Flowers are reincarnation. They come out of the earth of our ashes. Nothing else looks so soul-like.
I won't ask you if you ever received flowers from a man before. But it was my first, gifting flowers to a woman.
The career of flowers differs from ours only inaudibleness.
The more we learn about flowers, the less silent they are.
It is with flowers as with moral qualities; the bright are sometimes poisonous; but, I believe, never the sweet.
If you admire somebody, you should go ahead and tell them. People never get the flowers while they can still smell them.
Every spring, this country will be reminded of the Lady from Texas. As trees bloom and flowers carpet our nation's capital, Lady Bird Johnson will be remembered. Only Lady Bird Johnson could, with her vision of a beautiful America, lay claim to spring as her memorial.
The flowers were so beautiful, so delicate and unthreatening, but they choked everything around them.
A change fell upon all things. Strange brilliant flowers, star-shaped, burst out upon the trees where no flowers had been before. The tints of the green carpet deepened; and when, one by one, the white daisies shrank away, there sprang up, in place of them, ten by ten of the ruby-red asphodel. And life arose in our paths; for the tall flamingo hitherto unseen, with all gay glowing birds, flaunted his scarlet plumage before us. The golden and silver fish haunted the river.
Man, do you think yours is the only soul? Look around you. Everything that you see quivers with being. Though your thoughts are free, one thing you do not think about: the whole. Beasts have a mind; respect it. Flowers too- look at one. Nature brought forth each petal. There is a mystery that sleeps in metal. Everything feels, and has power over you.
What could be said about me. . . a man to whom only his painting matters? And of course his garden and his flowers as well.
a generation that cannot endure boredom will be a generation of little men, of men unduly divorced from the slow process of nature, of men in whom every vital impulse slowly withers as though they were cut flowers in a vase.
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.
I cultivate my flowers and burn my weeds.
To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
There are flowers everywhere, for those who bother to look.
I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that's for lover's thoughts.
He stopped and looked at her. "Your eyes are leaking. " "It's the flowers. They make me sneeze. " "Then let us be away from the garden. Open the door, love, if you will. " She obeyed, then froze halfway over the threshold. "What did you call me?" "The first of countless endearments if you'll but stir yourself to hold our current course.
All flowers are flirtatious - particularly if they carry hyphenated names. The more hyphens in the name, the flirtier the flower. The one-hyphen flowers - black-eyed Susan; lady-smock; musk-rose - may give you only a shy glance and then drop their eyes; the two-hyphen flowers - forget-me-not; flower-de-luce - keep glancing. Flowers with three or more hyphens flirt all over the garden and continue even when they are cut and arranged in vases. John-go-to-bed-at-noon does not go there simply to sleep.
If there were nothing else to trouble us, the fate of the flowers would make us sad.