Some quotes about ravens,
If men had wings and bore black feathers, few of them would be clever enough to be crows.
— Henry Ward Beecher
Does wisdom perhaps appear on the earth as a raven which is inspired by the smell of carrion?
—Friedrich Nietzsche
To the raven her own chick is white.
—Irish Proverb
And it came to pass at the end of forty days, that Noah opened the window of the ark which he had made: And he sent forth a raven, which went forth to and fro, until the waters were dried up from off the earth.
—Bible
Censure acquits the raven, but pursues the dove.
—Juvenal
That Raven on yon left-hand oak (Curse on his ill-betiding croak) Bodes me no good.
—John Gay
The Raven’s house is built with reeds,– Sing woe, and alas is me! And the Raven’s couch is spread with weeds, High on the hollow tree; And the Raven himself, telling his beads In penance for his past misdeeds, Upon the top I see.
—Thomas D’Arcy McGee
The raven once in snowy plumes was drest, White as the whitest dove’s unsullied breast, Fair as the guardian of the Capitol, Soft as the swan; a large and lovely fowl His tongue, his prating tongue had changed him quite To sooty blackness from the purest white.
—Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso)
And still the Raven, never flitting, Still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas Just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming Of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamplight o’er him streaming Throws his shadow on the floor, And my soul from out that shadow, That lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted–nevermore.
—Edgar Allan Poe
Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly shore,– Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore! Quoth the Raven “Nevermore!”
—Edgar Allan Poe
Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.
—William Shakespeare
The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements.
—William Shakespeare
Thou said’st–O, it comes o’er my memory As doth the raven o’er the infected house, Boding to all!–He had my handkerchief.
—William Shakespeare
Did ever raven sing so like a lark That gives sweet tidings of the sun’s uprise?
—William Shakespeare