Quotes About Flowers

It is possible to be indifferent to flowers—possible but not very likely. Psychiatrists regard a patient's indifference to flowers as a symptom of clinical depression. It seems that by the time the singular beauty of a flower in bloom can no longer pierce the veil of black or obsessive thoughts in a person's mind, that mind's connection to the sensual world has grown dangerously frayed.

For many flowers the great love of their lives now is humankind.

Our brains developed under the pressure of natural selection to make us good foragers, which is how humans have spent 99 percent of their time on Earth. The presence of flowers, as even I understood as a boy ,is a reliable predictor of future food. People who were drawn to flowers , and who further could distinguish among them and remember where in the landscape they'd seen them, would be much more successful foragers than people who were blind to their significance.

I cannot live without flowers everywhere. I grew up having a big garden, the size of a city block, in Rombas.

I think gardens are fantastic, and I'd love to draw and design and stuff like that. I love just planting flowers during the summer. There's something very humble about it, and natural and beautiful.

I love getting my nails done. My mom's best friend is a manicurist. When I was little, she'd do little paintings on my nails, like flowers.

Pain is not love. Love flowers; love gives without taking; love is serene and calm.

And love became the world's origin and the world's ruler, yet littered its path is with flowers and blood, flowers and blood.

Your real being only flowers with unconditional love. Ambition is against love. Anything that is against love is against you and your real life.

Is love the sweetness of flowers?

At the highest level of awareness, the greatest gift given and received when you give someone flowers, is the joy of living a life based on love.

To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.

That is the most extraordinary fact about Britain. It wants to be a garden. Flowers bloom in the unlikeliest places - on railway sidings and waste grounds where there is nothing beneath them but rubble and grit.

was interested to see that two bouquets had been laid on the lid, so someone must miss her. A couple of other mourners, lacking flowers, had left empty crisp packets, bless them, while someone else had placed an empty can of Carlsberg lager on the grave of a man named Duckett

All right, I'll take a chance. I will fall in love with you. If i'm a fool you can have the night, you can have the morning too. Can you cook and sew. make flowers grow. Do you understand my pain? Are you willing to risk it all or is your love in vain?

Can you cook and sew, make flowers grow, do you understand my pain? Are you willing to risk it all or is your love in vain?

Then you notice the cherry blossoms, and you see that nature is unaffected by all this. Poplar trees, the red butterflies, the fragile beauty of flowers, the sun—you see how nature is indifferent to it all.

would not, I imagine, suggest that it is the task of botanists to devise more flowers? Or that astronomers should labour to rearrange the stars? Magicians, Mr Segundus, study magic which was done long ago. Why should any one expect more?" An elderly gentleman with faint blue eyes and

Phillipa blew out her breath. Running a finger along the soft flower petals, she unfolded the note. For Phillipa, she read to herself, I hope adding yellow daisies isn't too forward. I asked Lady Fennington for their meaning, and she said white means "purity," while yellow means "slighted." I'm taking them to mean "frustrated." Because I am frustrated that you are still pure. Bennett. She snorted.

Tiny white flowers sprinkled the upper part of the gown like glimpses of stars at dusk, while the gathered waist and skirt darkened into solid twilight.

A little thing, like children putting flowers in my hair, can fill up the widening cracks in my self-assurance like soothing lanolin.

Something about the frank, guileless blue eyes, the beautiful young bodies, the brief scent of the dying flowers smote me like the clean quick cut of a knife. And the blood of love welled up in my heart with a slow pain.

The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals; They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat, And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me. The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea, And comes from a country far away as health. --from Tulips, written 18 March 1961

I imbue this place with my essence, every stone and every drop. My visit will do wonders for the flowers. Aly propped her chin on her hand. So does manure, she observed.