You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Who that has loved knows not the tender tale
Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell?
read more
Who that has loved knows not the tender tale
Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell?
- Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, first Baron Lytton,
I am following Nature without being able to grasp her . . . . I perhaps owe having become a read more
I am following Nature without being able to grasp her . . . . I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer read more
The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow;
But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the first from the clear cold heaven, as falls the
plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland glade and
glen.
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
read more
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close;
Her tears, to the wind-flower,--his blood, to the rose.
Not a flower
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain,
Of his unrivall'd pencil.
Not a flower
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain,
Of his unrivall'd pencil.
I hate flowers -- I paint them because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.
I hate flowers -- I paint them because they're cheaper than models and they don't move.
They know the time to go!
The fairy clocks strike their inaudible hour
In field and woodland, read more
They know the time to go!
The fairy clocks strike their inaudible hour
In field and woodland, and each punctual flower
Bows at the signal an obedient head
And hastens to bed.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
A wedding is just like a funeral except that you get to smell your own flowers.
A wedding is just like a funeral except that you get to smell your own flowers.