Sultanas Flower Quotes

#1. Past their normal blooming season, the trees had shed many of their blossoms, but the ones that remained were vibrant and showy, like the finale of a fireworks show. Up close, the trees did not disappoint. I stared up in awe at a yellow blossom, touching its petals lightly and breathing in the balmy, lemony scent. #Quote by Sarah Jio

#2. He wears the rose
Of youth upon him. #Quote by William Shakespeare

#3. Fade, flowers, fade! Nature will have it so; 'tis but what we in our autumn do. #Quote by Edmund Waller

#4. When we have been to Holy Communion, the balm of love envelops the soul as the flower envelops the bee. #Quote by John Vianney

#5. Books are meat and medicine
and flame and flight and flower
steel, stitch, cloud and clout,
and drumbeats on the air. #Quote by Gwendolyn Brooks

#6. In some countries Women's Day is a national holiday and men give women flowers. In America Women's Day falls on another holiday, Mardi Gras, where men give women beads in the respectful and post-feminist desire to see their naked boobies. #Quote by Craig Ferguson

#7. If a man is in need of rescue, an airplane can come in and throw flowers on him, and that's just about all. But a direct lift aircraft could come in and save his life. #Quote by Igor Sikorsky

#8. A Night-Blooming Flower, a Tsingano witch-boy, and a ... a Cassaline whatever. This is what Ysandre sends me. I must be mad. #Quote by Jacqueline Carey

#9. I choose art and beauty, vague as those terms are, against ugliness and horrors in which we live today. For somebody to look at a flower or listen to music does something to one, has a positive effect, and being surrounded by ugliness and horror does something negative. So I feel my duty not to betray those poets, scientists, saints, singers, troubadours of the past centuries who did everything that humanity would become more beautiful. I have to continue in my small way their work. #Quote by John Leland

#10. I am not a violent person. I am a product of the Flower Power '60s. I have actually worn bell-bottomed jeans. #Quote by Dave Barry

#11. Goldfish are flowers ... flowers that move. #Quote by Han Suyin

#12. Oh, she say. God loves all them feelings. That's some of the best stuff God did. And when you know God loves 'em you enjoys 'em a lot more. You can just relax, go with everything that's going, and praise God by liking what you like.
God don't think it dirty? I ast.
Naw, she say. God made it. Listen, God love everything you love-- and a mess of stuff you don't. But more than anything else, God love admiration.
You saying God vain? I ast.
Naw, she say. Not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.
What it do when it pissed off? I ast.
Oh, it make something else. People think pleasing God is all God care about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.
Yeah? I say.
Yeah, she say. It always making little surprises and springing them on us when us least expect.
You mean it want to be loved, just like the bible say.
Yes, Celie, she say. Everything want to be loved. Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to git attention we do, except walk?
Well, us talk and talk about God, but I'm still adrift. Trying to chase that old white man out of my head. I been so busy thinking bout him I never truly notice nothing God make. Not a blade of corn (how it do that?) not the color purple (where it come from?). Not the little wildfl #Quote by Alice Walker

#13. Will you put this in my hair? #Quote by Kaori Ozaki

#14. Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud yet guarantee a flower. #Quote by F Scott Fitzgerald

#15. It seems that scientists are often attracted to beautiful theories in the way that insects are attracted to flowers - not by logical deduction, but by something like a sense of smell. #Quote by Steven Weinberg

#16. Truth cannot be changed. When all the flowers of the world are dead, there will still be a true thing that is a flower. #Quote by Clara Winter

#17. Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear? #Quote by Francis Quarles

#18. Gratitude, generosity and humility are inherent characteristics of one who is present. When you awaken, you will realize that everyone and everything has the same right to be here as you do. This includes every human Being, every tree Being, every flower Being, and every other kind of Being. #Quote by Leonard Jacobson

#19. This Flower That Eats Me"

Every poem
sounds the same after a while.
A gentle urge for you to understand
without anybody forcing you to.
Every poem is saying
I love you
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Even when it only says
This flower has bloomed,
this sharp, red flower.
This flower that eats me. #Quote by Emery Allen

#20. Cemeteries in Bohemia are like gardens. The graves are covered with grass and colourful flowers. Modest tombstones are lost in the greenery. When the sun goes down, the cemetery sparkles with tiny candles ... no matter how brutal life becomes, peace always reigns in the cemetery. Even in wartime, even in Hitler's time, even in Stalin's time.. #Quote by Milan Kundera

