Quotes About Flowers

Reading music is like listening to flowers. I don't understand the concept.

When the March rains fell over the plains and the ragged face of the escarpment, six million yellow flowers cracked open all at once. Red-and-white butterflies, the ones that looked like peppermint sticks, flashed in twists against the sparkling air. But

I think that's why they have so many religious freaks in the airports...they even keep the flowers behind the counter. 'Go, go my children...be fruitful and annoy.

Margaret quirked her lips, looking much like the imp their mother used to call her. "What flower would ye pick for Katherine Campbell?" Callum snorted. "I wouldna pick flowers." "Ye let her take a bite out of ye." Maggie looked up at him, then cut him off when he opened his mouth to speak. "Ye fancy her. What flower would ye pick for her?" "Tulips," he mumbled, ignoring her knowing smirk.

The feathery palms that lined the drainage canals, the acacia thorns and sycamores, all glistened with the sheen of new, pale-green leaves, and in Khaemwaset's gardens the vivid clusters of flowers had begun to bloom with an abandon that assaulted the eyes and filled the nostrils with delight.

Buying flowers is not just a way to bring home beauty. It's an expression of confidence that better days are coming. It's a defiant finger in the face of those naysayers who would have you believe your fortunes will never improve.

Hermosa compostura de esa varia inferior arquitectura, que entre sombras y lejos a esta celeste usurpas los reflejos, cuando con flores bellas el número compite a sus estrellas, siendo con resplandores humano cielo de caducas flores.

These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, Waking in the dawn of the morning, In the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, Sleeping in the cold night's arms.

Sounds of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain awaken'd flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass

And, day and night, aloof, from the high towers and terraces, the Earth and Ocean seem to sleep in one another's arms, and dream of waves, flowers, clouds, woods, rocks, and all that we read in their smiles, and call reality.

Look on yonder earth: The golden harvests spring; the unfailing sun Sheds light and life; the fruits, the flowers, the trees, Arise in due succession; all things speak Peace, harmony and love. The universe, In Nature's silent eloquence, declares That all fulfil the works of love and joy, - All but the outcast, Man.

Where have all the flowers gone?The girls have picked them every one.Oh, when will they ever learn?

The double doors were made of olive wood, and he carved into them cherubim, palm trees, and open flowers and overlaid the cherubim and palm trees with hammered gold.

The flowers have appeared in the countryside; the season of singing has come, and the cooing of turtledoves is heard in our land.

A voice says, “Cry out!” And I asked, “What should I cry out?” “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flowers of the field.

For, “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall,