Shepherds know many mysterious languages; they speak the language of sheep and dogs, language of stars and skies, flowers and herbs.
Flowers so strictly belong to youth, that we adult men soon come to feel, that their beautiful generations concern not us: we havehad our day; now let the children have theirs. The flowers jilt us, and we are old bachelors with our ridiculous tenderness.
Art trains the mind through the eye, and the eye through the mind. As the sun colors flowers, so does art color life.
There is a graveyard in my poor heart - dark, heaped-up graves, from which no flowers spring.
You spend Christmas at somebody's house, you worry about their operations, you give them hugs and kisses and flowers, you see them in their dressing gown. . . and then bang, that's it. Gone forever. And sooner or later there will be another mum, another Christmas, more varicose veins. They're all the same. Only the addresses, and the colors of the dressing gown, change.
I didn't even have a portfolio, but I went to Tom Ford the next morning. He said, "I'd love you to come in with me. Get a lawyer. " It was quite exciting, obviously, because it was a complete departure. But mind you, what he was looking for was the exact opposite of what I thought. My first collection for him was Cher-inspired. It was flower trousers, California, hippie cool, all the stuff I did at Oscar. It was making me sick. I wanted to see the other side of the spectrum. Tom was always very secure about the way he did things, so it was quite interesting for me.
There is usually no dreamer so unworldly as the anthologist. He wanders in a vast garden, lost in wonder, unable to decide often between flowers of equal loveliness. . . . The true anthologist has the greatest difficulty in finishing his book. There is always just one more, a new, delicious discovery.
One of the joys our technological civilization has lost is the excitement with which seasonal flowers and fruits were welcomed; the first daffodil, strawberry or cherry are now things of the past, along with their precious moment of arrival. Even the tangerine -- now a satsuma or clementine -- appears de-pipped months before Christmas.
Flowers really do intoxicate me.
As long as the hummingbird had not abandoned the land, somewhere there were still flowers, and they could all go on.
For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, mine heart will not serve now to see thee; for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed.
What did I care about my hammer, about my bolt, about thirst or death? There was, on one star, on one planet, on mine, the Earth, a little prince to be consoled! I took him in my arms. I rocked him. I told him, 'The flower you love is not in danger. . . I'll draw you a muzzle for your sheep. . . I'll draw you a fence for your flower. . . I' I didn't know what to say. How clumsy I felt! I didn't know how to reach him, where to find him. . . It's so mysterious, the land of tears.
We can hold back neither the coming of the flowers nor the downward rush of the stream; sooner or later, everything comes to its fruition.
True humility is a flower which will adorn any garden.
God knows I've done enough crap in my life to grow a few flowers.
The physician. . . is the flower (such as it is) of our civilization.
Things that influence me are my kids, their happiness, colorfulness, and vitality. My husband - he comes up with some great quotes and ideas. God - He is the Ultimate artist. And what I see around me - flowers, leaves, trees, birds, fruit, vegetables.
A root is a flower that disdains fame.
A weed is no more than a flower in disguise.
The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood, the chance of a snake or two, a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind.