I've always loved the language of flowers. I discovered Kate Greenaway's 'Language of Flowers' in a used bookstore when I was 16 and couldn't believe it was such a well-kept secret. How could somethin...
From a child, I had an inordinate desire for knowledge and especially music, painting, flowers, and the sciences, Algebra being one of my favorite studies.
Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle.
But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
A few flat clouds folded themselves like crepes over fillings of apricot sky. Pompadours of supper-time smoke billowed from chimneys, separating into girlish pigtails as the breeze combed them out, ab...
An author really ought to have nothing but flowers in the room where he works.
A few blossoms float into the room. They drop like frayed yellow ribbons on the gray carpet.
I must have flowers, always and always.
I was born on a farm. My strength has nothing to do with political apparatus. I get my strength from nature, from flowers.
Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.
For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!
A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers.
Children in a family are like flowers in a bouquet: there's always one determined to face in an opposite direction from the way the arranger desires.
An enemy is like a man's most prized flower. It brings him joy to see it buried in the ground.
The Victorian language of flowers began with the publication of 'Le Language des Fleurs,' written by Charlotte de Latour and printed in Paris in 1819. To create the book - which was a list of flowers...
We are more and more into technology. Everything is texting, and everything is instant. Flowers are completely impractical as a method of communication when you could just send a text.
In a painful time of my life I went often to a wooded hillside where May apples grew by the hundreds, and I thought the sourness of their fruit had a symbolism for me. Instead, I was to find both love...
I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.
Sweet peas were the kind of flowers fairies slept in.
Flowers for me are just things to give to a beatiful woman.