Things bloosom in their time. They bud and bloom, blossom and fade. Everything in its time.
A bud is a flower-to-be. A flower in waiting. Waiting for just the right warmth and care to open up. It's a little fist of love waiting to unfold and be seen by the world. And that's you.
Don't try to force anything. Let life be a deep let-go. God opens millions of flowers everyday without forcing their buds
It takes courage to push yourself to places you have never been before... to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to stay tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
Never yet was a springtime, when the buds forgot to bloom.
I think of the flower in the bud: huddled, compressed, dark. Yet somehow it feels the night, knows moon from sun. It waits...waits.
Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
The bud of victory is always in the truth.
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
A word is a bud attempting to become a twig. How can one not dream while writing? It is the pen which dreams. The blank page gives the right to dream.
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
Each one of us has it in themselves to be a free spirit, just as every rose bud has in it a rose.
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
You have first an instinct, then an opinion, then a knowledge, as the plant has root, bud, and fruit.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
A rhododendron bud lavender-tipped. Soon a glory of blooms to clash with the cardinals and gladden the hummingbirds!
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
And loathsome canker lies in sweetest bud.
All men make faults.
But we have only begun to love the earth. We have only begun to imagine the fullness of life. How could we tire of hope?-so much is in bud.
Nip the shoots of arbitrary power in the bud, is the only maxim which can ever preserve the liberties of any people.
Bud Powell's probably the biggest influence on my piano playing.
Mr Speaker, I smell a rat; I see him forming in the air and darkening the sky; but I will nip him in the bud.
I was also lucky to play for an owner, Bud Selig, who truly cared about his players. He'd call me into his office once in a while when he knew things weren't going so well. And it's funny. Every time I left there I always felt like something good was about to happen.
Bud Johnson, God rest his soul of fame, a tenor saxophonist. Bud was always a big, big, big booster of mine and he always when I first met Bud in Pittsburgh when he came through there, he heard me sing and he wanted me to come to Chicago.
I have always loved marijuana. It has been a source of joy and comfort to me for many years. And I still think of it as a basic staple of life, along with beer and ice and grapefruits - and millions of Americans agree with me.
It's the relationships between people that are more important than the sort of far away fantasies of what the good life is, the world of supermodels and Bud ads.
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