Flowers Quotes
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On Valentine's Day, I wired flowers for my mother-in-law, but she found the fuse.
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This thing all things devours: Birds, beasts, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town, And beats high mountain down.
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And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.
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Flowers may beckon todwards us, but they speak todward heaven and God.
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The flowers anew, returning seasons bring; but beauty faded has no second spring.
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I sent my flowers across the hall to Mrs Nixon but her husband remembered what a Democrat I am and sent them back.
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I once had a garden filled with flowers that grew only on dark thoughts, but they needed constant attention and one day I decided I had better things to do.
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We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
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Is love the sweetness of flowers?
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I have spoken to plants myself, and if pressed for conclusions would have to say that those I threatened did better than those I - well, I wouldn't say prayed over, but pleaded with, cajoled. A rhododendron that hadn't bloomed for six years was flatly told it would be removed the following year if there were no flowers. Need I say that it has bloomed profusely ever since?
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People think I am dead because they haven’t seen me around for awhile. I’m not dead, I’m very much alive, as you can see. Although, there are two things I do before I get up every morning. I look around and if I don’t smell flowers or see candles flickering I go ahead and get up.
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The hats were nearly all as though made by somebody who had once heard about flowers but never seen one huge muffs of horror.
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Just as the bee takes the nectar and leaves without damaging the color or scent of the flowers, so should the sage act in a village.
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If flowers want to grow right out of the concrete sidewalk cracks I'm going to bend down to smell them.
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I do not know if Alice in Wonderland was an original story-I was, at least, no conscious imitator in writing it-but I do know that, since it came out, something like a dozen story-books have appeared, on identically the same pattern. The path I timidly explored believing myself to be 'the first that ever burst into that silent sea'-is now a beaten high-road: all the way-side flowers have long ago been trampled into the dust: and it would be courting disaster for me to attempt that style again.
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What could be said about me...a man to whom only his painting matters? And of course his garden and his flowers as well.
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I don't write poems. I don't give flowers to girls... yet.
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A change fell upon all things. Strange brilliant flowers, star-shaped, burst out upon the trees where no flowers had been before. The tints of the green carpet deepened; and when, one by one, the white daisies shrank away, there sprang up, in place of them, ten by ten of the ruby-red asphodel. And life arose in our paths; for the tall flamingo hitherto unseen, with all gay glowing birds, flaunted his scarlet plumage before us. The golden and silver fish haunted the river.
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Great pains were taken to hide chains with flowers...
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Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains of the moon. Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen And horror in the halls of stone Look at last on meadows green And trees and hills they long have known.
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Petunias are as hopelessly impractical as a chiffon ball dress.
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It is exceedingly deleterious to withdraw the sanction of religion from amusement. If we feel that it is all injurious we should strip the earth of its flowers and blot out its pleasant sunshine.
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The flowers were beaten down, their bent-over heads bejeweled with diamond droplets like earring on sad, rich widows.
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Where flowers degenerate man cannot live.
