Best 540 quotes in «flowers quotes» category

A Tennyson garden, heavy with scent, languid; the return of the word swoon.

At least since the Persians and the Egyptians, pleasant floral odors, even below perceptible concentrations, may have encouraged positive moods and socially responsible behaviors among people.

At the edge of the lot, wildflowers had taken over, forming a thick border. I stopped to pick a bouquet of gold buttercups and yellow-and-white oxeye daisies. I plucked a sprig of Queen Anne's lace and watched a black swallowtail butterfly land on a branch of goldenrod. Then I stretched and took a deep breath. The air was mellow and sweet.

A woman's body is a sacred temple. A work of art, and a life-giving vessel. And once she becomes a mother, her body serves as a medicine cabinet for her infant. From her milk she can nourish and heal her own child from a variety of ailments. And though women come in a wide assortment as vast as the many different types of flowers and birds, she is to reflect divinity in her essence, care and wisdom. God created a woman's heart to be a river of love, not to become a killing machine.

Beautiful homes with beautiful flowers

Be a tree of love and let it bloom with flowers of happiness.

Beatrice closed her eyes and dreamed whatever flowers dream. Beatrice: That's very poetic, but they don't dream anything. Flowers have no cerebral cortex.

Because the bag is full of colours - starbursts and wheels and whorls of dazzling brightness that are as fine and complex in their structures as the branch is, only much more symmetrical. Flowers.

Becky was a weed.  Nobody ever wanted them taking over the bigger, prettier plants.  People went to all extremes to make them go away.  They sprayed poison, pulled until the roots gave way. They felt only like their garden was complete when every tendril was extirpated.  This was how she felt from birth.

Before the body softens; and the world of this, nothing shall be taken away. Do not promise to make the richest flowers. More will their love give. Before the clouds move. Before the rivers make waves in the sea, the angels will bless you. Angels that walks in our dreams. On the way to heaven. At the request of the night to hold it. You were one of the choices. That at the request of the day brought from there.

Before they crossed the bridge, they went down to have a look at the chalk stream, which was fringed with reeds, watercress, and yellow flag irises. The water flowing gently over the pebbled bed was gin clear, having been filtered through the Hampshire chalk hills.

Be the celebrators, celebrate! Already there is too much—the flowers have bloomed, the birds are singing, the sun is there in the sky—celebrate it! You are breathing and you are alive and you have consciousness, celebrate it!

Be like a rose; no matter how many thorns you encounter in life, bloom.

Better a crust of black bread than a mountain of paper confections, Better a daisy in earth than a dahlia cut and gathered, Better a cowslip with root than a prize carnation without it

Bosie has insisted on stopping here for sandwiches. He is quite like a narcissus -- so white and gold. I will come either Wednesday or Thursday night to your rooms. Send me a line. Bosie is so tired: he lies like a hyacinth on the sofa, and I worship him. (letter from Oscar Wilde, 1892 - quoted from Love in a dark time by Colm Toibin)

Bougainvillea bloomed on their porch like a discarded prom dress.

But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet ..Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

Broken things are precious. We eat broken bread because we share in the depth of our Lord and His broken life. Broken flowers give perfume. Broken incense is used in adoration. A broken ship saved Paul and many other passengers on their way to Rome. Sometimes the only way the good Lord can get into some hearts is to break them.

But I know Jesus arose. I feel his presence now, here, with me. I see the evidence of his Word everyday. From creation forth, the whole world is witness to God's plan revealed through his Son. From the beginning, he prepared us. In the passing of the seasons; in the way flowers spring forth, die, and drop seeds for life to begin again; in the sunset and sunrise. Jesus' sacrifice is reenacted every day of our lives if we but have the eyes to see.

But neither milk-white rose nor red May bloom in prison air; The shard, the pebble, and the flint, Are what they give us there: For flowers have been known to heal A common man's despair.

By tapping into flowers and their elixirs, we have a method at our fingertips that helps us be our happiest, clearest, and most loving selves. With this book I invite you to catalyze your own personal Flowerevolution and create a worldwide ripple effect of positivity—transforming the world from the inside out.

Certain girls deserve lots of flowers. You are one of them.

Congratulations, everyone," I announce as I open the door to Noam's study. "You've finally broken Meira, the crazy, orphaned soldier-girl. She's snapped, all thanks to the mention of floral arrangements.

Creating a truly memorable event is always a challenge. Whether it’s a wedding reception, tea party, shower or intimate dinner at home with friends: the key to an unforgettable celebration is careful planning and details, details, details!

Daffy bent down suddenly, and picked a small startled white flower. "Anemone," he said, handing it over; he made her repeat the word until she had it right. "Find me a silk to match that.

But how nice it would be to know that some good Yankee woman - And there must be SOME good Yankee women. I don’t care what people say, they can’t all be bad! How nice it would be to know that they pulled weeds off our men’s graves and brought flowers to them, even if they were enemies. If Charlie were dead in the North it would comfort me to know that someone - And I don’t care what you ladies think of me,” her voice broke again, “I will withdraw from both clubs and I’ll — I’ll pull up every weed off every Yankee’s grave I can find and I’ll plant flowers, too — and — I just dare anyone to stop me!

Dark rocks stood waiting to be sculpted by the wind. Tiny seeds rode the air, waiting to fall and take root. Under the sea, corals formed and pearls hardened. Sap rose and juices fed along the vines. White trumpets flowered, and mandarins and lemons shone like drops in fragrant groves.

Do not consider the fault of others Or what they have or haven't done. Consider rather What you yourself have or haven't done.

Don’t bring confusion to my table. Bring flowers. Bring books. Bring cakes. But leave your indecisiveness behind. My heart is not up for breaking (again) and my time is precious. Don’t waste either on murky thoughts and cloudy thinking.

