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Flowers Quotes

Browse 649 quotes about Flowers.

Flowers Quotes

“Abi snaps her fingers. "Focus, here. Now for those of us in here who are ignorant of certain facts, or pretending to be, you know who sends flowers? Men who got fucked or who fucked up." She holds up one finger and then another, giving the two options. "So, which is it? Did our mysterious Kaede fuck up so badly that he had to call my first thing this morning to order flowers? Or is your vajayjay so good that he was calling me for 'thank you for letting me into your lady cave' flowers? Which is it? Are we mad at him, because I've got a compost pile if we need to ditch his body, or is he the latest addict to the Courtney cream?”

MenFlowers
Book:My Big Fat Fake Engagement
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“How did these organs of plant sex manage to get themselves cross-wired with human ideas of value and status and Eros? And what might our ancient attraction for flowers have to teach us about the deeper mysteries of beauty - what one poet has called "this grace wholly gratuitous"? Is that what it is? Or does beauty have a purpose? (64)”

BeautyFlowersPlants
Book:The Botany of Desire: A Plant's-Eye View of the World
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“Flowers and fruits are always fit presents; flowers, because they are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world. These gay natures contrast with the somewhat stern countenance of ordinary nature: they are like music heard out of a work-house. Nature does not cocker us; we are children, not pets; she is not fond; everything is dealt to us without fear or favor, after severe universal laws. Yet these delicate flowers look like the frolic and interference of love and beauty. Men use to tell us that we love flattery even though we are not deceived by it, because it shows that we are of importance enough to be courted. Something like that pleasure, the flowers give us: what am I to whom these sweet hints are addressed?”

BeautyFlowersGiftsNecessity
Author:Ralph Waldo Emerson
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“পার্থক্য জীবনকে সুন্দর করে। ফুলের মতোই প্রতিটি মানুষ অনন্য। আমাদের প্রশ্ন করা উচিত নয় কেন লোকেরা আলাদা, তবে বৈচিত্র্যের সৌন্দর্যের প্রশংসা করা উচিত।”

LifeBeautifulBeautyQuoteFlowersDifferenceMd Ziaul HaqueKing Of Words
Author:Md. Ziaul Haque
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“He circles the shrines, scanning each of them. There's one made in exclusively soft shades of pink, with a bouquet of blush roses at the center. It's surrounded by oysters, each one nestling a pearl. Smooth, heart-shaped rose quartz surrounds the perimeter in a perfect circle. Sliced guava reveals its rosy flesh, next to clamshells full of cherry blossoms. Another is built from a large shell in the center, filled with water that reflects the moon. White magnolias float on the surface, along with golden glitter that sparkles like starlight. Oranges with long stems and blossoms surround the shell, paired with sliced mango drizzled with honey. I swear I know who some of these belong to. The one with green grapes and pears decorated with golden butterfly appliqué must be Genevieve's. Beside it is one crafted from fuchsia carnations and obnoxiously large peonies, with different berries in porcelain dishes painted with bright pink flowers. So obviously Amelia's.”

BeautyFlowersShrinesFruitsDecorumOfferingsSeashells
Book:Dance of the Starlit Sea
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“I did make a mistake in judging Anne, but it weren't no wonder, for an odder, unexpecteder witch of a child there never was in this world, that's what. There was no ciphering her out by the rules that worked with other children. It's nothing short of wonderful how she's improved these three years, but especially in looks. She's a real pretty girl got to be, though I can't say I'm overly partial to that pale, big-eyed style myself. I like more snap and color, like Diana Barry or Ruby Gillis. Ruby Gillis' looks are real showy. But somehow- I don't know how it is but when Anne and them are together, though she ain't half as handsome, she makes them look kind of common and overdone- something like them white June lilies she calls narcissus alongside of the big, red peonies, that's what.”

InspirationalBeautyGreenClassicFlowersOne Of A KindAnneAnne Of Green GablesAnne With An E
Book:Anne of Green Gables
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“Einstein himself said that "God doesn't play dice with the universe." What is the source of this pattern? Why is the world so beautiful? It could so easily be otherwise: flowers could be ugly to us and still fulfil their own purpose. But they're not.”

BeautifulBeautyFlowers
Book:Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants
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“There is beauty to all things, a flower is beautiful even though it wilts, people are beautiful even though they commit such crimes, death is beautiful because first there must come life. But I think it’s hope that is most beautiful in its destruction. Because even lost to the smallest of embers, that ember can start a fire that will set the night ablaze,” he said to the stars.”

InspirationalHopeStarsLossBeautySadDestructionFlowers
Book:When the Crows fly
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“The relief Kieran felt was staggering. The sick-satisfaction of justice burned through him like an oil spill, waiting for him to drop a match, to let it all go up in flames as he laughed through the rain of hellfire. But he didn’t. He pocketed the metaphysical match. He vacuumed the torrential oil spill. He had just turned his wasteland into a rain forest; he would not let his resentment burn down the trees he had grown out of the garden of his own mind. Kieran himself had come too far to let the angry hand of vengeance burn away his fertile terrains, ruin his harvests of the pure flora kingdom and slaughter his animals to ribbons in sacrifice to greater demons whose jaws never shut. Homeostasis was a hard-earned tendency. Bonfires were clumsy and unwarranted; if he let it consume him and everything he’d built, all he had cultivated would be for nothing. He did not want his flowers to die.”

