#flower

The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing. ↗

— Dan Simmons

#beauty-in-nature #flowers #summer #sunlight #sunshine

Royal summoned mourners. They came from the village, from the neighboring hills and, wailing like dogs at midnight, laid siege to the house. Old women beat their heads against the walls, moaning men prostrated themselves: it was the art of sorrow, and those who best mimicked grief were much admired. After the funeral everyone went away, satisfied that they'd done a good job. ↗

— Truman Capote

#funeral #grief #house #phonies #satisfaction

Don't wait until people are dead to give them flowers. ↗

— Sean Covey

#flowers #motivational #death

I hear he liked flowers pretty well." "Yes," said Annie, "he said they were the friends who always came back and never disappointed him." --"Out, Brief Candle ↗

— Kurt Vonnegut

#disappointment #flowers #friends #nature #nature

There's nothing quite like the pleasure you get from plants and flower," he said to himself. "They certainly do cheer you up. ↗

— Charmian Hussey

#flowers #nature #plants #pleasure #nature

The earth laughs in flowers. ↗

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

#laughter #laugh

Ah, Evie,” she heard him say softly, “I must have a heart, after all…because right now it aches like the devil.” “Only your heart?” she asked ingenuously, making him laugh. He lowered her to the bed, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “Also a few other things,” he conceded. “And as my wife, it’s your duty to ease all my aches. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#evie #heart #jenner #sebastian #vincent

All around me darkness gathers, Fading is the sun that shone, We must speak of other matters, You can be me when I'm gone Flowers gathered in the morning, Afternoon they blossom on, Still are withered in the evening, You can be me when I'm gone. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#flowers

A weed is but an unloved flower. ↗

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox

#unloved #weed

The rain to the wind said, You push and I'll pelt.' They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged--though not dead. I know how the flowers felt. ↗

— Robert Frost

#rain #flowers