Pastoral Resources

All flowers in time bend towards the sun, I know you say there's no one for you, But here is one.

Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul.

If you want to say it with flowers, a single rose says: 'I'm cheap!"

At my age flowers scare me.

A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers.

I like to take pictures of lots of things: people-such as my nephews, my dogs, and just interesting objects that I see. For instance, I might take a picture of flowers by the side of the road, an old sign or a fence.

The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all direction.

I want my flowers while I'm alive.

True glory takes root, and even spreads; all false pretences, like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last long.

Don't send me flowers when I'm dead. If you like me, send them while I'm alive.

Of present fame think little, and of future less; the praises that we receive after we are buried, like the flowers that are strewed over our grave, may be gratifying to the living, but they are nothing to the dead.

Children in a family are like flowers in a bouquet: there's always one determined to face in an opposite direction from the way the arranger desires.

The Herbs ought to be distilled when they are in their greatest vigor, and so ought the Flowers also.

Waters are distilled out of Herbs, Flowers, Fruits, and Roots.

I'm susceptible to that sort of thing - to walls and flowers. You can probably get something more from a wall than a person sometimes. It's just put somewhere.

I sent my flowers across the hall to Mrs Nixon but her husband remembered what a Democrat I am and sent them back.

I don't like painting flowers in my music. I like painting guts and pain.

When I listen to music, I don't want to hear about flowers. I like death and destruction.

Latins are tenderly enthusiastic. In Brazil they throw flowers at you. In Argentina they throw themselves.

Crystals grew inside rock like arithmetic flowers. They lengthened and spread, added plane to plane in an awed and perfect obedience to an absolute geometry that even stones - maybe only the stones - understood.