Flower Quotes
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Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
Can make you live your self in eyes of men.
William Shakespeare
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Death is the dropping of the flower, that the fruit may swell.
Henry Ward Beecher
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Death was not. I lived in a simple drowse:Hands and hair moved through a dream of wakening blossoms.Rain sweetened the cave and the dove still called;The flowers leaned on themselves, the flowers in hollows;And love, love sang toward.
Theodore Roethke
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It is a rose planted in your heart, and as it's thorns tear you, so does it thrive and flower
Sarah Monette
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I don't know why I've always been uncomfortable being too feminine. If a dress has too many flowers on it, if I'm giggling too much, I'm like ugh, put some combat boots on. I love masculine women. I think it's because I'm like a fake lesbian, I don't know.
Moon Bloodgood
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I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.
Pablo Neruda
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I've always loved flowers, as a little girl I'd collect flower objects and little flower books. Now I love flowers on my night table and on my desk.
Aerin Lauder
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Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.
Vincent Van Gogh
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If you're not religious, like me, how do you explain the transformational power that certain places have? They bring an incredible degree of attention to where you are and the passage of time. You're looking at every flower twitching, wondering if it's just the breeze or some magical pulse.
Geoff Dyer
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I cast my heart into my rhymes,
That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
William Butler Yeats
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You're always begging things to love you," he said, "as if you were a beggar for love. Even the flowers, you have to fawn on them--
D. H. Lawrence
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The fly runs toward the fire or lamp, thinking that it is a flower, and gets burnt up. Even so, the passionate man runs towards a false beautiful form, thinking that he can obtain real happiness, and gets burnt up in the fire of lust.
Bill Vaughan