyes.
If that is your state
then what of our cries?
What can I tell you of goodness
that you don’t already know?
What can I tell you of faith,
of hope and love
that you yourselves bestow?
O, angels,
don’t pluck another feather,
this isn’t the sky,
it’s just the weather.
Please, angels, try.
We are one all together.
Look up and listen,
I’ll say it once and then put down my pen:
We are sorry for our ignorance
and even though we are worldly,
it might happen again.
We are sorry for your weariness
and even though you aren’t worldly,
we are no more than human.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“You see, somewhere deep within the universe is a cosmic heart that pours knowledge to those with questions. And to communicate with it, you simply have to tap into your own heart. Yet there is a catch. You cannot be sleeping. You have to be wide awake. And your heart cannot be heavy. It must be as light as a feather. And your questions cannot carry any shades of darkness; they must be as childlike as a curious and receptive student of Truth. And the answers, can be interpreted in many different ways -- depending on how much truth you have in you.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“Situating oneself in a spot of bother is not the coolest idea neither is gulping down pain reliever for another’s headache a feather in your cap.”
― Vincent Okay Nwachukwu, Weighty 'n' Worthy African Proverbs - Volume 1

“Lodged in the stump and sticking straight up was a thin black feather about five or six inches long. To most it would have looked ordinary, maybe a crow's wing feather. But she knew it was extraordinary for it was the "eyebrow" of a great blue heron, the feather that bows gracefully above the eye, extending back beyond her elegant head. One of the most exquisite fragments of the coastal marsh, right here. She had never found one but knew instantly what it was, having squatted eye to eye with herons all her life.
A great blue heron is the color of gray mist reflecting in blue water. And like mist, she can fade into the backdrop, all of her disappearing except the concentric circles of her lock-and-load eyes. She is a patient, solitary hunter, standing alone as long as it takes to snatch her prey. Or, eyeing her catch, she will stride forward one slow step at a time, like a predacious bridesmaid. And yet, on rare occasions she hunts on the wing, darting and diving sharply, swordlike beak in the lead.”
― Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing

“Beneath the window, set between gravel walkways, a few woody lavenders, etiolated rosemary bushes, and ornamental thyme made up the aromatherapy garden that he had seen described in the brochure. Beyond this, however, running a long arc down the gentle slope of lawn, camellias in unrestrained bloom provided an alternative tonic. The lawn gave way to a flower garden, itself fringed by a wood, so that the incarcerated had at least the consolation of a pleasant enough outlook.
Gabe stood in front of the fireplace and examined the painting that hung above the mantelpiece. It was a still life. It showed two apples and a brown and white feather laid on a velvet cloth on a table placed by a window. Although the picture was not, Gabriel assumed, of the highest artistic value, and was cheap enough to reside at Greenglades, and though it could not be said to have a photographic reality, and though he suspected it of not being "good," he was drawn to look at it and could see the ripeness of the velvet, reckon the bursting crispness of the apples, and the feather had a certain quality that he had never before observed, just as the painted window offered something that he had failed to notice at all when looking through the real one: the texture, the tone, the way the light fell, the very glassness of the glass.”
― Monica Ali, In the Kitchen

“Danglars gehörte zu jenen Menschen, die mit einer Feder hinter dem Ohr und mit einem Tintenfass an Stelle des Herzens geboren werden.”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count Of Monte Cristo / Le Comte De Monte Cristo: English French Parallel Text Edition

“THE WEIGHT OF ONE FEATHER

Given.
Many fear Death
Because they already
Feel ridden with sin,
But no man
On this earth
Is filled with only
White light
Within.
Have more faith
In our Maker,
For our souls
And minds
Were created by
Him.
Just remember that,
When your deeds
Are measured
By the scale --
Your good deeds
Must outweigh
The bad,
And your heart must be
Lighter than the weight of
One feather
To win.


THE WEIGHT OF ONE FEATHER by Suzy Kassem”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“I jokingly asked if his friends teased him for being a feather thief, but his face clouded at the word thief.

“I try to refrain from certain words,” he said. “Thief is one of them. This is going to sound very strange, but I don’t feel like a thief.”
― Kirk Wallace Johnson, The Feather Thief

“He would not let himself be overawed by her consequence! He was also the son of noble parents, if not of a king. "Then-then they'll need more Dagons," he blurted out. "Let me go, please. Let me serve the king."
"It is not my decision to make."
"How can you stop me if I refuse to take vows as a monk when my novitiate is ended?" he demanded.
She raised an eyebrow. "You have already pledged yourself to enter the church, an oath spoken outside these gates."
"I had no choice!"
"You spoke the words. I did not speak them for you."
"Is a vow sworn under compulsion valid?"
"Did I or any other hold a sword to your throat? You swore the vow."
"But-"
"And," she said, lifting a hand for silence-a hand that bore two handsome rings, one plain burnished gold braid, the other a fine opal in a gold setting, "your father has pledged a handsome dowry to accompany you. We do not betroth ourselves lightly, neither to a partner in marriage-" He winced as she paused. Her gaze was keen and unrelenting. "-nor to the church. If a vow can be as easily broken as a feather can be snapped in two-" She lifted a quill made from an owl feather from her table, displaying it to him. "-then how can we any of us trust the other?" She set down her feather. "Our oaths are what makes us honorable people. What man or woman who has forsworn his noble lord or lady can ever be trusted again? You swore your promise to Our Lady and Lord. Do you mean to swear that oath and live outside the church for the rest of your days?"
Said thus, it all sounded so much more serious. No man or woman who made a vow and then broke it was worthy of honor.”
― Kate Elliott, Prince of Dogs

“Remain grounded and entrenched for your end will be the feather that gets tossed and turned at the mercy of the wind.”
― RJ Intindola – (Gandolfo) – 1992

“A bird with great feathers may have nothing else! Anyone who is deceived by dazzling feathers can find themselves in a pale world!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Hope is a thing with feather,  
but does it know how to fly?”
― L.M. Browning, Drive Through the Night

“Something inside me dies. I think it is called hope - a little feather drifting in the breeze, staying afloat and dancing until it drops to the ground, trampled under the feet of reality; or maybe it sees that it is fruitless to stick around and flies further on, out of reach and impossible to grasp.”
― Martha Kowalski, Books of Destinies Vol. 2