742 Quotes About Flowers

Street children are lovely blossoms just dropped from the tree after a heavy storm. Now they need to be put together with a needle and threads of security and shelter to live into a beautiful circle of life’s garland

As soon as I turned the key I saw it hanging, the color of fire and sunset. the colour of flamboyant flowers. ‘If you are buried under a flamboyant tree, ‘ I said, ‘your soul is lifted up when it flowers. Everyone wants that.’She shook her head but she did not move or touch me.

And we will lie down on the ground and have conversations with the grasses and the flowers.

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, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us.

Oh my darling petaled one,dream once again of the brightened sun.Lift your arms up light and high,reach with all you are for the sky.For the dream of your life is not over yet.It will not end 'till this sun has set.Breathe and sway in the breeze, darling one.Life fill your veins with the light of the sun.

Living things don't all requirelight in the same degree. Some of usmake our own light: a silver leaflike a path no one can use, a shallowlake of silver in the darkness under the great maples.But you know this already.You and the others who thinkyou live for truth and, by extension, loveall that is cold.

Lodged"The rain to the wind said,'You push and I'll pelt.'They so smote the garden bed.That the flowers actually knelt,And lay lodged -- though not dead.I know how the flowers felt.

No one’s ever brought me flowers before,” said Mr. Kidswatter. “You may not believe this, Louis, but I don’t have many friends.” He put his hand on Louis’s shoulder. “You’re like a son to me,” he said.“And you’re a maggot-infested string bean,” muttered Louis.“What?” asked Mr. K.“I said, you’re a magnificent human being.

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.