Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume read more

Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.

Who that has loved knows not the tender tale
Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell?
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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,

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.

The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks,
Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks,
Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

Flowers are words
Which even a babe may understand.

Flowers are words
Which even a babe may understand.

Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
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Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
Breathing perfumes west and south;
And a sword of flashing lilies,
Holden ready for the fight.

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime rot and consume themselves in little time.

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime rot and consume themselves in little time.

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.

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.