#21. At the edge of the avalanche
At the glacier's icy rim
Grows the flower of the snowfields
Trembling in the wintry wind.
It dares to live in edges
Where naught else would ever grow.
So fragile, so unlikely
An owl slices through this blow.
She dares the katabats
Her gizzard madly quivers,
But for her dearest of friends
She vows she shall deliver.
Like the lily of the avalanche
The glacier's icy rose
Like a flower of the wind
The bright fierceness in her glows.
The bravest are the small
The weakest are the strong
The most fearful find the courage
To battle what is wrong. #Quote by Kathryn Lasky

#22. Your short understanding, your clipped mind, your hollow heart, will make more of mankind than it has the power to become. Make of a man what you will, yet he cannot be more than this I say to you, with the leave of all pure women: a human is conceived in sin, nourished with impure, unspeakable feculence in the maternal body, born naked and smeared like a beehive; a mass of refuse, a churn of filth, a dish for worms, a stinkhouse, a repulsive washtub, a rancid carcass, a mildewed crate, a bottomless sack, a perforated pocket, a bellows, a rapacious maw, a reeking flagon of urine, a malodorous pail, a deceptive marionette-show, a loamy robber's den, an insatiably slaking trough, a painted delusion. Let recognise who will: every human created to completion has nine holes in his body; out of all these there flows such repellent filth that nothing could be more impure. You would never see human beauty, if you had the eyes of a lynx, and your gaze could penetrate to the innards; you would shudder at the sight. Strip the dressmaker's colouring from the loveliest of ladies, and you will see a shameful puppet, a hastily withering flower, a sparkle of little durance and a soon decomposing clod of earth! Show me a handful of beauty of all the belles who lived a hundred years ago, excluding those painted on the wall, and you shall have the Kaiser's crown! Let love flow away, let grief flow away! Let the Rhine run its course like other waters, you wise lad from Assville! #Quote by Johannes Von Saaz

#23. How are you giving it magic?" he said, through his teeth.

"I already found the path!" I said. "I'm just staying on it. Can't you - feel it?" I asked abruptly, and held my hand cupping the flower out towards him; he frowned and put his hands around it, and then he said, "Vadiya rusha ilikad tuhi," and a second illusion laid itself over mine, two roses in the same space - his, predictably, had three rings of perfect petals, and a delicate fragrance.

"Try and match it," he said absently, his fingers moving slightly, and by lurching steps we brought our illusions closer together until it was nearly impossible to tell them one from another, and then he said, "Ah," suddenly, just as I began to glimpse his spell: almost exactly like that strange clockwork on the middle of his table, all shining moving parts. On an impulse I tried to align our workings: I envisioned his like the water-wheel of a mill, and mine the rushing stream driving it around. "What are you - " he began, and then abruptly we had only a single rose, and it began to grow.

And not only the rose: vines were climbing up the bookshelves in every direction, twining themselves around ancient tomes and reaching out the window; the tall slender columns that made the arch of the doorway were lost among rising birches, spreading out long finger-branches; moss and violets were springing up across the floor, delicate ferns unfurling. Flowers were blooming everywhere: flowers I had never seen, s #Quote by Naomi Novik

#24. The moon is beautiful partly because we cannot reach it, (the sea is impressive because one can never be sure of crossing it safely. Even the pleasure one takes in a flower - and this is true even of a botanist who knows all there is to be known about the flower is dependent partly on the sense of mystery. #Quote by George Orwell

#25. I am an African. I owe my being to the hills and the valleys, the mountains and the glades, the rivers, the deserts, the trees, the flowers, the seas and the ever-changing seasons that define the face of our native land. #Quote by Thabo Mbeki

#26. Like flowers scattered in a storm, a man's life is a long farewell. #Quote by Haruki Murakami

#27. Ye winds ye unseen currents of the air,
Softly ye played a few brief hours ago;
Ye bore the murmuring bee; ye tossed the air
O'er maiden cheeks, that took a fresher glow;
Ye rolled the round white cloud through depths of blue;
Ye shook from shaded flowers the lingering dew;
Before you the catalpa's blossoms flew,
Light blossoms, dropping on the grass like snow. #Quote by William C. Bryant

#28. To shut the door at the end of the workday, which does not spill over into evening. To throw away books after reading them so theydon't have to be dusted. To go through boxes on New Year's Eve and throw out half of what is inside. Sometimes for extravagance to pick a bunch of flowers for the one table. Other women besides me must have this daydream about a carefree life. #Quote by Maxine Hong Kingston

#29. Does the root of a flower influence the flower as something fundamentally different from it? No, surely the root and the flower are one process, and like your head and your feet it all goes together. In that sense then, the universe, and what you or I do, all goes together, and so that picture of the universe is really a picture of you. #Quote by Alan W. Watts

