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I don't understand why people would want to get rid of pigeons. They don't bother no one.
I live in New York, and the only live animals you see are cockroaches, rats and pigeons, which I admire immensely. When I see an animal that thrives in the garbage, I feel relief; in our urban environment, other animals are dying out.
I don't mind being a symbol but I don't want to become a monument. There are monuments all over the Parliament Buildings and I've seen what the pigeons do to them.
It'll certainly give the pigeons something to do.
I get really nervous if pigeons are flying around before shows. I can't stand them after one once flew in through my bathroom window and went for me while I was having a wee. That was enough. I think pigeons target me.
Pigeons are gentle and smart and have complex social relationships. Their hearing and vision are both excellent.
But charity is a very complicated thing. It's important to find an area where you can really help and you can feel the results. Charity is not like feeding pigeons in the square. It is a process that requires professional management.
You can watch actors create their illusions, but if you don't see where they get the pigeons from, you don't really know how they're doing it.
The English eat all sorts of birds - pigeons, ducks, sparrows - but if you tell them you eat puffin, you might as well come from Mars.
I love the pigeons. I just raise them, period, and feed them. Pigeons go away, and they always come back. You get a touch of freedom, and then they are free to come back to you. I love the idea of pigeons.
Each week, I post a video about some 'Pigeon of Discontent' raised by a reader. Because, as much as we try to find the 'Bluebird of Happiness,' we're also plagued by those small but pesky 'Pigeons of Discontent.'
Pigeons are among the most maligned urban wildlife despite the fact that human beings brought them to our shores and turned them loose in our cities - not something that they chose.
I don't eat animals. I rescue strays and take injured pigeons to the wildlife rehab. I carry spiders and wasps outside in a cup covered with a 3x5 card. It would only follow that I'd take pause when contemplating the abrupt and apparently brutal ending of a tiny human being's life, or even a potential human being's life.
No one hit home runs the way Babe did. They were something special. They were like homing pigeons. The ball would leave the bat, pause briefly, suddenly gain its bearings, then take off for the stands.
I'd been doing projects outdoors for the public. I made pigeons eat geometry by putting bread out in rhomboids and triangles. I don't know if this activity made sense, but the work was available.
In my real life I live in the countryside, I walk a lot, I shoot clay pigeons, I don't get involved in the film business or anything, and then in my cinematic life, I think I am drawn to the dark side.
Whoever becomes the head of the National Theater finds himself in a position like that of Nelson's Column - pigeons dump on you because you're there.
I'd paint long strips of canvas and abandon them on the beach, or put bread out in geometric patterns for the pigeons downtown. I wanted people to find something nice and intriguing to puzzle over. Then I'd go back to see if the things were still there, or if anyone would notice.
I write a ridiculous number of drafts. The characters change and grow through the drafting, and my understanding of them deepens. Creating characters in a novel is like shooting at clay pigeons and missing, and then missing more productively as the narrative continues.
When I was a boy, I had a baseball team of my own. We played on a vacant lot between Ninetieth and Ninety-second streets. I had a little menagerie of my own, some pigeons, guinea pigs, and so on. On Saturday mornings, I had to take my music lesson. Then the members of my team used to come see my menagerie.
The beauty of where I'm from - this small little town called Wallburg, North Carolina - I didn't have a TV; I was out playing ball with my dad, shooting clay pigeons.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
John F. Kennedy
C. S. Lewis
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