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Flowers Quotes

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Flowers Quotes

“In the midst of the heavy, hot fragrance of summer, and of the clean salty smell of the sea, there was the odor of wounded men, a sickly odor of blood and antiseptics which marked the zone of every military hospital. All Athens quickly took on that odor, as the wounded Greek soldiers were moved out of hospitals and piled into empty warehouses to make way for German wounded. Now every church, every empty lot, every school building in Athens is full of wounded, and on the pathways of Zappion, the park in the heart of Athens, bandaged men in makeshift wheel chairs are to be seen wherever one walks. Zappion is a profusion of flowers, heavy-scented luxurious flowers; but even the flower fragrance is not as strong as that of blood.”

WarBloodFlowersFragranceAthensOdorMilitary Occupation
Book:Miracles in Hellas: The Greeks Fight On
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“寻寻觅觅，冷冷清清，凄凄惨惨戚戚。乍暖还寒时候，最难将息。三杯两盏淡酒，怎敌他、晚来风急。雁过也，正伤心，却是旧时相识。满地黄花堆积，憔悴损，如今有谁堪摘？守着窗儿，独自怎生得黑。梧桐更兼细雨，到黄昏，点点滴滴。这次第，怎一个愁字了得。”

WindSadRainWineMelancholyFlowers
Book:李清照诗词全集（作家榜经典文库）
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“I was a vase. The thought struck her as she gazed at the wall of them. She had been a vessel; it was true. She'd stepped into this shop, introduced herself, asked for a job, hoped it would fill her. And then, sitting with Jacob at the community table, she'd been a flower. Snipped from the root, quick to wilt, temporary. She'd existed to be lovely and to be chosen. No one had expected her to last. But she hadn't been a flower when she'd gone to live with Claire, had she? Emilie traveled deeper into the shop. She was in the addition now, its ceiling higher, its rows of tables laden with houseplants. Water, she decided. That's what she'd been with Claire. Shapeless, colorless, but necessary. She'd done what she had to. She had been there for her grandmother. She'd kept her family afloat. But what was she now?”

WaterFamilyRolesIdentityMetaphorFlowersVaseExtended Metaphor
Book:Yerba Buena
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“Jesus was a man of love, of immense compassion. He loved this earth, the people, the threes, because that is the way to love God. God is life. Jesus is very life-affirmative. He says total yes to life. When you look into the eyes of each being that you meet, you meet God. Everybody is an incarnation of God - the threes, the flowers, the rocks, the animals, the people and the mountains. Love the people, love the threes, love the animals - and through the love you meet God. All are brothers here, because God is one. The threes, the flowers, the birds and the rocks are all your brothers, because they all come from the one source. if you are not reconciled with the world, you cannot pray to God. Prayer is only possible when you are in harmony with existence. The whole existence is your brother. The first step for prayer is to be reconciled with your brother. And your brother means all beings. Jesus is a celebration of being, a celebration of life. If you deny life, you deny God. If you say no to life, you say no to God, because God is life. To understand Jesus, you have to understand that life is God. If you say yes to life, you will feel a prayer arising in your heart, a yes arising in your being. The ego is a no to life, the ego is a separation from life. The inner being is a yes to life. The inner being is a deep yes and acceptance of life. Saying yes bridges you with the whole. It makes you a part of the whole. Saying yes will make you more and more spiritual. Jesus whole message is yes. The word "amen" means yes. You will never meet God, you will meet human beings, animals, stones and threes. You can love God through other human beings, through threes, through stones and through animals. And when you have learnt to love God through all his forms - then only love changes into prayer.”

LoveLifeGodTruthEarthJoyReligionSpiritualityJesusRelationshipsPrayerCompassionChristianityMeditationRocksAcceptanceEgoAnimalsFlowersMountainsBrothers
Author:Swami Dhyan Giten
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“Royal summoned mourners. They came from the village, from the neighboring hills and, wailing like dogs at midnight, laid siege to the house. Old women beat their heads against the walls, moaning men prostrated themselves: it was the art of sorrow, and those who best mimicked grief were much admired. After the funeral everyone went away, satisfied that they'd done a good job.”

HouseGriefSatisfactionFuneralFlowersPhonies
Book:House of Flowers
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“I couldn't come up with any words when we arrived- and knew that even if I had been able to paint it, nothing would have done it justice. It wasn't simply that it was the most beautiful place I'd ever been to, or that it filled me with both longing and mirth, but it just seemed... right. As if the colours and lights and patterns of the world had come together to form one perfect place- one true bit of beauty. After last night, it was exactly where I needed to be. We sat atop a grassy knoll, overlooking a glade of oaks so wide and high they could have been the pillars and spires of an ancient castle. Shimmering tufts of dandelion fluff drifted by, and the floor of the clearing was carpeted with swaying crocuses and snowdrops and bluebells. It was an hour or two past noon by the time we arrived, but the light was thick and golden. Though the three of us were alone, I could have sworn I heard singing. I hugged my knees and drank in the glen.”

BeautifulLongingSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronFlowersA Court Of Thorns And RosesMirthGlenKnoll
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“স্রষ্টা ফল দিয়েছেন যেন আমরা ক্ষুধা নিবারণ করতে পারি। একইভাবে তিনি ফুল দিয়েছেন যেন প্রয়োজনে তা কাজে লাগানো যায়। ফল যেমন গাছে সুন্দর আবার ঝুড়িতেও সুন্দর, তেমনি ফুল গাছে সুন্দর আবার প্রেমিক বা প্রেমিকার হাতেও সুন্দর! আমি বিনীতভাবে দ্বিমত পোষণ করি যারা বলেন যে ফুল শুধু গাছেই শোভা পায়। ফল যেমন গাছেই রেখে দিলে নষ্ট হয়ে যাবে, তেমনি ফুলও ব্যবহৃত না হলে অযথাই নষ্ট হবে!”

