Quotes About Flowers

The dried yellow petals of St. John's wort, which Old Marie called 'chase-devil' for the way it could drive the megrims away. Gaudy calendula, bright as the sun. Sweet-smelling lemon balm, guaranteed to lift the spirits with its aroma alone.

Dortchen ducked through a gap in the trees, following a winding path to a small grove of old linden trees, their branches hanging with heavy creamy-white flowers. A hedge of briar roses, with delicate pink-white flowers blooming among the thorns, shielded them from the eyes of anyone walking past. The garden was alive with birdsong. A blackbird looked at her with a cheeky eye, then hopped away to search for worms. The scent of the linden blossoms was intoxicating.

A too closely watched flower/blossoms the wrong color./Excess attention to the jonquil/turns it gentian. Flowers/need it tranquil to get/their hues right. Some/only open at midnight.

dark-skinned Algerian troops marching across the city from one railway station to another. Their officers rode mules and wore bright red cloaks. As they passed, women gave them flowers and fruit, and café proprietors brought them cold drinks. When

Oh, what thoughts man might have had about the fact that God is in all creatures, and so might have reflected on the power and the wisdom of God in even the smallest flowers!

The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The light, creation's mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power.

The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks, held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

Answered prayers cover the field of providential history as flowers cover western prairies.

I'm a hopeless romantic, and very much the person in a relationship to go: If things are going well, I'll buy the flowers, remember the dates of things, plan fun nights out.

No one flower can ever symbolize this nation. America is a bouquet.

The other schools get along with this as a performance art, as a method of making a living, as a colorful decoration, or as a means of forcing flowers to bloom. Yet, can it be the True Way if it has been made into a saleable item?

Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

Daffodils,That come before the swallow dares, and takeThe winds of March with beauty.

Here's flowers for you:Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram,The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun,And with him rises weeping: these are flowersOf middle summer, and I think they are givenTo men of middle age.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance… and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

When daisies pied and violets blue,And lady-smocks all silver-white,And cuckoo-buds of yellow hueDo paint the meadows with delight,The cuckoo then, on every tree,Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,Unpleasing to a married ear!

I must go seek some dew drops here,And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,Where oxlips and the nodding violet growsQuite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine:There sleeps Titania some time of the night,Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.

The Dream Of Now" When you wake to the dream of now from night and its other dream, you carry day out of the dark like a flame. When spring comes north and flowers unfold from earth and its even sleep, you lift summer on with your breath lest it be lost ever so deep. Your life you live by the light you find and follow it on as well as you can, carrying through darkness wherever you go your one little fire that will start again.

I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o'er vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils.

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

At a distance enjoy the fragrance of flowers.

Paradise - I see flowers from the cottage where I lie.

Y aquel rumor del agua suspendido en la noche se cuaja por el frío de las estrellas en azucenas de cristal esperando a que las pongamos en el jarrón de nuestra alma.