#flowers

There Albine lay, panting, exhausted by love, her hands clutched closer and closer to her heart, breathing her last. She parted her lips, seeking the kiss which should obliterate her, and then the hyacinths and tuberoses exhaled their incense, wrapping her in a final sigh, so profound that it drowned the chorus of roses, and in this culminating gasp of blossom, Albine was dead. ↗

— Émile Zola

#flowers #love #death

But I've learned that intelligence alone doesn't mean a damned thing. Here in your university, intelligence, education, knowledge, have all become great idols. But I know now there's one thing you've all overlooked: intelligent and education that hasn't been tempered by human affection isn't worth a damn...Intelligence is one of the greatest human gifts. But all too often a search for knowledge drives out the search for love...Intelligence without the ability to give and receive affection leads to mental and moral breakdown, to neurosis, and possibly even psychosis. ↗

— Daniel Keyes

#flowers-for-algernon #intelligence #education

You’re frustrated because you keep waiting for the blooming of flowers of which you have yet to sow the seeds. ↗

— Steve Maraboli

#flowers #frustration #life #seeds #success

Flowers don't tell, they show. That's the way good books should be too."--Stephanie Skeem. Author of Flotsam ↗

— Stephanie Skeem

#faith #flowers #hope #inspirational #love

I felt like that character in Flowers for Algernon. Not Charlie, the lady teacher from the college who realizes, 'I've got to stop dry-humping this mentally challenged guy! ↗

— Tina Fey

#flowers-for-algernon #humor #humor

There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait." She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead, Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red. ↗

— Alfred Tennyson

#love #poetry #life

who knows if the moon's a balloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky--filled with pretty people? ( and if you and I should get into it,if they should take me and take you into their balloon, why then we'd go up higher with all the pretty people than houses and steeples and clouds: go sailing away and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,where always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves ↗

— E.E. Cummings

#balloon #flowers #hot-air-balloon #luna #lunar

How right it is to love flowers and the greenery of pines and ivy and hawthorn hedges; they have been with us from the very beginning. ↗

— Vincent Van Gogh

#van-gogh #love

And now - Plato's words mock me in the shadows on the ledge behind the flames: '...the men of the cave would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes. ↗

— Daniel Keyes

#plato #men

Jeb'd said it was harder for a pretty girl to find work; even white men liked flowers, whether red or pink or blue. ↗

— Shannon Celebi

#abolitionist #flowers #pretty-girl #pretty-girls #race-relations