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quotes by topic flowers

" For millions of years flowers have been producing thorns. For millions of years sheep have been eating them all the same. And it's not serious, trying to understand why flowers go to such trouble to produce thorns that are good for nothing? It's not important, the war between the sheep and the flowers? It's no more serious and more important than the numbers that fat red gentleman is adding up? Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, without even realizing what he'd doing - that isn't important? If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself 'My flower's up there somewhere...' But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn't important? "

Antoine De Saint-Exupéry

Importance , flowers

" She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her... I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her... "

Antoine De Saint-Exupéry

Love , flowers

" The fact is that I did not know how to understand anything! I ought to have judged by deeds and not by words. She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her . . . I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her . . . "

Antoine De Saint-Exupéry

Love , flowers

" Flowers are so inconsistent! "

Antoine De Saint-Exupéry

flowers

" How right it is to love flowers and the greenery of pines and ivy and hawthorn hedges "

Vincent Van Gogh

flowers

" And how do you know that these fine begonias are not of equal importance? "

Agatha Christie

flowers

" 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, above the slate rooftops. Chestnut blossoms, weary from having been admired all day, wore faint smiles of anticipation. "

flowers

" A Tennyson garden, heavy with scent, languid; the return of the word swoon. "

Margaret Atwood

Garden , flowers