Flower Quotes

I believe flowers have souls. I have known roses that I expect to meet in heaven.

In the midst of the fountain of wit there arises something bitter, which stings in the very flowers.

Love is a hard rock between two people and can't be torn apart

Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses.

Our advantages fly away without aid. Pluck the flower. [Lat., Nostra sine auxilio fugiunt bona. Carpite florem.]

Mostly, though, I dream of good things...I dream that flowers will bloom in the streets..again and music will play in the...houses and kites will fly in the skies.

My assistants generally do all the flowers and all of the decorative work. I concentrate on the figure.

Flowers are nice, but love is better.

Death is the opening of a more subtle life. In the flower, it sets free the perfume; in the chrysalis, the butterfly; in man, the soul.

My poems are like a dagger Sprouting flowers from the hilt; My poetry is like a fountain Sprinkling streams of coral water.

In search of my Love I will go over mountains and strands; I will gather no flowers, I will fear no wild beasts; And pass by the mighty and the frontiers.

Trees do not force their sap, nor does the flower push its bloom.

It's quite sad to see how many people I've known over that years that just die off, you know like wilted flowers. Well, there's something to be said for flowers in the dustbin.

Art trains the mind through the eye, and the eye through the mind. As the sun colors flowers, so does art color life.

And let these altars, wreathed with flowers And piled with fruits, awake again Thanksgivings for the golden hours, The early and the latter rain!

Appreciation - Learn to give flowers while people are still living

Man is born only as a potential. He can become a thorn for himself and for others, he can also become a flower for himself and for others.

If we constantly focus on the stones in our mortal path, we will almost surely miss the beautiful flower or cool stream provided by a loving Father who outlined our journey.

The original Greek meaning of the word anthology is a collection or gathering of flowers in bloom.

There ain't no doubt in my mind that love is the finest thing around

A weed is no more than a flower in disguise, Which is seen through at once, if love give a man eyes.

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold.

Evil springs up, and flowers, and bears no seed, And feeds the green earth with its swift decay, Leaving it richer for the growth of truth.

Eternity has no gray hairs! The flowers fade, the heart withers, man grows old and dies, the world lies down in the sepulchre of ages, but time writes no wrinkles on the brow of Eternity.

Do not spend the day in gathering flowers by the way side, lest night come upon you before you arrive at your journey's end, and then you will not reach it.

The infinitude of creation is great enough to make a world, or a Milky Way of worlds, look in comparison with it what a flower or an insect does in comparison with the Earth.

A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over.

We grow like flowers, and bear desire, the odor of the human flowers.

Love is a bodily shape; and Christian works are no more than animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate springtide.

Whether the flower looks better in the nosegay than in the meadow where it grew and we had to wet our feet to get it! Is the scholastic air any advantage?

But my sadness is comforting Because it’s right and natural And because it’s what the soul should feel When it already thinks it exists And the hand pick flowers And the soul takes no notice.

How sure I feel, how warm and strong and happy For the future! How sure the future is within me; I am like a seed with a perfect flower enclosed.

When we really let go, we become everything. At that point we are identified with all things: the flower, the oak tree, the morning star.

Too late I stayed, - forgive the crime! Unheeded flew the hours; How noiseless falls the foot of time That only treads on flowers.

There is something inspiring and sublime about the little forget-me-not flower. I hope it will be a symbol of the little things that make your lives joyful and sweet.

Yet, though it is like this, simply, flowers fall amid our longing and weeds spring up amid our antipathy.

We are a species that has lost its way. Everything natural, every flower or tree, and every animal have important lessons to teach us if we would only stop, look, and listen.

The golden age is not in the past, but in the future; not in the origin of human experience, but in its consummate flower; not opening in Eden, but out from Gethsemane.

Weeds grow sometimes very much like flowers, and you can't tell the difference between true and false merely by the shape.

Our judgment ripens; our imagination decays. We cannot at once enjoy the flowers of the Spring of life and the fruits of its Autumn.

The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.

It was a perfect spring afternoon, and the air was filled with vague, roving scents, as if the earth exhaled the sweetness of hidden flowers.

You throw thorns, falling in my silence they become flowers.

Anyone who doesn't feel the crosses simply doesn't get that country.

O Day after day we can't help growing older. Year after year spring can't help seeming younger. Come let's enjoy our winecup today, Nor pity the flowers fallen.

I sold flowers. I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of me I'm not fit to sell anything else.

For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

Watering the flowers and the trees, whispering to them, talking to them. Then, they will grow to be more bright and luxuriant.

Women are not the weak, frail little flowers that they are advertised. There has never been anything invented yet, including war, that a man would enter into, that a woman wouldn't, too.

Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear?