Quotes About Flowers

The flowers' beauty drew her closer to them like a magnetic force. She felt compelled to walk a little faster.

When the State withers, humanity flowers.

Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity.

A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin.

She wants to be flowers, but you make her owls. You must not complain, then, if she goes hunting.

Where flowers bloom so does hope.

Violet will be a good color for hair at just about the same time that brunette becomes a good color for flowers.

And...I think that's what life is all about, actually, about children and flowers.

if a sheep eats bushes does it eat flowers too?a sheep eats whatever it findseven a flower with thorn?even a flower with thorns.then what's the good of thorns?

Lorsque au lever de l'aurore le zéphyr vivifiant comme le souffle de l'amour commença à frémir dans le feuillage, chargé du parfum le plus pur des fleurs, et que de la conque azurée du firmament une pluie de perles descendit sur la terre rafraîchie, Keïs, délivré du monstre hideux de la nuit, renferma dans son sein ses plaintes et ses soupirs.

Deep in their roots,' Roethke had said, 'all flowers keep the light.

The gardenia is an enigma, its petals dusted with the creamy white purity of innocence, but its aroma is wildly seductive. How appropriate; for in the language of flowers, the gift of gardenias conveys the message of secret love. —DB

They passed a crystal vase of luscious yellow roses, which burst from tight salmon buds into golden, creamy yellow blossoms tinged with delicate strokes of subtle peach.

The Cloudy Vase Past time, I threw the flowers out, washed out the cloudy vase. How easily the old clearness leapt, like a practiced tiger, back inside it.

The day is early with birds beginning and the wren in a cloud piping like the child in the poem, drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe. And the place grows bean flower, pea-green lush of grass, swarm of insects dizzily hitting the high spots; dunny rosette creeping covering shawl ream in a knitted cosy of roses; ah the tipsy wee small hours of insects that jive upon the crippled grass blades and the face of the first flower alive.

You stand now between anarchy and law. The Police have done their duty. Let the jury have the same courage so that the police can indeed rest in peace. The flowers of spring shall bloom upon their graves moistened by the tears of a great city. Outraged and violated law shall be redeemed and in their martyrdom anarchy shall be buried forever.

wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers.

Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violets dandelions And the big bullying daisies through the field wonderful with eyes a little sorry Another comes also picking flowers

if i love You (thickness means worlds inhabited by roamingly stern bright faeries if you love me) distance is mind carefully luminous with innumerable gnomes Of complete dream if we love each (shyly) other, what clouds do or Silently Flowers resembles beauty less than our breathing

who knows if the moon's a balloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky--filled with pretty people? ( and if you and I should get into it,if they should take me and take you into their balloon, why then we'd go up higher with all the pretty people than houses and steeples and clouds: go sailing away and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,where always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves

Always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves.

in a middle of a room stands a suicide sniffing a Paper rose smiling to a self somewhere it is Spring and sometimes people are in real:imagine somewhere real flowers,but I can't imagine real flowers for if I could,they would somehow not Be real (so he smiles smiling)but I will not everywhere be real to you in a moment The is blond with small hands & everything is easier than I had guessed everything would be;even remembering the way who looked at whom first,anyhow dancing

suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.

wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry -the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelid's flutter which says we are for each other: then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis