When tended the right way, beauty multiplies. — Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
When tended the right way, beauty multiplies. — Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
When tended the right way, beauty multiplies. — Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
When tended the right way, beauty multiplies. — Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
When tended the right way, beauty multiplies. — Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
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When tended the right way, beauty multiplies.

— Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
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More “Flowers” Quotes

But how nice it would be to know that some good Yankee woman - And there must be SOME good Yankee women. I don’t care wh — Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind
The breath of wind that moved them was still chilly on this day in May; the flowers gently resisted, curling up with a k — Irène Némirovsky
Algernon is so smart he has to solve a problem with a lock that changes every time he goes in to eat so he has to lern s — Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon
Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without — Brian Jacques, Taggerung
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,Quite over-canopied with luscious woo — William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
I stopped in front of a florist's window. Behind me, the screeching and throbbing boulevard vanished. Gone, too, were th — Emil Dorian, Quality of Witness: A Romanian Diary, 1937-1944
THE LILIESThis morning it was, on the pavement, When that smell hit me again And set the houses reeling. People passed l — Doris Lessing, Going Home
Daffy bent down suddenly, and picked a small startled white flower. "Anemone," he said, handing it over; he made her rep — Emma Donoghue, Slammerkin
A few blossoms float into the room. They drop like frayed yellow ribbons on the gray carpet. — Eileen Granfors
The garden has wrapped itself in autumn haze. An unusual autumn, lacking that thrill of vegetal warmth when the sap is s — Emil Dorian, Quality of Witness: A Romanian Diary, 1937-1944
Even the faded flower denies nothingness. — Marty Rubin
I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers — Claude Monet