#flower

Gardens and flowers have a way of bringing people together, drawing them from their homes. ↗

— Clare Ansberry

#friendship #gardens #togetherness #faith

It may be that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' but I should be loath to see a rose on a maiden's breast substituted by a flower, however beautiful and fragrant it might be, that is went by the name of the skunk lily. ↗

— Alexander Henry

#beautiful #call #flower #fragrant #however

There's a difference between wanting to be respected and being a strong female and being known for being able to do things, but still very much wanting guys to open the door, wanting them to ask us out, still bringing flowers and stuff like that. ↗

— Jennifer Love Hewitt

#ask #being #between #bringing #difference

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon. ↗

— Jean Ingelow

#looks #many #moon #night #see

...but what they don't understand is that I'm living at a peak of clarity and beauty I never knew existed. Every part of me is attuned to the work. I soak it up into my pores during the day, and at night-in the moments before I pass off to sleep-ideas explode into my head like fireworks. There is no greater joy than the burst of solution to a problem. ↗

— Daniel Keyes

#flowers-for-algernon #beauty

And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see - or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read. ↗

— Alice Walker

#could #creative #flower #grandmothers #handed

Since childhood she had walked the Devon rivers with her father looking for flowers and the nests of birds, passing some rocks and trees as old friends, seeing a Spirit everywhere, gentle in thought to all her eyes beheld. ↗

— Henry Williamson

#birds #childhood #devon #everywhere #eyes

On the porch were the still-smoking remains of long-stemmed roses, evidence that someone angry and passive-aggressive didn't know Peter was out of town. ↗

— Theric Jepson

#anger #byu #dating #flowers #humor

I don’t know if I will have the time to write any more letters, because I might be too busy trying to participate. So, if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school, and you helped me. Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about, or know someone who’s gone through it, you made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don’t happen. And there are people who forget what it’s like to be sixteen when they turn seventeen. I know these will all be stories some day, and our pictures will become old photographs. We all become somebody’s mom or dad. But right now, these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here, and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song, and that drive with the people who you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite. ↗

— Stephen Chbosky

#thoughtful #beauty

What a face this girl possessed!—could I not gaze at it every day I would need to recreate it through painting, sculpture, or fatherhood until a second such face is born. Her face, at once innocent and feral, soft and wild! Her mouth voluptuous. Eyes deep as oceans, her eyes as wide as planets. I likened her to the slender Psyché and judged that the perfection of her face ennobled everything unclean around her: the dusty hems of her bunched-up skirt, the worn straps of her nightshirt; the blackened soles of her tiny bare feet, the coal-stained balcony bricks upon which she sat, and that dusty wrought-ironwork that framed her perch. All this and the pungent air!—almost foul, with so many odors. Ô, that and the spicy night! …Pungency, spice, filth and night, dust and light; all things dark did blossom in sight; flower and bloom, the night has its pearl too—the moon! And once a month it will make the face of this tender girl bloom. ↗

— Roman Payne

#barcelona #beautiful #beauty #cleanliness #dirt