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    Now blooms the lily by the bank,
    The primrose down the brae;
    The hawthorn's budding in the glen,
    The milkwhite is the slae.

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  18  /  29  

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

by Corita Kent Found in: Flowers Quotes,
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  13  /  23  

As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers,
we shall never have a garden without them, both for their read more

As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers,
we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own
sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love
them.

by Henry Ward Beecher Found in: Flowers Quotes,
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  20  /  23  

If we plant a flower or a shrub and water it daily it will grow so tall that in time read more

If we plant a flower or a shrub and water it daily it will grow so tall that in time we shall need a spade and a hoe to uproot it. It is just so, I think, when we commit a fault, however small, each day, and do not cure ourselves of it.

by St. Teresa Of Avila Found in: Flowers Quotes,
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  5  /  20  

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

by Rabindranath Tagore Found in: Flowers Quotes,
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  17  /  25  

Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
read more

Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
Breathing perfumes west and south;
And a sword of flashing lilies,
Holden ready for the fight.

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  41  /  40  

Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers - and never succeeding.

Art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers - and never succeeding.

by Marc Chagall Found in: Flowers Quotes,
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  21  /  22  

Yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where read more

Yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine.
Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true,
And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.

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  15  /  22  

And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.

And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.

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  18  /  25  

Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
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Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close;
Her tears, to the wind-flower,--his blood, to the rose.

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