Quotes About Blooming

Memory returned like spring, Laurel thought. Memory had the character of spring. In some cases, it was the old wood that did the blooming

The billions of flowers blooming around the globe are preachers with a single message: "Don't worry! God cares for our needs.

Your body is a flower that life let bloom.

All the year round there is spring, all through life is youth; there is always something which may flower.

your camellias are holding up

My heart must be young and fresh though, it feel like it blooming blood.

A spring night is a power that sweeps through the crowded sheaves of blooming tulips and pours into your heart like a river.

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Love is blooming on the riverbanks, in the alleys of Montmartre. Park benches exist for lovers exhausted by excessive kissing.

It's just that I don't believe in living a life in decline. Either one grows, one blooms, or one diminishes. I wasn't able to imagine any way after witnessing the white nights to continue to live while growing. And since I refuse to live and diminish, I wanted to die.

Spring was ravishing around town, bursting and budding and blooming. It was one of those nights when the air is blood-temperature and it's impossible to tell where you leave off and it begins.

They say you'll be blooming when you're in love; I agree, but what is important to bloom is taking care of yourself, too.

Spring time is the land awakening.

Well pleaseth me the sweet time of Easter. That maketh the leaf and the flower come out.

This rose is not so fragrant as a summer flower, but it has stood through hardships none of them could bear: the cold rain of winter has sufficed to nourish it, and its faint sun to warm it; the bleak winds have not blanched it, or broken its stem, and the keen frost has not blighted it... It is still fresh and blooming as a flower can be, with the cold snow even now on its petals.— Will you have it?

I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.

Without spring, life would be much less pinky!

Time is a blooming field: nature is ever teeming with life: and all is seed, and all is fruit.

Our battle-fields, safe in the keeping Of Nature's kind, fostering care, Are blooming, - our heroes are sleeping, - And peace broods perennial there.

This is what history is: all those centuries of bodies, moving over these canals, twisting and blooming into life in these houses, these streets; all that flesh hungering, coming together, separating, continuing, accumulating, relinquishing, aging and breaking down. Bodies as tulips bent to the demands of light, colored into blossom, spent.

And then something blossomed deep within and opened almost like the multitude petals of a rose, pushing back the tension in rippling waves as they bloomed until she surrendered to relaxation with a soft exclamation of surprise

Spring is the season of restoration of all living things.

It does not matter if you are a rose or a lotus or a marigold. What matters is that you are flowering.

At springtime all is born-again.