Quotes About Flowers

I love giving flowers. It is so deliciously unlasting and romantic.

larkspur and lupine, foxglove and Indian paintbrush.

When I lay down on that clean concrete bed, I found the ideal place for an afternoon nap. On many baking afternoons that followed, if I saw that the morgue was not otherwise occupied, I would lie on the slab and savor its soothing coolness; sometimes in my dreams I would find myself in a garden full of blooming flowers.

It is half dawn and half dark and in my drunken dreams I smell flowers and hear a skylark...

but now, along this high, rocky road, it was the leaves of cherry trees that predominated. From the bridge on, these lay like fallen red flowers. Some wet leaves, already decaying, had faded to a pink that was the color of the dawn. Why should decay take the color of the dawn?

p?mîntul este gr?dina înflorit? a universului ?i în aceast? minunat? gr?din? omul este cea mai frumoas? floare. Oamenii sînt florile p?mîntului.

Pushing through the stalks of Queen Anne's lace that grew almost to his waist, skirting the border of her mother's flower bed, he looked so beautiful to Kate that she caught her breath.

Hope is the reason the flowers bloom.

Plant the trees just for beauty. If flowers bloom or fruits ripen, enjoy it as a gift and appreciate nature as a universal giver.

Galicia. I contemplate the beautiful name as it unfolds, disclosing delicate, prancing, caparisoned horses and the lovely princesses riding them whose undulating red hair reaches to the carpet of flowers beneath the hooves. "You could always tell the Jews from Galicia by their red hair," my aunt says dreamily.

Art lies, to tell the truth. Flowers from different seasons bloom impossibly together. Trees are shifted around in the landscape to frame the composition. Rooms are created like stage sets, furnished with the artist's own possessions, where models are arranged in a speechless moment of drama.

cuando hueles su delicioso aroma y acaricias sus pétalos aterciopelados, en tu cerebro ocurren todo tipo de correlaciones.

Lawns, it seems to me, are against nature, barren and often threadbare - the enemy of a good garden. For the same trouble as mowing, you could have a year's vegetables: runner beans, cauliflowers and cabbages, mixed with pinks and peonies, shirley poppies and delphiniums; wouldn't that beautify the land and save us from the garden terrorism that prevails?

Forsythia is pure joy. There is not an ounce, not a glimmer of sadness or even knowledge in forsythia. Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.

Let us decide on the route that we wish to take to pass our life, and attempt to sow that route with flowers.

You could wonder for hours what flowers mean, but for me, they're life itself, in all its happy brilliance. We couldn't do with out flowers. Flowers help you forget life's tragedies.

As dawn broke over the mountains on the horizon, Iduna rode into the sleepy village. She spotted the sign for Tomally's Baked Goods almost immediately. It was just as her friend had described in her letters. The bakery was attached to a modest house that was clean and bright, with a window box filled with golden crocus. They were Anna's favorite flower. It had to be a sign.

AS IF TO COMPENSATE for the punitive winter, the city explodes with flowers overnight—making it, if only for a week or two, one of the most beautiful places on earth.

You know, maybe I was just born in the wrong time, but I love all things romantic. Puffy understands that. For my last birthday, he covered my hotel room floor with rose petals and had flowers and candles all over the room.

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.

By the time we're done, their guests have gathered outside to see the boy who must have flowers to give to the girl he loves.

The shelves had the melancholy emptiness and the false luxury of families where inferior meat is purchased, so as to be able to put flowers on the table.

Me thinks this heart should rest awhile... / Those flowers were formed to feel the breeze / Wave their light leaves in summer's glow... / And I lament because I know / That cold departure pictures mine.

You have seen flowers at morning satisfied with the dew, and those same sweet flowers at noon with their heads bowed in anguish before the mighty sun; think you these thirsty blossoms will now need nought but— dew ? No, they will cry for sunlight, and pine for the burning noon, tho' it scorches them, scathes them...