It gives one a sudden start in going down a barren stoney street to see upon a narrow strip of grass just within the iron fence the radiant dandelion shining in the grass like a spark dropped from the sun.
Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom the moon only when it is cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain to lower the blinds and be unaware of the passing of the spring – these are even more deeply moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with flowers are worthier of our admiration.
When at last I took the time to look into the heart of a flower it opened up a whole new world; a world where every country walk would be an adventure where every garden would become an enchanted one.
The same stream of life that runs through the world runs through my veins night and day in rhythmic measure. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless waves of flowers.
To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy than to attempt to fully understand.
Even though flowers fall dont regret it. Even though weeds grow dont hate them. Dont arouse the passions of attraction and repulsion hating and loving. If only we dont arouse the passions the falling of flowers and the growing of weeds as they are is manifest absolute reality.
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they toil not neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the field which to day is and to morrow is cast into the oven shall he not much more clothe you O ye of little faith?
If you want to say it with flowers a single rose says : Im cheap!
I sometimes think that never blows so red The rose as where some buried Caesar bled.
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles today tomorrow will be dying.
Yet Ah that Spring should vanish with the Rose. That Youths sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang Ah
Every friend is to the other a sun and a sunflower also. He attracts and follows.
Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.
My life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky But ere the shades of evening close Is scattered on the groundto die.
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high oer vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils.
To create a little flower is the labor of ages.
Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul to.
It gives one a sudden start in going down a barren stoney street to see upon a narrow strip of grass just within the iron fence the radiant dandelion shining in the grass like a spark dropped from the sun.
It is only when we are aware of the earth and of the earth as poetry that we truly live.
Any nose May ravage with impunity a rose.
Bloom where you are planted.
Even on the road to hell flowers can make you smile.
Earth laughs in flowers …
Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.
He is happiest who hath power to gather wisdom from a flower.
Love not the flower they pluck and know it not And all their botany is Latin names.
Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom the moon only when it is cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain to lower the blinds and be unaware of the passing of the spring – these are even more deeply moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with flowers are worthier of our admiration.
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers Is always the first to be touchd by the thorns.
For man as for flower and beast and bird the supreme triumph is to be most vividly most perfectly alive.
This very moment is a seed from which the flowers of tomorrows happiness grow.
People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.
Each flower is a soul opening out to nature.
Why is it no one ever sent me yet One perfect limousine do you suppose? Ah no its always just my luck to get One perfect rose.
No pain no palm; no thorns no throne; no gall no glory; no cross no crown.
All gardening is landscape painting.
When at last I took the time to look into the heart of a flower it opened up a whole new world; a world where every country walk would be an adventure where every garden would become an enchanted one.
Madame that is by far the ugliest nose I have ever seen and I compliment you on it it suits you!
Whats in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet;
Break open A cherry tree And there are no flowers But the spring breeze Brings forth myriad blossoms.
The same stream of life that runs through the world runs through my veins night and day in rhythmic measure. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless waves of flowers.
Correct handling of flowers refines the personality.
The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love they will bloom like flowers.
One of the most attractive things about the flowers is their beautiful reserve.
To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy than to attempt to fully understand.
A fox is a wolf who sends flowers.
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
Even though flowers fall dont regret it. Even though weeds grow dont hate them. Dont arouse the passions of attraction and repulsion hating and loving. If only we dont arouse the passions the falling of flowers and the growing of weeds as they are is manifest absolute reality.
All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today and yesterday.
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they toil not neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the field which to day is and to morrow is cast into the oven shall he not much more clothe you O ye of little faith?