Edwin Hubbell Chapin Quotes
The golden age is not in the past, but in the future; not in the origin of human experience, but in its consummate flower; not opening in Eden, but out from Gethsemane.
Edwin Hubbell Chapin
Quotes to Explore
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.
Vanessa Diffenbaugh
I do not find it easy to send the flower of our youth, our finest young men, into battle.
Lyndon B. Johnson
Love, when it fits inside a flower, is infinite.
Antonio Porchia
Basically, I was a hippie and still am a flower child.
Donna Karan
I'm very romantic. I've emptied flower shops.
Bob Hoskins
Flower was a good metaphor for growth. The song is obviously about sexual responsibility, so that was the main metaphor. Also, it's like knowing who someone has been and remembering and appreciating that, but really appreciating what they are now even more.
Jody Watley
Shalamar
I'm a Capricorn, and they flower late.
Marianne Faithfull
Children learn many principles of natural law at a very early age. For example: they learn that when one child has picked up an apple or a flower, it is his, and that his associates must not take it from him against his will.
Lysander Spooner
Happiness is the natural flower of duty.
Phillips Brooks
When I was in my early and mid-teens, my style changed constantly. My clothing was inspired by 'Annie Hall' for a while, by a yoga teacher, a flower child, a pirate... name it.
Maya Hawke
We stand by the window embracing, and people look up from the street:it is time they knew!It is time the stone made an effort to flower,time unrest had a beating heart.It is time it were time.It is time.
Paul Celan
There grew pied wind-flowers and violets, Daisies, those pearl’d Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets; Faint oxlips; tender bluebells at whose birth The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets Its mother’s face with heaven-collected tears, When the low wind, its playmate’s voice, it hears.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
