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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.
Flowers are Love's truest language; they betray,
Like the divining rods of Magi old,
Where precious wealth read more
Flowers are Love's truest language; they betray,
Like the divining rods of Magi old,
Where precious wealth lies buried, not of gold,
But love--strong love, that never can decay!
The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.
The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.
Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.
Every flower is a soul blossoming in Nature.
Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is read more
Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth, that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
I know not which I love the most,
Nor which the comeliest shows,
The timid, bashful violet
read more
I know not which I love the most,
Nor which the comeliest shows,
The timid, bashful violet
Or the royal-hearted rose:
The pansy in purple dress,
The pink with cheek of red,
Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs,
Like a bashful maid her head.
Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men and
animals. Some seem to smile; some have a read more
Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men and
animals. Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some
are pensive and diffident; others again are plain, honest and
upright, like the broad-faced sunflower and the hollyhock.
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then read more
Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.
Beauty, unaccompanied by virtue, is as a flower without perfume.