Flower Quotes
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Here's flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
William Shakespeare
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The window-lights, myriads and myriads,Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.
Sara Teasdale
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Go, mark the matchless working of the power
That shuts within the seed the future flower;
Bids these in elegance of form excel.
In color these, and those delight the smell;
Sends nature forth, the daughter of the skies,
To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
William Cowper
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Why always "not yet"? Do flowers in spring say "not yet"?
Norman Douglas
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And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for each other,
And they are to branch boundlessly out of that lesson until it becomes omnific,
And until one and all shall delight us, and we them.
Walt Whitman
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The scent of a flower is a very close and intimate thing, she thought. It can seem to be a part of your body and blood.
Elizabeth Goudge
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Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.
Theodore Roethke
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Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
William Shakespeare
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What though youth gave love and roses, Age still leaves us friends and wine
Thomas More
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He domesticated and developed the native wild flowers. He had one hill-side solidly clad with that low-growing purple verbena which mats over the hills of New Mexico. It was like a great violet velvet mantle thrown down in the sun; all the shades that the dyers and weavers of Italy and France strove for through centuries, the violet that is full of rose colour and is yet not lavender; the blue that becomes almost pink and then retreats again into sea-dark purple—the true Episcopal colour and countless variations of it.
Willa Cather
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I don’t trust the answers or the people who give me the answers. I believe in dirt and bone and flowers and fresh pasta and salsa cruda and red wine. I don’t believe in white wine; I insist on color.
Charles Bowden
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Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled.
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
William Butler Yeats
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I see a flower. It gives me a sensation of the beautiful. I wish to paint it. And as soon as I wish to paint it I see the whole subject - flower - changed. It is now an art problem to resolve.
Georges Vantongerloo
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I am aware of the changes, but in no sense am I believer that we live in a post-racial society. That's a description of our inheritance and that is theirs, which is inescapable. It is doesn't matter if you are from New England or Mississippi. You're an American. It doesn't matter if you are white, black, brown, or Asian. It is part of American society. You'd have to be blind, deaf, or dumb not to know it. The emphasis on color or the fear of it, is all part of the same dark flower. I am trying to point to that and to bring it all the way back from Senegal.
Russell Banks
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I’ve been looking at oil paintings from oriental artists lately, and the one artist who’s inspired me right now is a man named Hokusai and I’ve had his book by my bed looking at how he interprets landscapes – mountains and water and flowers and birds.
Renee O'Connor
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O fairest flower! no sooner blown but blasted,Soft silken primrose fading timelessly.
John Milton
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The summer day is closed - the sun is set:
Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
The latest of whose train goes softly out
In the red west. The green blade of the ground
Has risen, and herds have cropped it; the young twig
Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun;
Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown
And withered; seeds have fallen upon the soil,
From bursting cells, and in their graves await
Their resurrection. Insects from the pools
Have filled the air awhile with humming wings,
That now are still for ever; painted moths
Have wandered the blue sky, and died again
William Cullen Bryant
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Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.
Ray Bradbury
