The fact that we’re not lovers makes us more like bees and flowers than rabbits.

Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul into.

Here is a dream-life: A life amongst the flowers!

But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy waysI cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs...

I hear he liked flowers pretty well.””Yes,” said Annie, “he said they were the friends who always came back and never disappointed him.”–“Out, Brief Candle

He told her the flowers in her painting contained exactly the purple substance of the flowers on the desk in front of her […] Let us open the window and see if your painting can...

Hobbies are like flowers on plant. They make the plant look beautiful and feel Proud.

This is the spot where I will lie When life has had enough of me, These are the grasses that will blow Above me like a living sea.These gay old lilies will not shrink To...

Don’t be ashamed to weep; ’tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time,...

I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.

Al cielo non chiedo altro che una casa piena di libri e un giardino pieno di fiori

Moss is selected to be the emblem of maternal love, because, like that love, it glads the heart when the winter of adversity overtakes us, and when summer friends have deserted us.

Through the Mud (from the book Blue Bridge)A line of robots,We approach a wall of mud,Some of us carrying flowers.The others laughBit when we enter that wallIt is the flowersThat will make us an arkTo...

And that reminds me, Mama! I have just intercepted another of that puppy’s floral offerings to my sister. This billet was attached to it.” (Charles)

Flowers are like the sweet babies of the nature; they make us to smile.

And so we are like flowers; and bloom only, when the sun, kisses us.

Men were created before women. … But that doesn’t prove their superiority – rather, it proves ours, for they were born out of the lifeless earth in order that we could be born out of...

Her bedroom window overlooked the garden, and now and then, usually when she was “having a bad spell,” Mr. Helm had seen her stand long hours gazing into the garden, as though what she saw...

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

It is easier to tell a person what life is not, rather than to tell them what it is. A child understands weeds that grow from lack of attention, in a garden. However, it is...

Setenta balcones hay en esta casa, setenta balcones y ninguna flor. ,A sus habitantes, Señor, qué les pasa? ,Odian el perfume, odian el color?La piedra desnuda de tristeza agobia, ¡Dan una tristeza los negros balcones!...

J.C. Flowers is very broadly involved with financial service companies of various types and is an entity with some knowledge of the market.

The ballet is a purely female thing; it is a woman, a garden of beautiful flowers, and man is the gardener.

Lord, make me nowAs happy as the field.With flowers enriched…

The garden has wrapped itself in autumn haze. An unusual autumn, lacking that thrill of vegetal warmth when the sap is still alive and holds up the trees, drunk on solar gold. It is the...

Well, think about it for a minute. A guy tells you that he loves you and then turns around and buys you flowers…or worse, tells you that he loves you with flowers. Cut flowers die....

When weeds go to heaven, I suppose they will be flowers.

I’m on the side of whatever keeps the flowers growing.

Look, hasn’t my body already felt like the body of a flower?

I abhor a hoe. I am fond of flowers but not of dirt, and had rather buy them than cultivate them.

Flowers don’t tell, they show. That’s the way good books should be too.”–Stephanie Skeem. Author of Flotsam

After Nicholas hung up the phone, he watched his mother carry buckets and garden tools across the couch grass toward a bed that would, come spring, be brightly ablaze as tropical coral with colorful arctotis,...

Appear as you areRare and beautiful

I believe in roses. Oh God, yes! I do believe in roses! And I believe in lots and lots and lots of them, too!