Seagulls Quotes

“Are you still doing that crap?" I ask.

"You can't even do it properly," Eileen says.

"Just a matter of practice," Simone says.

"Wow! Practicing how to poison yourself and make your breath reek like the fart of a seagull!" Eileen cries.”
― Randa Abdel-Fattah, Does My Head Look Big In This?

“A seagull flying beautifully is heaven; a seagull hunting an innocent fish is hell! Existence is heaven and hell, joy and horror!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Flight of my mind rises beneath the seagull’s wings …then ocean is my motherland I feel.”
― Munia Khan

“Freedom can be forgotten in the repressive countries. To remember freedom, it will be enough to watch a happy seagull flying in the sky!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“When you return, we'll take armfuls of books out to the unmown lawn and lie on a blanket with them spread about us. We will read to each other and watch the gulls wheeling above. If we are shat upon, you will teach me to swear in Norwegian.”
― Claire Fuller, Swimming Lessons

“The stares that had haunted and followed the terrifying killer everywhere he turned had been nothing but a boy's imitation of a mother's reproachful look.
No, Herman would never guess what had driven him out of town. We hadn't accused him of a man's murder.
We'd accused him of a seagull's.”
― Carsten Jensen, We, the Drowned

“The sea! The sea! How many years had it been since I’d stepped onto the shoreline, dipped my toes into the water, sunken head-first into the waves? I had dreamt of it often. This exact moment. Walking here, with the soft sensation of sand underfoot and the bright sun overhead, the chirping of seagulls and that endless expanse of coastline. Lost from the world. From time. From all of it.”
― Joshua Krook , Black Friday 2050: The powerful psychological thriller set in a terrifying high-tech future

“Now I am sitting in the Botanic Gardens. Though the puddles are frozen in the shade, you could sit out for ever so long in the sun without feeling cold. No one there but children with their nurses, and old men with pale, dreamy eyes thinking of nothing, perhaps wondering vaguely if they will hold on to see another spring. I am on a bench overlooking the Kelvin, and have been watching the seagulls. Whole flocks have come up inland from the Clyde. There are rooks too, very noisy and restless, deceived perhaps by the sunshine into thinking the winter is over.”
― Catherine Carswell, The Camomile

“Life recommenced. Dogs barked, cocks crew, smoke rose, men shouted, women clattered their milk pails. Soon figures moved upon the empty fields. Somewhere a plough was creaking. Garry turned turned his head towards the noise and searched the brown earth until he saw the team. Seagulls were crying after it, settling in the black furrow, rising again to wheel around the horses. As he watched, the sun reached the field. The wet new-turned furrow was touched to light as though a line of fire had run along it. The flanks of the horses gleamed. They tossed their manes, lifting their arched necks and bowing again to the pull: brown farm horses, white nosed, white-footed, stalwart and unhurrying as the earth they trampled or the man who held the share.”
― Nan Shepherd, The Weatherhouse