Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
The soul has words as petals.
The Petal table is a flower that is always in bloom.
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
If you gave me a fresh carnation, I would only crush its tender petals.
When the petals of the heart unfold, fragrance spreads across the valley.
You cannot show people only the petals and not the thorns. It's not fair to them.
You cannot disturb the tiniest petal of a flower without the troubling of a distant star.
Friendship is like a rose. . . opening one petal at a time, only as it unfolds. . . day by day it reveals its true beauty.
What is so marvelous about living today is that it is possible to extend, like a flower, spreading petals in all directions.
It's quite amazing what 3D is doing to movies. Just simple things like a paper plane flying at you or flower petals fluttering about are wonderful.
You must be a lotus, unfolding its petals when the sun rises in the sky, unaffected by the slush where it is born or even the water which sustains it!
At primary school, we would pick up plastic petals on the way home to make flowers. Now you might call it child labour, but we did it for pocket money.
Some people are near- or farsighted - I'm thorn-sighted. The thorns on the rose are in really sharp definition for me, the rose petals a little fuzzier.
Back in the day, when a man in a wig had to 'lip sync for their life,' they relied on a wig reveal, rose petals or picking up their opponent and twirling them around.
Don't throw petals on the floor if they have no meaning. I would rather have a fun, casual relationship than have someone pretending they're completely in love with me.
I've been led by my nose all my life and tried to make perfume by boiling sugar water in jam jars and stuffing them full of gardenia and rose petals when I was growing up in Swaziland.
I admit it, I do like pickled red onion. I made some the other day. You just slice up the onion, pull it apart and you get these petals and you make a pickling liquid, I make mine sweet and sour.
Do not waste time dreaming of great faraway opportunities; do the best you can where you are. Open your petals of power and beauty and fling out the fragrance of your life in the place that has been assigned to you.
Possession of the pure synthetic specimens of the anthocyanidins and chief anthocyanins enabled my wife and me to devise quick tests for these colouring matters which can be used with the material from a few flower petals.
You know, maybe I was just born in the wrong time, but I love all things romantic. Puffy understands that. For my last birthday, he covered my hotel room floor with rose petals and had flowers and candles all over the room.
We exalted that Michael Phelps-consecrated water. Rose petals were strewn in Peyton Manning's path when he retired. But hey, that's natural. As we should, we admire those in any craft, no less so in sports, who appear out of nowhere to achieve remarkable feats.
I once took the key off my girlfriend's key ring so that I could surprise her when she got home. So I did this whole romantic setup in our bedroom with flowers and rose petals. She was so mad when she got home, but then when she walked in, she was so surprised.
So much is made about the beginnings of ballet careers, the rosebud, and then once the petals and leaves start falling off, is it beautiful anymore? Some people think it is; some people don't. The expectation is to focus on the very beautiful parts, not the ending.
I will say to all the fellas out there that, seriously, I am a setup. I'm just like rose petals. I'm like incense. I'm a background thing for you when you do your thing with your lady. I'm a friend, only assisting you in your lurve machinations. So have no fear of me, people.
The deadnettle is the Punxsutawney Phil of the plant world: short of stature but stout of heart. At the first hint of winter's wane, its stem rises from the ground, and a green, grasping hand of sepals unclenches to divulge two silky-white petals, one of which unfurls straight up toward the sky.
The gay bunting erects his white crest, and gives utterance to the joy he feels in the presence of his brooding mate; the willow grouse on the rock crows his challenge aloud; each floweret, chilled by the night air, expands its pure petals; the gentle breeze shakes from the blades of grass the heavy dewdrops.
I don't care what town you're born in, what city, what country. If you're a child, you are curious about your environment. You're overturning rocks. You're plucking leaves off of trees and petals off of flowers, looking inside, and you're doing things that create disorder in the lives of the adults around you.
Can anything be more grotesque and barbarous than our 'florists' bouquets,' a series of concentric rings of flowers of divers colours, bordered by maidenhair and a piece of stiff lace paper, in which stems, leaves, and even petals are brutally crushed, and the grace and individuality of each flower systematically destroyed?
Sometimes a game comes at just the right moment in your life. 'Flower' is beautiful, serene, and a bit of sunshine in a gloomy world. I remember going through a rough spot in my life and turning on 'Flower' for a little break in the day. You fly through luscious landscapes collecting petals and painting the world with life.
To hold happiness is to hold the understanding that the world passes away from us, that the petals fall and the beloved dies. No amount of mockery, no amount of fashionable scowling will keep any of us from knowing and savoring the pleasure of the sun on our faces or save us from the adult understanding that it cannot last forever.