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Flowers Quotes

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Flowers Quotes

“Strive in stride like the resilient wildflowers that begin each day by turning to face the rolling sunrise. Even when the weight of the world has cemented their original path, they still rise through cracks in the sidewalk to find the sun and shine, never putting off until tomorrow because they inherently know, now’s the time. For it is with every sunrise that hope is born for change with new opportunities to make dreams come alive”

InspirationalMotivationalHopeNatureChangeStriveFlowersSunriseWildflowersNow Is The Time
Author:Marie Helen Abramyan
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“It is easier to tell a person what life is not, rather than to tell them what it is. A child understands weeds that grow from lack of attention, in a garden. However, it is hard to explain the wild flowers that one gardener calls weeds, and another considers beautiful ground cover.”

LifeHumorTruthFunnyReligionValuesDifferencesDiversityGardeningFlowersCommandmentsBeliefsRulesOpinionsGuidelinesWildflowersPerspectivesWay Of LifeObservationsObservations On LifeVariationsSpeculationsMessed Up PeopleComplicated PeopleAll DifferentAncient Chinese WisdomFortune Cookie AdviceGround CoverViewing Things Different
Author:Shannon L. Alder
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“They were in the middle of a garden with trees shaped as animals. There were gorillas and camels and lions. Rosie felt like she was in some strange storybook circus. Any minute the gorillas would start talking and the lions would charge towards her. "What are we doing here?" Rosie's eyes went wide. "Just follow me." Josh grinned. Rosie followed him through a maze of gardens, each more elaborate than the last. There was a Japanese garden bursting with pink and white blossoms. They passed a water garden with floating lilies, and a tropical garden with birds of paradise and purple irises. Finally they entered a small garden with low-lying plants. A butterfly rested on almost every leaf. Rosie had never seen so many butterflies. She stood still as a statue, afraid if she moved they'd fly away. "This is my favorite," Josh said as if he created the garden. "It's called the butterfly garden. All the flowers contain food attractive to butterflies. The butterflies lay their eggs and feast for days before they fly away." "They're like kaleidoscopes." Rosie peered at a butterfly with gold-and-turquoise wings.”

DatingFlowersButterfliesGardensTopiary Garden
Book:California Summer
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“Shall I tell you the secret of true love? her father once asked her. A friend of mine liked to tell me that women love flowers. He had many flirtations, but he never found a wife. Do you know why? Because women may love flowers, but only one woman loves the scent of gardenias in late summer that remind her of her grandmother's porch. Only one woman loves apple blossoms in a blue cup. Only one woman loves wild geraniums. That's Mama! Inej had cried. Yes. Mama loves wild geraniums because no other flower has quite the same color, and she claims that when she snaps the stem and puts a sprig behind her ear, the whole world smells like summer. Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you'll meet a boy who will learn your favourite flower, your favourite song, your favourite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won't matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.”

LoveFlowersThe OneInej GhafaPage 136
Book:Six of Crows
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“A woman's body is a sacred temple. A work of art, and a life-giving vessel. And once she becomes a mother, her body serves as a medicine cabinet for her infant. From her milk she can nourish and heal her own child from a variety of ailments. And though women come in a wide assortment as vast as the many different types of flowers and birds, she is to reflect divinity in her essence, care and wisdom. God created a woman's heart to be a river of love, not to become a killing machine.”

LoveLifeHeartChildrenArtWarGodWisdomBodyCareBeautifulSpiritualMotherSpiritualityWomenWaterHealingBeautyWiseDivineFlowerHealthBabyHolyDiseaseBirdFemaleEssenceSacredMedicineSoldierCreatorCaringMotherhoodHealCuresWomanSicknessDivinityMilkChildHealthcareMaryWarfareFlowersWomanhoodInfantHuman BodyVesselCradleBirdsRiverNourishmentMother EarthMotheringSuzy KassemFemalesFemale BodyTempleMother S LoveFemale FormTenderness Of HeartNourishingWoman S BodyLife GivingKilling MachineLife GiverRiver Of LoveSacred TempleMother S Heart
Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“The real perfectibility of man may be illustrated, as I have mentioned before, by the perfectibility of a plant. The object of the enterprising florist is, as I conceive, to unite size, symmetry, and beauty of colour. It would surely be presumptuous in the most successful improver to affirm, that he possessed a carnation in which these qualities existed in the greatest possible state of perfection. However beautiful his flower may be, other care, other soil, or other suns, might produce one still more beautiful.”

CareBeautyPerfectionImprovementFlowersPlantsFlorist
Book:An Essay on the Principle of Population
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“As Yarrow slept and the moon rose high in the sky, a breeze rustled through stalks of onyx-hued basil and deep gray sage, tall as sunflowers. Starlight fell in slants across petals of black violets. A night-dark strawberry rolled across the ground. A plum-colored tomato fell from its stem. Borage and pansies and nasturtium in varying shades of black and gray turned the darkness into its own kind of rainbow. Beneath the soil lurked something even darker. Generations of pain saturated the earth, fed each stem and fruit and flower. In the soft, thick leaves of sage: loss. In the blackened basil: broken hearts. Tucked inside the husks of charcoal corn: anger and betrayal. Trapped within the bell of burgundy calla lilies: stolen innocence.”

