#flower

There is that in the glance of a flower which may at times control the greatest of creation's braggart lords. ↗

— John Muir

#control #creation #flower #glance #greatest

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity. ↗

— Edvard Munch

#am #body #eternity #flowers #grow

I always figure I have this tree and there's always some green fruit that's not ready to pick or blossoms that are ready to flower; there are always some ready to drop off too. ↗

— Graeme Murphy

#blossoms #drop #figure #flower #fruit

Little deeds are like little seeds, they grow to flowers or to weeds. ↗

— Daniel D. Palmer

#flowers #grow #like #little #seeds

When I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat. ↗

— Gwyneth Paltrow

#flowering #garden #heart #i #pass

I'm not a wilting flower. I'm honest, so I pick a lot of fights. I've burned a lot of bridges. ↗

— Scott Thompson

#burned #fights #flower #honest #i

There are souls which fall from heaven like flowers, but ere they bloom are crushed under the foul tread of some brutal hoof. ↗

— Jean Paul

#brutal #crushed #ere #fall #flowers

Since she got a cause and stopped being funny. I think she's real funny, but lately it's all been hearts and flowers and tears and saving teenagers and creating a role model. And that ain't funny. No giggles there. ↗

— Andy Richter

#being #being funny #cause #creating #flowers

With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy. ↗

— Lope de Vega

#dozen #envy #few #flowers #garden

An Evening Air I go out in the grey evening In the air the odor of flowers and the sounds of lamentation. I go out into the hard loneliness of the barren field of grey evening In the air the odor of flowers and the sounds of lamentation. In the gathering darkness a long, swift train suddenly Passes me like a lighting. Hard and ponderous and loud are the wheels. As ponderous as the darkness, and as beautiful. I look on, enchanted, and listen to the sounds of lamentation In the soft fragrant air. The long rails, grey-dark, smooth as a serpent, shiver, and A soft, low thing cries out in the distance, But the sounds are hard and heavy, In the air the odor of flowers and the sounds of lamentation. ↗

— Samar Sen

#flowers #night #beauty