Antonio Porchia Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs.
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The fairest thing in nature, a flower, still has its roots in earth and manure.
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What Alexander Graham Bell thought up occupied less space than a flower vase. Now it's so small that I have to search all my pockets to discover I've received a spam text.
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I have had enough of the sexist treatment of Sarah Palin... I call upon the McCain campaign to stop treating Sarah Palin like she is a delicate flower who will wilt at any moment.
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Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
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That's the way I do things when I want to celebrate, I always plant a tree. And so I got an indigenous tree, called Nandi flame, it has this beautiful red flowers. When it is in flower it is like it is in flame.
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I think the fans are going to expect a lot from me, as they should.
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I want you to like me, but I don't care if you don't.
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The world is full of people who never quite get into the first team and who just miss the prizes at the flower show.
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The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
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The Victorian language of flowers began with the publication of 'Le Language des Fleurs,' written by Charlotte de Latour and printed in Paris in 1819. To create the book - which was a list of flowers and their meanings - de Latour gathered references to flower symbolism throughout poetry, ancient mythology, and even medicine.
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Because I do not hope to knowThe infirm glory of the positive hourBecause I do not thinkBecause I know I shall not knowThe one veritable transitory powerBecause I cannot drinkThere, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
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Catch then, O! catch the transient hour, Improve each moment as it flies; Life's a short Summer - man a flower, He dies - alas! how soon he dies!
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A foot more light, a step more true,Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew.
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Awakening hope has named the nameOf love, or blown its spark to flame.Restlessness, but as the winds rangeFrom leaf to leaf, from flower to flower;Changefulness, but as rainbows change,From colour'd sky to sunlit hour.Ay, well indeed may minstrel sing,-What have the heart and year like spring?
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Can you look at a flower without thinking?
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The flower of olden sanctities.
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Life after all is made up of eating and sleeping, of meeting and saying good-by to friends, of reunions and farewell parties, of tears and laughter, of having a haircut once in two weeks, of watering a potted flower and watching one’s neighbor fall off his roof.
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At the end of my career, am I going to say I did well, but I didn't give it my all? I'd be very, very angry with myself if I didn't give 100 percent. If I gave my all and I got to whatever point in the world, I could look back and at least I say I did the best I could.
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I'm not an upfront person. Being upfront is not my forte. I'm quite happy to stay in the back there with the drums, where I belong.
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Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer-he bides his time, waits for the perfect wave on which to ride in. Delay is instinctive with him. He waits for the surge (of emotion? of strength? of courage?) that will carry him along.
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In my life I find that memories of the spirit linger and sweeten long after memories of the brain have faded.
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Love, when it fits inside a flower, is infinite.
