Quotes About Flowers

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green.

Flowers under glass," Luke said. "Tassels. I am beginning to fancy this house.

And there were birds singing, and--oh, I wish I could remember, and make you all see how lovely it was!--and flowers, and everything was so gentle and warm and light; it is going to be so beautiful

ephemeral and useless, flowers exemplify the gratuitousness of occasions that mean expenses and luxury; blooming in vases, doomed to a rapid death, flowers are ceremonial bonfires, incense and myrrh, libation, sacrifice.

It was a downy town, a drowsy town, a town of security and tradition, which still believed in Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, Memorial Day, and to which May Day was not an occasion for labor parades but for distributing small baskets of flowers.

We're in one of the bigger conference rooms and there must be about a hundred chairs arranged in rows, facing a podium and a large screen. I open my notebook, write "Brandon Communications" at the top of the page, and start doodling swirly flowers down the side. Beside me, Elly's dialing her telephone horoscope on her mobile phone. I take a sip of champagne, lean back, and prepare to relax. There's no point listening at press conferences.

I do not much care for nature, and believe that flowers belong in vases rather than loose and untidy on the ground.

Sweet May lies fresh before us, To life the young flowers leap, And through the Heaven's blue o'er us The rosy cloudlets sweep.

Not that fair fieldOf Enna, where Proserpin gathering flowersHerself a fairer flower by gloomy DisWas gathered, which cost Ceres all that painTo seek her through the world.

Southern California, which is shaped somewhat like a coffin, is a giant sanatorium with flowers where people come to be cured of life itself in whatever way .... This is the last stop before the sun gives up and sinks into the black, black ocean, and night - usually starless here - comes down.

Wherever men are noble, they love bright colour; and wherever they can live healthily, bright colour is given them—in sky, sea, flowers, and living creatures.

Somewhere along the line, it occurred to him that he hadn't spoken to Virgil Flowers. He'd probably taken the day off, and knowing Flowers, he'd done it in a boat. The thing about Flowers was, in Lucas's humble opinion, you could send him out for a loaf of bread and he'd find an illegal bread cartel smuggling in heroin-saturated wheat from Afghanistan. Either that, or he'd be fishing in a muskie tournament, on government time. You had to keep an eye on him.

Flowers said, "I got two bottles of water in the car." "Get them. And get your gun," Lucas said. "The gun? You think?" "No. I just like to see you wearing the fuckin' gun for a change," Lucas said. "C'mon, let's get moving.

Our soul is like a garden in which the weeds are ever ready to choke the good plants and flowers that have been sown in it. If the gardener who has charge of this garden neglects it, if he is not continually using the spade and the hoe, the flowers and plants will soon disappear.

All the flowers of the spring Meet to perfume our burying; These have but their growing prime, And man does flourish but his time. Survey our progress from our birth: We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.

In the end, defeat, and the cold, must come. First to the system, then the galaxy, then the universe, and the rest will be silence. Not to admit that is a fools vanity.' She paused. ' Yet one grows flowers because they are lovely - not because one wishes them to live forever.

Loveliest of any blossoming thing to her was that green stalk with its white bells. White was the most beautiful color she knew. Yet when she would say that to Amos he would remind her that the brown of the earth from which the flowers came was a good color too.

pink chiffon dress went down the aisle. Violet in the lilac gown followed. The bouquets she'd crafted for the bridesmaids were a mass of spring flowers: blue hydrangeas, soft purple roses, yellow carnations, pale pink peonies and the soft silvery-green foliage of dusty miller added a bit of shimmer. Each bouquet had a coordinating satin colored ribbon to match the attendant's

I haven't written poetry in a long time but I read it and I miss it. It is so hard to write. So hard to finish, so hard to find the exact word to make it shine. In honor of my youth I will write a poem to finish this essay. It is spring in the Ozark Mountains. The yellow flowers are blooming and the birds wake me at dawn and last night five planets lined up by the moon in the western sky. If that doesn't inspire me to poetry what will?

And her palace,' Simeon said dreamily. 'You can hardly imagine, Isidore. It's made entirely of pink marble, and it looks over the banks of a huge rain plain. Sometimes the plain fills with white flowers, thousands and thousands of them. If there's rain, the plain forms a great blue mirror to the sky.

The sky was a high, pale blue, like faded linen hung in the sun ... Under the alders were bluebells, dark blue, blue flowers hanging their little heads from the beauty of their blossoms.

I believe in plenty of optimism and white paint, comfortable chairs with lights beside them, open fires on the hearth and flowers wherever they "belong," mirrors and sunshine in all rooms.

Their color slowly faded from out of the flowers; but their scent lingered to honey the air he breathed.

Just after the death of the flowers, And before they are buried in snow, There comes a festival season, When nature is all aglow— Aglow with a mystical spendour That rivals the brightness of spring, Aglow with a beauty more tender Than aught which fair summer could bring....