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...

Then on quaint pedestals and Terminal Gods and gracious pilasters of every sort, were shell-like vases of excessive fruits and flowers that hung about and burst over the edges and could never be restrained. The orange-trees and myrtles, looped with vermilion sashes, stood in frail porcelain pots, and the rose-trees were wound and twisted with...

A weed is but an unloved flower.

A few blossoms float into the room. They drop like frayed yellow ribbons on the gray carpet.

My favorite flower is the tulip. I’m crazy like Holland about them. I’ll even pay as much as $1,637 for one.

I had a dream about you. You had hair like dandelion blowball, and I was one hurricane sneeze away from making you bald. You may have been in danger of losing your hair, but at least you would have more children than Charlemagne.

I read somewhere once that souls were like flowers,’ said Priscilla.’Then your soul is a golden narcissus,’ said Anne, ‘and Diana’s is like a red, red rose. Jane’s is an apple blossom, pink and wholesome and sweet.”And our own is a white violet, with purple streaks in its heart,’ finished Priscilla.

I have no heroes except flowers and children.

… the cattleyas especially (these being, with chrysanthemums, her favourite flowers), because they had the supreme merit of not looking in the least like other flowers, but of being made, apparently, out of scraps of silk or satin.

The scent of flowers is the glory of gardens and the scent of art is the glory of Paris!

I don’t like flowers, chocolate, cakes or diamonds either, I am definitely not a hard one to impress.

The flowers must have been the latest generation of perennials, whose ancestors were first planted by a woman who lived in the ruins when the ruins were a raw, unpainted house inhabited by herself and a smoky, serious husband and perhaps a pair or silent, serious daughters, and the flowers were an act of resistance...

There is no afterlife for wilted flowers like me.

Don’t waste hate on pink geranium.

I’m an all-the-water-I-can-drink-in-a-flower-vase kind of lover. Roses and batteries sold separately.

The most dangerous flower is one that grows on a grave. Everybody in its vicinity is dead. That’s why I hand-picked it for my mother-in-law.

A twirling flower turns each petal into a fan blade. Who knew a symbol of love could be so breezy?

Yellow flowers are like physical manifestations of sunlight. I’m growing a garden of sunglasses just to help save eyesight and make the world a little bit cooler.

A person who takes a concrete place and convert it into a garden of flowers is a real magician!

Do you see a theme emerging? Women like flowers; men like food!

In most gardens”, the Tiger-lily said, “they make the beds too soft-so that the flowers are always asleep.

I had a dream that Zac Effron showed up at my door shirtless with a bouquet of flowers..yep, I’m still waiting on that one to come true.

Texting and phone calls, fireworks, blends, café au lait, and music. Yesterday’s television. Work and beer. The neighbor’s dog, or those strange flowers, the way it smells at Maisen. Those ordinary things I talk about with you. With you… I want to talk about love with you.

Hyacinth. Please forgive me.

Louis found me in the rear parlor, the one more distant from the noises of the tourists in the Rue Royale, and with its windows open to the courtyard below. I was in fact looking out the window, looking for the cat again, though I didn’t tell myself so, and observing how our bougainvillea had...

It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses.

Our love went from fly to flower to butterfly, and it was meant to beautifully flutter, not sit still on a shelf like a trophy to be collected.

Jacksonville’s official bird is the butterfly. The butterfly is also Jacksonville’s official flower.

You can never forget the past unless you face up to it.

A man should be more original than a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates. Flowers die and sugar sticks to your hips like a permanent record to a criminal.

You want to do something good for the flowers? Then, keep the flowers in the soil, in nowhere else!

They’re straight from the underworld, by the way. They are everlasting. They won’t die.

I came hoping to see those eyes, but instead I return with my heart, leaving behind only flowers.

In love, treat your relationship as if you are growing the most beautiful flower. Keep watering it, tend to its roots, give it lots of sunlight, and always make sure the petals are full of color and are never curling. Once you neglect your plant, it will die, as will your relationship.

How right it is to love flowers and the greenery of pines and ivy and hawthorn hedges; they have been with us from the very beginning.

There is nothing in the world more pathetic than a bunch of wilted dandelions.

You cannot have too many aconites. They cost, as I said before, about fifty shillings a thousand. A thousand will make a brave splash of colour, which lasts a month. If you can afford ten thousand, you are mad not to buy them. There are so many exciting places you can put them. . ....

Gabby, I told you I’d give you space, but I never said I wouldn’t fill your space with flowers. Brad

I love to see the bud bursting into maturity; I love to mark the deepening tints with which the beams of heaven paint the expanded flower; nay, with a melancholy sort of pleasure, I love to watch that progress towards decay, so endearingly bespeaking a fellowship in man’s transient glory

In the garden of my heartFlowers of loves were bloomingNot just to express the beauty But to spread the fragrance Of happiness.

Fireworks are flowers in the garden sky. My love is like New Year’s Eve, only less predictable and more daily.

I would far rather have two or three lilies of the valley gathered for me by a person I like, than the most expensive bouquet that could be bought!

I must hurry back to my house and my flowers in Monaco.

We’re like a gardener with a hose and our attention is water – we can water flowers or we can water weeds.

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...

In the spring and summer I watched my plants flower, but it was, perhaps, in winter that I loved them best, when their skeletons were exposed. Then I felt they had more to say to me, were not simply dressing themselves for the crowds. Stripped of their leaves, their identities showed forth stark, essential.

When considering female human beings, we should ask ourselves what kind of organisms become overjoyed when presented with decapitated plants as gifts? I suppose we should consider ourselves fortunate they do not become overjoyed when presented with decapitated animals as gifts.

The earth laughs in flowers.

I thought he knew me better than most…Then one nigh Jack brought me flowers, a handful of fading daisies he’d picked up at a farm stand, but flowers all the same. That was the end; that was how he ruined everything.

You are the beloved child of this universe, so live as if everything is yours. Every morning the sun is rising for you. The rays of light are kissing you, birds are singing for you, flowers are dancing for you, and everything belongs to you.