Love is like wildflowers; It's often found in the most unlikely places.
Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are.
He who wants a rose must respect her thorn.
Wildflowers don't care where they grow.
Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars? Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple and such an extraordinary part of the lives we live.
I wake up thinking: What am I reading? What will I read next? I'm terrified that I'll run out, that I will read through all I want to, and be forced to learn wildflowers at last, to keep awake.
You belong somewhere you feel free.
My twenties were about exploring love and being a wildflower and trying to figure everything out. Now I'm not comfortable being that happy wildflower anymore, but I still don't feel like a woman. I wonder when that moment's going to hit.
Do you suppose she's a wildflower?
Wildflowers are the stuff of my heart!
Wildflower corners are easy to maintain, but once gone, they are hard to rebuild.
Goodbye Darcy, goodbye Jean, goodbye stone cottage, scratchy towels, fields of wildflowers; good bye gorgeous Peak District. . . OK English People, for your own good, get off the roads, here we come!
No matter how chaotic it is, wildflowers will still spring up in the middle of nowhere.
You belong among the wildflowers You belong in a boat out at sea You belong with your love on your arm You belong somewhere you feel free
My special cause, the one that alerts my interest and quickens the pace of my life, is to preserve the wildflowers and native plants that define the regions of our land-to encourage and promote their use in appropriate areas, and thus help pass on to generation in waiting the quiet jobs and satisfactions I have known since my childhood.
How do you press a wildflower into the pages of an e-book?
Like wildflowers you must allow yourself to grow in all the places people thought you never would.
It will create an excitement that will sweep the country like wildflowers
One person's weed is another person's wildflower.
I dream of a quiet man who explains nothing and defends nothing, but only knows where the rarest wildflowers are blooming, and who goes, and finds that he is smiling not by his own will.