Don't waste hate on pink geranium.

Don't you just love the idea of cooking flowers? I imagine them bursting into bloom, right in the pan.

Down close to certain flowers all excesses are sufficiencies

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

....breakups mean flowers.

Dance with the flowers of enlightenment—then watch as your mind and body blossom as you begin to harvest the fruits of self-progression and self-realization

Dreams are the flowers of imagination which bloom on the fertile grounds of the mind.

Due to their short bloom time, Sakura blossoms are a metaphor for life itself: beautiful yet fleeting. You’ll realize when you’re as old as me to hang on to the good times because they won’t last forever.

During Xtha-cka Zhi-ga The-the, the Killer of Flowers Moon. I will wade across the river of the blackfish, the otter, the beaver. I will climb the bank where the willow never dies.

Dusk had fallen, While the sky was gray, Red flowers bloomed, And the yellow fade away, Night was to fall, But the sun had to stay, Moon of fourteen, For the lover had to pray, Life gave up hope, Yet the heart had to say, Lover wrote a letter, But the pigeon lost it's way.

Dans la cour attenant au triclinium, des musiciens assemblés accordaient des lyres et des flûtes pour accompagner en sourdine les conversations. Des parfums intenses, nés de la nuit chaude, arrivaient par bouffées. Brigitte, assise au pied du lit de l’impératrice Eutropie, s’étonna : — Quel est cet arôme étrange, à la fois si lourd et si doux ? Les narines de Niké palpitèrent pour mieux humer l’air parvenant du jardin : — Je sais ! Il provient d’une fleur en forme d’étoile et que l’on dirait sculptée dans la cire. C’est la fleur d’un arbre fruitier. Elle fleurit sans cesse, d’une lune à l’autre. Sévérien aime beaucoup cet arbre, qu’il a rapporté d’Afrique. Il l’appelle oranger. — La nuit est tout embaumée de son parfum. Il est…, il est inoubliable !

Earlier that morning, Escoffier ad brought up a large bucket of white rose petals, white violets and vanilla orchids that he'd been thinking of creating a dish with. The pâtissier had crystalized some of the flowers, and left him a plate of meringue shells, a handful of vanilla beans and fresh cream. He wanted to create a new dish for Sarah, a sweet, something surprising, something to engage her. She'd been playing Joan of Arc, the virgin saint, a seventeen-year-old girl. It was a role she made famous, difficult at any age, but for a woman in her mid-forties, it was nearly impossible. Escoffier tossed a handful of white rose petals into Rosa's bathwater. The white skin. The white roses. 'The essence of Saint Joan is in shades of white, like shades of innocence.' 'Spun sugar,' he thought. 'Vanilla cream, of course.

Endless love and voluptuous appetite pervaded this stifling nave in which settled the ardent sap of the tropics. Renée was wrapped in the powerful bridals of the earth that gave birth to these dark growths, these colossal stamina; and the acrid birth-throes of this hotbed, of this forest growth, of this mass of vegetation aglow with the entrails that nourished it, surrounded her with disturbing odours. At her feet was the steaming tank, its tepid water thickened by the sap from the floating roots, enveloping her shoulders with a mantle of heavy vapours, forming a mist that warmed her skin like the touch of a hand moist with desire. Overhead she could smell the palm trees, whose tall leaves shook down their aroma. And more than the stifling heat, more than the brilliant light, more than the great dazzling flowers, like faces laughing or grimacing between the leaves, it was the odours that overwhelmed her. An indescribable perfume, potent, exciting, composed of a thousand different perfumes, hung about her; human exudation, the breath of women, the scent of hair; and breezes sweet and swooningly faint were blended with breezes coarse and pestilential, laden with poison. But amid this strange music of odours, the dominant melody that constantly returned, stifling the sweetness of the vanilla and the orchids' pungency, was the penetrating, sensual smell of flesh, the smell of lovemaking escaping in the early morning from the bedroom of newlyweds.

Ephemerals: That's what Hub called them; flowers that bloomed and died in a matter of weeks, before the trees leafed out and shaded them. She liked the way the word sounded in her head. I am an ephemeral. It made her feel like something passing and precious.

Each flower is a secret language. When I wear a combination of flowers together, it's like I'm writing my own secret code that no one else can understand unless they know my language.

Escoffier set the table. He'd found a Japanese kimono, an obvious prop from some theater production, to use as a tablecloth. Paris had secretly fallen in love with all things oriental. It was red silk brocade, covered with a flock of white flying cranes, and made from a single bolt of fabric. The neckline and cuffs were thickly stained with stage makeup but the kimono itself was quite beautiful. It ran the length of the thin table. The arms overhung one end. Outside the building he'd seen a garden with a sign that read "Please do not pick." But it was, after all, for a beautiful woman. Who would deny him? And so Escoffier cut a bouquet of white flowers: roses, peonies and a spray of lilies, with rosemary stalks to provide the greenery. He placed them in a tall water glass and then opened the basket of food he'd brought. He laid out the china plates so that they rested between the cranes, and then the silver knives, forks and spoons, and a single crystal glass for her champagne. Even though it was early afternoon, he'd brought two dozen candles. The food had to be served 'à la française'; there were no waiters to bring course after course. So he kept it simple. Tartlets filled with sweet oysters from Arcachon and Persian caviar, chicken roasted with truffles, a warm baguette, 'pâté de foie gras,' and small sweet strawberries served on a bed of sugared rose petals and candied violets.

Even the faded flower denies nothingness.

Every day, bring some flowers to your life. Every day bring some blessings in someone’s life.

Every flower blooms at its own pace.

Every flower displays its beautiful colours in autumn.

Every flower can flourish with fertile soil and water.