PainGardenVegetablesFlowersHerbsMagicalThrivingNighttime Beauty
Book:In the Shadow Garden
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“Amongst the ochre leaves are roses: deep-crimson Gabriel Oak, apricot-blushed Lady Emma Hamilton and the final breath of the haunting white Direktör Benschop, which clambers through the yew hedges. There are Japanese anemones-- windflowers-- and at the far end of the garden, at the foot of the crab apple tree, a cluster of pale-pink autumn cyclamen.”

GardenFlowersRoses
Book:A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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“A gardener's grandmother will have grown such and such a rose, and the smell of that rose at dusk (for flowers always seem to be most fragrant at the end of the day, as if that, smelling, was the last thing to do before going to sleep), when the gardener was a child and walking in the grandmother's footsteps as she went about her business in her garden - the memory of that smell of the rose combined with the memory of that smell of the grandmother's skirt will forever inform and influence the life of the gardener, inside or outside the garden itself.”

InspirationalNatureSpringGardenUpliftingGardeningFlowersRoses
Book:In the Garden: Essays on Nature and Growing
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“She made her way up the front walk, slowly so her free hand could stroke the peonies' bountiful pink blooms framing the Murdochs' front garden. Nellie murmured sweet lullabies to them as she did, nurturing the flowers the way she would a child of she were ever lucky enough to have one. Turning onto the sidewalk, she eyed her roses- yellow, stunning- which were her pride and joy, and on full display for the neighborhood. Soon she'd have to deadhead them to allow for a second bloom cycle. Roses were a lot of work, but they gave much in return.”

FlowersRosesTender Loving CareGreen Thumb
Book:Recipe for a Perfect Wife
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“I have important things to tell you, but who can concentrate with all that racket?" That "racket" turned out to be because of flowers, hundreds of them, arriving by the cartful. Roses, orchids, lilies, daffodils, irises, and a dozen other varieties that she could not name. Heavy porcelain vases were mounted all around the grand ballroom and the royal gardens, displaying the arrangements in all their grandeur. But one arrangement stood out from the rest. From the duchess's window, Cinderella watched the gardeners erect a trellis studded with roses. When the palace staff wheeled out a barrow of flowers, white pearlescent roses intertwined with pink ones as flushed as the height of sunrise, she nearly gasped. Her parents' favorite flowers. White and pink roses, with a touch of myrtle. Charles had been listening.”

FlowersRemembranceRosesCinderellaBouquet Of FlowersCinderella And Charles
Book:So This is Love
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“Joe had always pretended indifference to flowers. He preferred fruit trees, herbs and vegetables, things to be picked and harvested, stored, dried, pickled, bottled, pulped, made into wine. But there were always flowers in his garden all thee same. Planted as if on an afterthought: dahlias, poppies, lavender, hollyhocks. Roses twined among the tomatoes. Sweet peas among the bean poles. Part of it was camouflage, of course. Part of it a lure for bees. But the truth was that Joe liked flowers, and was reluctant even to pull weeds. Jay would not have seen the rose garden if he had not known where to look. The wall against which the roses had once been trained had been partly knocked down, leaving an irregular section of brick about fifteen feet long. Greenery had shot up it, almost reaching the top, creating a dense thicket in which he hardly recognized the roses themselves. With the shears he clipped a few briars free and revealed a single large red rose almost touching the ground. "Old rose," remarked Joe, peering closer. "Best kind for cookin'. You should try makin' some rose petal jam. Champion." Jay wielded the shears again, pulling the tendrils away from the bush. He could see more rosebuds now, tight and green away from the sun. The scent from the open flower was light and earthy.”

FlowersRosesRose Garden
Book:Blackberry Wine
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“She shook her hair in the cool breeze and inhaled, the scents of lavender and rose and jasmine sweet in the lucent air. They passed fields where delicately scented rosa centifolia bushes grew. "How was the rose crop this year?" "Excellent. We had a mild spring and a generous rainfall. Twenty to twenty-five blossoms on every branch. Our rose was indeed the 'queen of the flowers' this year, to quote the Greek poet Sappho." He lifted his chin and peered at her down his nose. "Our rose de mai is expensive, Danieeele, but far superior to others." Laughter bubbled in her throat. "Your Gallic pride is showing, Philippe." He expressed a puff of air between pursed lips. "Bulgaria? Morocco? You can't tell me their roses are better than mine." "Just different," she said with patience. "Moroccan roses have a rich perfume, and Bulgaria's Valley of the Roses produces lovely damascena roses scented with a brilliant tinge of pear.”

FlowersRosesScentsBulgarianMoroccanGenus
Book:Scent of Triumph
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