NatureJusticeHealingAcceptanceForgivenessRevengeMoving OnFlamesFlowersHomeostasis
Book:The Light that Binds Us
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“I've stayed here in Oxford as the seasons have changed, watching summer turn to autumn turn to winter turn to spring. And in the coming cycle, I will be here once more. Season after season, year after year, as crocuses make way for summer honeysuckle, as sun-loving lantana ease out for the quieter mums, as pansies blanket the wintry town and as spring beauties burst forth again behind the snow. I'll still be here with Fisher by my side. Because this spring the stars aligned, as Marian promised they would. I picked a mid-March spray of spirea, made myself a bridal bouquet, and gave my whole heart to the man whose heart was given whole to me.”

True LoveFlowersNatures BeautySeasons ChangingExchanging Vows
Book:Perennials
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“Eccolo!” he exclaimed. At the same moment the ground gave way, and with a cry she fell out of the wood. Light and beauty enveloped her. She had fallen on to a little open terrace, which was covered with violets from end to end. “Courage!” cried her companion, now standing some six feet above. “Courage and love.” She did not answer. From her feet the ground sloped sharply into view, and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts, irrigating the hillside with blue, eddying round the tree stems, collecting into pools in the hollows, covering the grass with spots of azure foam. But never again were they in such profusion; this terrace was the well-head, the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth. Standing at its brink, like a swimmer who prepares, was the good man. But he was not the good man that she had expected, and he was alone. George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her, as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face, he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her…”

RomanceBlueKissFlowersItalyFirst KissViolets
Book:A Room with a View
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“Although Harriet found fulfillment in the vegetable patch and the food it provided them, she discovered that she was most drawn to the small mounds of untended earth that sat around the grounds. Nearer to the house and along the rock wall, Harriet could feel traces of flowers too--- more intentionally planted at some point in this home's history. Whenever she placed her palms on the earth, she was both reading its vibrations and giving something of herself to it. It was an exchange that she was beginning to understand more, certain now that it started with her. She had a unique touch that somehow awakened an urgent attentiveness in flowers and other plants, and then, once they blossomed, they became whatever she needed them to be. A sort of call-and-response. Here, she could be her full self, and the plants responded beautifully to that. She supposed she'd never been her full self anywhere before, which was why she hadn't understood the depth of her own abilities. This morning, she could feel the presence of once-grown peonies and lily of the valley in the earth beneath her. Her heart leapt as she watched the peony stems grow to life and then the layers of pink peel open before her eyes--- an offering, a blessing, a study in delicate beauty. It was more like a dream than her reality, especially as it was still not yet spring. With another touch, she prepared the way for the wispy, hanging flower bells, but she did not stop there. She moved her way around the stone wall, sensing which flowers wanted to grow here, and she gave them life. Growing these flowers gave Harriet something tangible to focus on, and she hoped the fragrances and colors cheered Eunice and Lewis as much as they cheered her.”

GrowthFlowersOne With NatureEarth Magick
Book:The Peculiar Garden of Harriet Hunt
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“There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait." She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead, Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.”

LovePoetryFlowers
Author:Alfred Tennyson
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“We are often given pills or fluids to help remedy illness, yet little has been taught to us about the power of smell to do the exact same thing. It is known that the scent of fresh rosemary increases memory, but this cure for memory loss is not divulged by doctors to help the elderly. I also know that the most effective use of the blue lotus flower is not from its dilution with wine or tea – but from its scent. To really maximize the positive effects of the blue lily (or the pink lotus), it must be sniffed within minutes of plucking. This is why it is frequently shown being sniffed by my ancient ancestors on the walls of temples and on papyrus. Even countries across the Orient share the same imagery. The sacred lotus not only creates a relaxing sensation of euphoria, and increases vibrations of the heart, but also triggers genetic memory - and good memory with an awakened heart ushers wisdom.”

HeartPhilosophyWisdomPowerFlowerHealthEnlightenmentDoctorsWineMedicineMemoryIllnessSmellEastScriptureCuresTeaTemplesTreatmentHealthcareRemedyFlowersPhysiciansScentMetaphysicsEgyptPillsElderlyVibrationsAwakenedTombsGeneticsEuphoriaCureMemory LossRosemaryEgyptiansLilyLotus FlowerLotusIllnessesPapyrusAncient EgyptiansSmellingAncient MedicineOrientGenetic MemoryFluidsAwakened HeartBlue LilyAilmentSacred LotusImagery SacredIncreaes MemoryPower Of ScentPower Of Smell
Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“All that your mother wanted was to give you education and to fulfill your dreams. She’s not here anymore – but her memories still live. Her art works still live and some of them are in the national museum. Her trees still live – and still blossom in spring. And more than everything, her passion still lives in the heart of her son – who loves to paint just like his mother.”

LoveMotherMemoriesEducationPatienceFlowersTrees
Book:A Play of the Cosmos: Script of the Stars
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