William Blake:

Little chicken, who set thee free
To wander here on Highway Three?
“Oh, sir, your question’s very odd;
He is called the Lamb of God.”

Little chicken, crushed and bleeding,
You did not see that auto speeding.
“Oh, sir, do not sit and brood:
God just had a Tygerish mood.”

George H. W. Bush: To face a kinder, gentler thousand points of headlights.

Julius Caesar: To come, to see, to conquer.

Raymond Chandler: She had beady inhuman eyes like strange black jewels and the kind of feathers a bird of paradise might envy. I knew that if they made her a free-range chicken she’d grab the first opportunity and never look back.

T.S. Eliot:

To leave the place she knew for another place
And to stay there for a while
And then to move onward to a third place.

John Paul Jones: It has not yet begun to cross!

Gregor Mendel: To get various strains of roads.

Oliver Stone: The question is not “Why did the chicken cross the road?” but is rather “Who was crossing the road at the same time whom we overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?”

Darth Vader: She was seduced by the dark side of the road.

Loudon Wainwright III:

Crossin’ the highway late last night,
She shoulda looked left, and she shoulda looked right.
She didn’t see the station wagon car;
The hen got squashed, and there you are…

Zeno of Elea: To prove it could never reach the other side.

@The Chicken – We humans probably have as many reasons as you chickens do for crossing the road, with every man doing what is right in his own eyes.

@Tony – I love many of those you posted, but I have admit that there were some I didn’t understand. As a French teacher, my personal favorite was Marcel Marceau.

Douglas Adams: Forty-two.

Arthur, King of the Britons: Was it an African chicken or a European chicken?

Howard Cosell: It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecedented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapiens pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurrence.

Bob Dylan: How many roads must one chicken cross?

Lao Tse: Those who cluck do not know; those who know do not cluck.

Stan Laurel: I’m sorry, Ollie, it escaped when I opened the run.

Foghorn Leghorn: Why, I’m no chicken! I’m a horse; I say, I’m a horse! Are you payin’ attention, kid?

Marcel Marceau:

Groucho Marx: Chicken? What’s all this talk about chicken? Why, I had an uncle who thought he was a chicken. My aunt almost divorced him, but we needed the eggs.

Michael Palin: Nobody expects the banished inky chicken!

Mr T: If you saw me coming, you’d cross the road too!

Bill W: We admitted that we were powerless over our poultry; that our chickens had become unmanageable.

I think I’ve shared this before but one of the dishes we look forward to every year is my mother’s macaroni pie. Layers of macaroni and slice cheese in a deep dish and baked until golden brown on top. Thankfully, my wife has learned how to make this dish so I anticipate being able to enjoy that for many years to come, Lord willing.

Rob adds: Here’s the cartoon James points to, in case it disappears from the site: