All Quotes By Tag: Flowers

“See life like a rose; don’t see it for the prickly thorns, see it for the color of the petals”

“Trust me: if it doesn’t match: it will clash! Focusing on a stunning complimentary color instead of a close-but-not-quite-right one is one of the most helpful contributions you can make to the design.”

“You’ve got to plant flowers in the center of your soul if you want to bloom.”

“they saythey only wantflowersto grow frommy mouth,so i willlook themdeadin theeyeas ishovesoft petalspastmy lips,chewwithmy jawcompletelyunhinged,& spitthemdownattheir feet-i will never be your expectations of me”

“An enemy is like a man’s most prized flower. It brings him joy to see it buried in the ground.”

“What branch does not have its leaves and which twig will not have its flowers?”

“If Springtime crawls out of thewild mouths of flowers, thensurely, Winter crawls out of mine.”

“The calla lilies are in bloom again. Such a strange flower—suitable to any occasion. I carried them on my wedding day, and now I place them here in memory of something that has died.”

“Thoughts flit in and out of my mind like floating white dandelion seed-heads. What if the mole is cancerous?”

“أهدى إليها ورداً في إحدى المناسبات، وبعد ساعات … دق جرس التليفون وسمع صوتاً يقول: أشكرك … لقد أسعدتني !ليس هذا صوتها … إنه صوت الورد !!”

“The flower worn in her hair grew not out of water but out of love.”

“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…”

“A flower is there to bloom and make the earth beautiful and full of the joy of life.”

“One hand was behind his back, and he held it out, presenting a bouquet of white and smoky purple lilies. “They’re straight from the underworld, by the way. They are everlasting. They won’t die.”

“A fallen blossomreturning to the bough, I thought –But no, a butterfly.”