#30. I remember a time when my mind wouldn't have been able to shut down, my cases churning so relentlessly that I could barely see the person standing right in front of me. I remember when it had to be me who solved the case, who figured out the riddle. Now I didn't care who did it, how it came about, just as long as it was over. I'm tired of seeing all the rotten things one person does to another person. Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to open a flower shop. But this is my dream: One day, I leave my job at my office and it doesn't follow me home and haunt me in my sleep. Another dream: I don't live in my brother's basement apartment. After everything I've seen and done and mused about endlessly, I'm convinced of one thing: There's more to life than this, and sometimes when I picture more, it looks like something so simple, like so much less. #Quote by Lisa Lutz

#31. A rose that blooms in the desert has the privilege of being the only flower for miles. #Quote by Matshona Dhliwayo

#32. Blast. This day had not gone as planned. By this time, he was supposed to be well on his way to the Brighton Barracks, preparing to leave for Portugal and rejoin the war. Instead, he was…an earl, suddenly. Stuck at this ruined castle, having pledged to undertake the military equivalent of teaching nursery school. And to make it all worse, he was plagued with lust for a woman he couldn't have. Couldn't even touch, if he ever wanted his command back.
As if he sensed Bram's predicament, Colin started to laugh.
"What's so amusing?"
"Only that you've been played for a greater fool than you realize. Didn't you hear them earlier? This is Spindle Cove, Bram. Spindle. Cove."
"You keep saying that like I should know the name. I don't."
"You really must get around to the clubs. Allow me to enlighten you. Spindle Cove-or Spinster Cove, as we call it-is a seaside holiday village. Good families send their fragile-flower daughters here for the restorative sea air. Or whenever they don't know what else to do with them. My friend. Carstairs sent his sister here last summer, when she grew too fond of the stable boy."
"And so…?"
"And so, your little militia plan? Doomed before it even starts. Families send their daughters and wards here because it's safe. It's safe because there are no men. That's why they call it Spinster Cove."
"There have to be men. There's no such thing as a village with no men."
"Well, there may be a few servants and tradesmen. #Quote by Tessa Dare

#33. The Airstream drives like a couch on a magic carpet; it's #Quote by Jennifer Flower

#34. How to explain to the earth that it was more functional as a vegetable patch than a flower garden, just as factories were more functional than schools and boys were more functional as weapons than as humans. #Quote by Kamila Shamsie

#35. Fig tree, how long it's been full meaning for me, the way you almost entirely omit to flower and into the seasonably-resolute fruit uncelebratedly thrust your purest secret. Like the tube of a fountain, your bent bough drives the sap downwards and up: and it leaps from its sleep, scarce waking, into the joy of its sweetest achievement. #Quote by Rainer Maria Rilke

#36. If you live at the same time as great contemporaries, you become a flower getting rain live. #Quote by Mehmet Murat Ildan

#37. Poem for Liu Ya-tzu I cannot forget how in Canton we drank tea and in Chungking went over our poems when leaves were yellowing. Thirty-one years ago and now we come back at last to the ancient capital Peking. In this season of falling flowers I read your beautiful poems. Be careful not to be torn inside. Open your vision to the world. Don't say that waters of Kumming Lake are too shallow. We can watch fish better here than in the Fuchun River in the south. #Quote by Mao Zedong

#38. I thought, "The flowers, save the flowers ... "
I never thought for a second
we wouldn't save the people #Quote by Andrea Gibson

#39. Will the prized treasures of to-day always be the cheap trifles of the day before? Will rows of our willow-pattern dinner-plates be ranged above the chimneypieces of the great in the years 2000 and odd? Will the white cups with the gold rim and the beautiful gold flower inside (species unknown), that our Sarah Janes now break in sheer light-heartedness of spirit, be carefully mended, and stood upon a bracket, and dusted only by the lady of the house? China #Quote by Jerome K. Jerome

#40. I have lost my dewdrop, cries the flower to the morning sky that lost all its stars #Quote by Rabindranath Tagore

#41. If e'er I win a parting token,
'Tis something that has lost its power
A chain that has been used and broken,
A ruin'd glove, a faded flower;
Something that makes my pleasure less,
Something that means
forgetfulness. #Quote by Nathaniel Parker Willis

#42. How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers #Quote by Matsuo Basho

#43. The country ever has a lagging Spring,
Waiting for May to call its violets forth,
And June its roses-showers and sunshine bring,
Slowly, the deepening verdure o'er the earth;
To put their foliage out, the woods are slack,
And one by one the singing-birds come back.
Within the city's bounds the time of flowers
Comes earlier. Let a mild and sunny day,
Such as full often, for a few bright hours,
Breathes through the sky of March the airs of May,
Shine on our roofs and chase the wintry gloom-
And lo! our borders glow with sudden bloom. #Quote by William C. Bryant

#44. She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age. #Quote by John Dryden