his beak QUOTES

1 " Aisling tumbled out, his gold eyes going wild about the room to take in all of them. His beak clicked as he worked it in silence. Then, as the breaking of ice may bring a cascade of water from winter’s falls, the griffin’s voice—no longer that small shrill copy of Taryn’s, but his own true voice—poured plaintively from him. “Mom!”
Taryn jerked around, her mouth dropping open.
Aisling bounded toward her and she swept him up into a tight embrace. He clutched at her shoulders with his talons, burying his head under her chin, and cried, “Mom! Yoo…rrrrr…oh…kay!”
“Great gods,” Antilles heard himself say and he shot Tonka a startled glance. “He cannot be speaking?!”
The horseman merely smiled. “And why not?” he murmured, resettling himself on his padded bolster. “For has he not been a miracle from the very first?”
“You’re talking,” Taryn cried, true delight painting itself over the grief that had seemed to mask her since the dawning of this terrible day. She was radiant once more, burning with a joy and a healing light all its own as she hugged her griffin close. “Oh, my fierce prince! My big boy!”
“Yoo…rrrr…Ai-sing,” whispered the griffin. His raptor’s eyes flicked to Antilles and his naked wings fluttered. “Tilly. Yoo…rrrr…sun-shy?”
Taryn giggled, her face pressed to fur.
“Aye, lad,” Antilles said, tossing his broken horn. “My sun and my moon and all my starry skies. "

― R. Lee Smith , The Wizard in the Woods (Lords of Arcadia, #2)

2 " THE BIRD AND THE WATER
A bird which has not heard of fresh water
Dips his beak in salt-water year after year.
(Anwar-i-Suhaili) "

― Idries Shah

3 " The bird which has no knowledge of pure water, has his beak in salt water all year round. "

― Idries Shah , Sufi Thought and Action

4 " I was sitting in a bar one night, talking rather loudly about a person I hated - and a man with a beard sat down beside me, and he said amiably, " Why don't you have him killed?" " I've thought of it," I said. " Don't think I haven't." " Let me help you to think about it clearly," he said. His voice was deep. His beak was large. He wore a black mohair suit and a black string tie. His little red mouth was obscene. " You're looking at the situation through a red haze of hate," he said. " What you need are the calm, wise services of a murder counsellor, who can plan the job for you, and save you an unnecessary trip to the hot squat." " Where do I find one?" I said." You've found one, " he said." You're crazy," I said." That's right," he said. " I've been in and out mental institutions all my life. That makes my services all the more appealing. If I were to testify against you, your lawyer would have no trouble establishing that I was a well-known nut, and a convicted felon besides." " What was the felony?" I said." A little thing - practising medicine without a license," he said." Not murder then?" I said." No," he said, " but that doesn't mean I haven't murdered. As a matter of fact, I murdered almost everyone who had anything to do with convicting me of practising medicine without a license." He looked at the ceiling, did some arithmetic. " Twenty-two, twenty-three - maybe more," he said. " Maybe more. I've killed them over a period of years, and I haven't read the paper every single day. "