Quotes About Dandelion

The Piglet was sitting on the ground at the door of his house blowing happily at a dandelion, and wondering whether it would be this year, next year, sometime or never. He had just discovered that it would be never, and was trying to remember what it was, and hoping it wasn't anything nice, when Pooh came up.

The Piglet was sitting on the ground at the door of his house blowing happily at a dandelion, and wondering whether it would be this year, next year, sometime or never. He had just discovered that would be never, and was trying to remember what "it" was, and hoping it wasn't anything nice, when Pooh came up.

They picked the golden flowers. The flowers that flooded the world, dripped off lawns onto brick streets, tapped softly at crystal cellar windows and agitated themselves so that on all sides lay the dazzle and glitter of molten sun. Every year, said Grandfather. They run amuck; I let them. Pride of lions in the yard. Stare, and they burn a hole in your retina. A common flower, a weed that no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion.

Let's just say, brat, that if the wits beneath your golden hair were any dimmer you would be not a female, but a dandelion

What they had felt as fragile as a floating dandelion seed rising through the hot summer air. Matt had no idea where it would go.

I am Persephone she said, her voice thin and papery. Welcome, demigods. Nico squashed a pomegranate under his boot. Welcome? After last time, you've got the nerve to welcome me? I shifted uneasily, because talking that way to a god can get you blasted into dust bunnies. Um, Nico- It's all right, Persephone said coldly. We had a little family spat. Family spat? Nico cried. You turned me into a dandelion!

Her dog Custard is a Pomeranian. He looks like a golden dandelion fluff with cat feet. Mrs.

I settled for a cup of coffee. Only it wasn't coffee. It was a coffee substitute made by grinding up dandelion roots. The idea was that it wouldn't keep you awake, and it's always seemed to me that the only thing coffee really has going for it is that it will keep you awake.

Using Twitter like a dandelion uses the wind... Spreading messages, not exactly knowing where they might go, some taking roots and blossoming, some making a adventurous journey through the air but not falling on fertile ground. So what? A process of beauty and joy.

No, Dandelion stuck with his first version. And he never sang it. Never. To no one. Right before the dawn, while it was still dark, a hungry, vicious werewolf crept up to their camp, but saw that it was Dandelion, so he listened for a moment and then went on his way.

Geralt groaned softly, as usual when Dandelion was assailed by nocturnal talkativeness.

Dandelion,' the Witcher sighed, now genuinely tired. 'You're a cynic, a lecher, a womaniser and a liar. And there's nothing, believe me, nothing complicated about that. Goodnight.

Shut up, Dandelion,' the Witcher said. 'I have no intention of so doing. In fact I plan to compose the Ballad of the Two Tits. Please don't interfere.' 'Dandelion,' Dorregaray sniffed through his bloody nose. 'Be serious.' 'I am being bloody serious.

Like the dandelion clocks, all blown and dispersed on the wind, my life has evaporated into the emptiness of a dream; for which I blame my betrayer, that dubious stranger wearing the mask of a once-loved face.

She did not know how to react, for when your heart has been poisoned and someone picks a dandelion for you - because it is bright and yellow and you seem like you could use something like that - all you can do is contemplate the funny ways of weeds.

Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom, golden in the green grass, This life can be. Common as a dandelion-blossom, beautiful in the clean grass, not beautiful Because common, beautiful because beautiful, Noble because common, because free.

barn kittens scattered before his boots like dandelion fluff.

I let my gaze sink to the darken ground. The moon pick out the bitty grass, can see a balden dandelion gray with night. And now first consider what become of Pasha's missing teeth. Children can lose teeth from hunger. Teeth bash out in war. No glad adventure lead to gappen teeth.

She could not have predicted, no one can ever predict anything, that they'd have been raised at a time of protests and drugs and a war they seemed to feel no responsibility for. She pictured a dandelion gone by, the white, almost airless pieces of her family scattered so far. The key to contentment was to never ask why; she had learned that long ago. The

What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.

To celebrate, I decorated my mess tin with a yellow dandelion blossom. It looked like the sun I so rarely see. Van Gogh would have liked it.

I settled for a cup of coffee. Only it wasn't coffee. It was a coffee substitute made by grinding up dandelion roots. The idea was that it wouldn't keep you awake, and it's always seemed to me that the only thing coffee really has going for it is that it will keep you awake.

My fans are pretty spot-on with their gifts. This girl that was super into baking had made this entire batch of cookies - there were one with a dandelion on it, one with a trailer, and some had my face.

The dandelion was long popularly known as the 'pissabed' because of its supposed diuretic properties, and other names in everyday use included 'mare's fart', 'naked ladies', 'twitch-ballock', 'hounds-piss', 'open arse', and 'bum-towel'.