Flower Quotes
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When the flower opens, the bees will come.
Kabir
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Beauty is the flower of chastity.
Zeno of Elea
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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
T. S. Eliot
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The time was ripe for Flower. The vibe was right.
Jody Watley
Shalamar
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But these young scholars who invade our hills, Bold as the engineer who fells the wood, And travelling often in the cut he makes, Love not the flower they pluck, and know it not, And all their botany is Latin names.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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I draw because words are too unpredictable. I draw because words are too limited. If you speak and write in English, or Spanish, or Chinese, or any other language, then only a certain percentage of human beings will get your meaning. But when you draw a picture everybody can understand it. If I draw a cartoon of a flower, then every man, woman, and child in the world can look at it and say, "That's a flower.
Sherman Alexie
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If you bend a branch until it's horizontal, the sap will slow to a stopping point: a comma or colon, made of leaves grown into one another and over one another and hardened. Out of this pause comes a flower, which unfolds itself in spirals, as if the leaf form, unable to keep to its line, had begun to pivot.
Alice Oswald
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Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The peasant boy, who followed the coloured track of the rainbow, hoping to find the blue and charmed flower which springs where the arch touches earth, is wiser far than one who gives youth, genius, and time to literature.
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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The loveliest, sweetest flower that bloomed in paradise, and the first that died, has rarely blossomed since on mortal soil. It is so frail, so delicate, a thing, it is gone if it but look upon itself; and she who ventures to esteem it hers proves by that single thought she has it not.
Elizabeth Fry
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While yesteryear I tarriedIn a garden in the south,I met a youth who carriedA rose-bud in his mouth.I gave him chase and caught him,And would not set him free,But held him and besought himTo give the flower to me.He smiled, and broke a petalAnd laid it in my hand-It seared like molten metal,And here is yet the brand.
Enoch Powell
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The flower has opened, has been in the sun and is unafraid. I'm taking more chances; I'm bold and proud.
Paula Cole
