Flowers are the beautiful hairs of the Mother Spring! Don't pluck them!
No ideology can help to create a new world or a new mind or a new human being -- because ideological orientation itself is the root cause of all the conflicts and all the miseries. Thought creates boundaries, thought creates divisions and thought creates prejudices; thought itself cannot bridge them. That's why all ideologies fail. Now man must learn to live without ideologies religious, political or otherwise. When the mind is not tethered to any ideology, it is free to move to new understandings. And in that freedom flowers all that is good and all that is beautiful.
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
A fox is a wolf who sends flowers.
I write the way you might arrange flowers. Not every try works, but each one launches another. Every constraint, even dullness, frees up a new design.
Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare, And left the flushed print in a poppy there. I will touch a hundred flowers And not pick one.
If nobody cares, then it doesn't matter what happens to flowers.
Just opening quietly for moments everyday can create a path by which life can reach us, the way rain carves a little stream in the earth by which the smallest flowers are watered.
Everything is made out of Magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden-in all the places.
If you put good people in bad systems you get bad results. You have to water the flowers you want to grow.
Flowers and fruit are only the beginning. In the seed lies the life and the future.
Wild flowers grow where they will.
I sold flowers. I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of me I'm not fit to sell anything else.
A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers.
In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.
And the fruits will outdo what the flowers have promised.
Repentance clothes in grass and flowers the grave in which the past is laid.
Love teaches you to love your own mortality, just as we love the flowers that bloom for a short time and pass on.
We blossom under praise like flowers in sun and dew; we open, we reach, we grow.
Flowers and plants are silent presences. They nourish every sense except the ear.