GodBeautifulBeautyWasteHungerBelovedFlowersLoverTreesMd Ziaul Haque
Author:Md. Ziaul Haque
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“God has given fruits so that we can satisfy hunger. Similarly, He has given flowers so that they can be used if necessary. Just as the fruits are beautiful in the tree and also in the basket, likewise, the flowers are beautiful in the tree and also in the lover or beloved’s hands. I humbly disagree with those who say that flowers adorn only the trees. As leaving the fruits in the tree will destroy them, equally, if the flowers are not used, they will be pointlessly wasted!”

GodBeautifulBeautyWasteHungerBelovedFlowersLoverTreesMd Ziaul Haque
Author:Md. Ziaul Haque
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“What a face this girl possessed!—could I not gaze at it every day I would need to recreate it through painting, sculpture, or fatherhood until a second such face is born. Her face, at once innocent and feral, soft and wild! Her mouth voluptuous. Eyes deep as oceans, her eyes as wide as planets. I likened her to the slender Psyché and judged that the perfection of her face ennobled everything unclean around her: the dusty hems of her bunched-up skirt, the worn straps of her nightshirt; the blackened soles of her tiny bare feet, the coal-stained balcony bricks upon which she sat, and that dusty wrought-ironwork that framed her perch. All this and the pungent air!—almost foul, with so many odors. Ô, that and the spicy night! …Pungency, spice, filth and night, dust and light; all things dark did blossom in sight; flower and bloom, the night has its pearl too—the moon! And once a month it will make the face of this tender girl bloom.”

LoveBeautifulFacesWomenBeautyPaintingGuitarFlowersDirtFatherhoodSculptureFaceCleanlinessRomanBarcelonaPsycheFull MoonRoman PayneSmellsPayneThe WanderessBalconySkirtNightshirt
Author:Roman Payne
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“Gusts of fiery winds blow, blasting a furnace of heat. The air rings with the shrill screams of my beloved carnations. Rising and falling, they shed their flower heads upon the worn, foot trodden dirt. Staring up, their heads smile sadly, their petals shedding tears. Rolling across the planks, they reach out for me. The carnation flower's scent is fragrant in the breeze. It wakes me so I escape the dark world of dreams.”

EnvironmentMysteryMetaphorFlowersConservationNature S BeautySpiritual ConnectionDark DreamsNatural SpiritCarnation Scent
Book:Fleur of Yesterday
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“When I was younger, my mom loved to garden. But the flowers would never grow. She kept planting seeds even thought nothing would grow. She just kept trying.' 'I don't understand.' 'Because you can't.' 'What does this have to do with anything?' I don't fiddle with my fingers and there's no apology on the tip of my tongue when I say, 'I am my mother's son.”

HopeGrowthDeterminationPerseveranceYaComing Of AgeYoung Adult FictionFlowersGardens
Book:Society's Foundlings
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“I dream of a small room and a man with one eye. Blood seeps like scarlet tears from his empty socket. I turn away and the room becomes a hallway that becomes a stairway that becomes a roof. The wind tugs at my body; the sky tries to wrap me in stars. Below me, a gazebo glows with red light. A line of black cars crawls like cockroaches through the streets. An air conditioner exhaust fan chitters angrily near the roof’s edge, one of its blades bent just enough to scrape against the side of the casing. For a second I let the wind push me close enough to the fan’s razor- sharp blades that a lock of my hair gets snipped and sent out into the night. As it twists and flutters toward the gazebo, I think about just letting go, letting the breeze carry my body into the whirling blades, the wind scattering pieces of me throughout the city. Blood and flesh seeping into the cracked pavement. Flowers blooming wherever I land.”

DreamsBloodFlowersCarsNighttime
Book:Vicarious
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“…”The Emersons who were at Florence, do you mean? No, I don’t suppose it will prove to be them. It is probably a long cry from them to friends of Mr. Vyse’s. Oh, Mrs. Honeychurch, the oddest people! The queerest people! For our part we liked them, didn’t we?” He appealed to Lucy. “There was a great scene over some violets. They picked violets and filled all the vases in the room of these very Miss Alans who have failed to come to Cissie Villa. Poor little ladies! So shocked and so pleased. It used to be one of Miss Catharine’s great stories. ‘My dear sister loves flowers,’ it began. They found the whole room a mass of blue — vases and jugs — and the story ends with ‘So ungentlemanly and yet so beautiful.’ It is all very difficult. Yes, I always connect those Florentine Emersons with violets.”…”

TravelBlueFlowersItalyFlorenceViolets
Book:A Room with a View
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“In awe at the sheer beauty of the setting, Celina stepped onto the balcony, which overlooked a terrace garden of fruit trees. "It's so beautiful here." She breathed in, catching the scent of fruit trees below. "What type of fruit are you growing?" "Mostly lemon," Sara said. "But also olive, grapefruit, orange, fig, and pomegranate. With our temperate climate, most everything thrives." Celina peered over the balcony's edge. To one side, a cliff dropped to the sea, while on the other, a terrace sprawled along the hilltop perch. Flaming pink bougainvillea and snowy white jasmine curled around the corners of grapevine-covered archways that framed the shimmering ocean view.”

FlowersItalyFruit TreesNaplesOcean View
Book:The Chocolatier
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