We should enjoy this summer, flower by flower, as if it were to be the last one we’ll see.
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves.
Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
So plant your own gardens and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
Sing a song of seasons; something bright in all, flowers in the summer, fires in the fall.
In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.
The Amen of nature is always a flower.
The nature of this flower is to bloom.
Life is the flower for which love is the honey.
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
In summer, the song sings itself.
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.
People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.
To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy, than to attempt to fully understand.
T'is the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone.
All your renown is like the summer flower that blooms and dies; because the sunny glow which brings it forth, soon slays with parching power.
I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand.
'Tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes!
To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
The actual flower is the plant's highest fulfilment, and are not here exclusively for herbaria, county floras and plant geography: they are here first of all for delight.
Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death be like autumn leaves. Rabindranath Tagore What a simple thing death is, just as simple as the falling of an autumn leaf.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.
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