Quotes About Sunflowers

I don't know why, but I love sunflowers, and I just have this vivid memory of being in a field of sunflowers and how they felt like trees. They felt so tall.

At the very moment Mrs. Bentley was smiling down upon them with her yellow mask face, around a corner like an elfin band came an ice-cream wagon. It jingled out icy melodies, as crisp and rimmed as crystal wine-glasses tapped by an expert, summoning all. The children sat up, turning their heads, like sunflowers after the sun. (Season of Disbelief)

They slid whispering on meadows washed with wild sunflowers past abandoned way stations empty of all save transfer-punched confetti, to follow a forest stream into a summer country.

My path is made of poetry and music, characterized by rowdiness and sunflowers, and given life by everyone I have met along the way in this process of becoming human. (When I say everyone, I don't mean just us ornery two-legged beings.)

I imagine I sow cuttings of Anna-Louise's hair, like the fine stems of dried flowers, and watch sunflowers grow from the cuttings. I imagine I bury a pocket calculator with liquid crystals spelling her name, then watch the earth shoot forth lightning bolts. 'We should open up a seafood house together,' Anna-Louise says when she wants to torture me. Now that's love.

I think it is the removal of the sun's influence that has made us mad; the sun is blocked that used years ago to scrape the unreal shadow from our brain. So I always make a field, and I plant sunflowers, and their shadows move gently in the snow, and I pick up the pieces of dull stones that once were thoughts in precipitate flight in a friction of fire, like shooting stars in the sky.

B.C. The seed that met water spoke a little name. (Great sunflowers were lording the air that day; This was before Jesus, before Rome; that other air Was readying our hundreds of years to say things That rain has beat down on over broken stones And heaped behind us in many lands.) Quiet in the earth a drop of water came, And the little seed spoke: "Sequoia is my name.

We're all golden sunflowers inside.

But I need to remember that the grief is the settlers' as well. They too will never walk in a tallgrass prairie where sunflowers dance with goldfinches. Their children have also lost the chance to sing at the Maple Dance. They can't drink the water either.

Can settlers be trusted to follow Nanabozho, to walk so that "each step is a greeting to Mother Earth"? Grief and fear still sit in the shadows, behind the glimmer of hope. Together they try to hold my heart closed. But I need to remember that the grief is the settlers' as well. They too will never walk in a tallgrass prairie where sunflowers dance with goldfinches. Their children have also lost the chance to sing at the Maple Dance. They can't drink the water either.

We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.

we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're all blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment (Sunflower Sutra)

BohynÄ› dÄ›jin shlíží na zemi. JedinÄ› skrze ten nejžhavÄ›jÅ¡í ohe? je možno dosáhnout o?iÅ¡tÄ›ní. Vidí les umírajících slune?nic.

An acre of land between the shore and the hills... A garden I need never go beyond, Broken but neat, whose sunflowers every one Are fit to be the sign of the Rising Sun...

True friends are like bright sunflowers that never fade away, even over distance and time

I like it when I'm chirpy and happy, so I decided to do my hair green. I got my sunflowers too - I was like a living, walking garden.

My work is the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird - equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums...

My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—equal seekers of sweetness.

And whoever thinks these are worthy, breathy words I am writing down is kind. Writing is neither vibrant life nor docile artifact but a text that would put all its money on the hope of suggestion. Come with me into the field of sunflowers is a better line than anything you will find here, and the sunflowers themselves far more wonderful than any words about them.

the sunflowers themselves far more wonderful than any words about them.

Is a prayer a gift, or a petition, or does it matter? The sunflowers blaze, maybe that's their way. Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.

Come with me to visit the sunflowers, they are shy but want to be friends;

Writing is neither vibrant life nor docile artifact but a text that would put all its money on the hope of suggestion. Come with me into the field of sunflowers is a better line than anything you will find here, and the sunflowers themselves far more wonderful than any words about them.

A small patch of sunflowers came into view. Dozens of tall stalks topped with heavy golden flower heads swayed in they hot breeze. From a distance they looked like a group of ladies with their heads hung low, as if embarrassed that they'd arrived at a party wearing identical hats.