#flo

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 draw their life from death of mine, And I will give my body's fire To make blue flowers on this vine. "O Soul," I said, "have you no tears? Was not the body dear to you?" I heard my soul say carelessly, "The myrtle flowers will grow more blue. ↗

— Sara Teasdale

#in-a-burying-ground #life #soul #death

During moments of strife and 'dis-ease', check your flow and redirect your focus to that which is naturally good. ↗

— T.F. Hodge

#disease #flow #good #natural #positivity

But Hazael only said, "I brought you a present." Liraz took the flower, looked at it, and then a Hazael, expressionless. And then she ate it. She chewed the flower and swallowed it. "Hmm," said Hazael. "Not the usual response." "Oh, do you give flowers often?" "Yes," he said. He probably did. Hazael had a way of enjoying life in spite of the many restrictions they lived under, being soldiers, and worse, being Misbegotten. "I hope it wasn't poisonous," he said lightly. Liraz just shrugged. "There are worse ways to die. ↗

— Laini Taylor

#death #flower #hazael #humor #laini-taylor

When we allow the walls around our hearts to become rigid, and stay that way, we assign ourselves a slow death. Like the very air and water that flows through our physical body to sustain it, love must flow through our heart to keep it supple, and to keep us truly alive. ↗

— Jeffrey R. Anderson

#flow-of-love #heart #love #love-sustains #supple

Death doesn't happen instantly. For a little while, you hover around your body, confused. What you want more than anything is to go home, to be safe, to know you're okay. But my life was over. ↗

— Caroline Flohr

#death-and-grief #flohr #flor #grieving #heaven

There Albine lay, panting, exhausted by love, her hands clutched closer and closer to her heart, breathing her last. She parted her lips, seeking the kiss which should obliterate her, and then the hyacinths and tuberoses exhaled their incense, wrapping her in a final sigh, so profound that it drowned the chorus of roses, and in this culminating gasp of blossom, Albine was dead. ↗

— Émile Zola

#flowers #love #death

A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars. ↗

— Victor Hugo

#dreaming #flowers #gardens #les-miserables #thinking

I like the posture, but not the yoga. I like the inebriated morning, but not the opium. I like the flower but not the garden, the moment but not the dream. Quiet, my love. Be still. I am sleeping. ↗

— Roman Payne

#flower #garden #love #moments #morning

Hélène, her eyes once more raised and remote, was deep in a dream. She was Lady Rowena, she was in love, with the deep peaceful passion of a noble soul. This spring morning, the loveliness of the great city, the first wallflowers scenting her lap, had little by little melted her heart. ↗

— Émile Zola

#love #paris #wallflowers #dreams

She was an exotic flower amongst the snowdrifts, out of place, a Technicolor misfit in a monochrome Christmas movie. ↗

— Thomm Quackenbush

#flower #girl #love #romance #tecnhicolor