Top 67 Quotes About White Flowers
#1. The candle-buds opened their wide white flowers ... Their scent spilled out into the air and took possession of the island.
William Golding
#2. Death which is the mother of the universe! - Now wear your nakedness forever, white flowers in your hair, your marriage sealed behind the sky - no revolution might destroy that maidenhood
Allen Ginsberg
#3. Tiny white flowers sprinkled the upper part of the gown like glimpses of stars at dusk, while the gathered waist and skirt darkened into solid twilight.
Suzanne Enoch
#4. Once a woman told me that colored flowers would seem more bright if you added a few white flowers to give the colors definition. Every petal of blue lupin is edged with white, so that a field of lupins is more blue than you can imagine.
John Steinbeck
#5. And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers - shriveled now, and brown and flat and brittle - to witness that even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of men.
H.G.Wells
#6. It was strange to be outside on a summer's evening. Rachel breathed in the scent of the delicate white flowers on the star jasmine and looked up at the sky. She saw what at first she thought was a bird, then realised it was a bat, and beyond that, in the sky, she saw thousands of stars.
Mary Grand
#7. Small white flowers lay at the foot of her cot, and many infant-sized footprints led in and out of the tent.
Sarah J. Maas
#8. Wherever her feet pass, white flowers part the grass.
L.J.Smith
#9. I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The violets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs, where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburmum on his birthday,-
The tree is living yet.
Thomas Hood
#10. Through the open door A drowsy smell of flowers -grey heliotrope And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette Comes fairly in, and silent chorus leads To the pervading symphony of Peace.
John Greenleaf Whittier
#11. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein
#12. When the young woman
leans over the sky,
about to water the flowers as well as the weeds,
her white front splits open
until her milk runs.
Gunter Grass
#13. Hawthorn, white and odorous with blossom, framing the quiet fields, and swaying flowers and grasses, and the hum of bees.
F. S Flint
#14. Each moment you are alive is a gem, shining through and containing earth and sky, water and clouds. It needs you to breathe gently for the miracles to be displayed. Suddenly you hear the birds singing, the pines chanting, see the flowers blooming, the blue sky, the white clouds ...
Thich Nhat Hanh
#15. There is no such thing as a Flower Police, so please feel free to experiment. Or stick with one type of flower; for instance, do bunches of white tulips or a mix of flowers that are all yellow in color. Just because it's simple doesn't mean it can't be dramatic!
Clinton Smith
#16. In November, the earth is growing quiet. It is making its bed, a winter bed for flowers and small creatures. The bed is white and silent, and much life can hide beneath its blankets.
Cynthia Rylant
#17. She looked at her roses. They were white, some incurved and holy, others expanded in an ecstacy. The tree was dark as a shadow. She lifted her hand impulsively to the flowers; she went forward and touched them in worship.
D.H. Lawrence
#18. It was a long winter of deep snow, solitude, and madness. The satellite kept feeding me digital news of summer in other places. I had to come down from the White Mountain, down into the valley where flowers bloomed, where trees grew new leaves, and hot pants were on!
Robert Earl Wildwood
#19. You can paint it white and braid its mane, but at the end of the day, you can't turn an ass into a unicorn, no matter how much glitter and flowers you sprinkle on it.
Nicole Williams
#20. FYI, car crashes kill way more kids than cancer does. Those crosses you see on the side of the highway, the little white ones hung with fading silk flowers? They're for people my age. ("People who were texting," my dad liked to remind me - because he never wanted to blame Budweiser for anything.)
James Patterson
#21. Inside plum trees stood in a row, flowers lifted their pale throats to the moon and stars, a magnolia held its tight-closed buds like white candles in its green hands.
Marisa De Los Santos
#22. In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee;
Fairies use flower for their charactery.
William Shakespeare
#23. Key West is the place where your sickly house plant back in New York grows to 10 ft. It's also the place where an 8-ft. cactus, the century plant, produces a huge yellow flower every great once in a while, like a robot proffering a bouquet. After the plant flowers, it dies.
Edmund White
#24. The skins matched all the tones of chocolate, coffee and wood. There were many white suits and dresses, and many of those flowered dresses which in the realm of printed dresses stand in the same relation as the old paintings of flowers and fruit done by maiden aunts to a Matisse, or a Braque.
Anais Nin
#25. Daffy bent down suddenly, and picked a small startled white flower. "Anemone," he said, handing it over; he made her repeat the word until she had it right. "Find me a silk to match that.
Emma Donoghue
#26. Isn't that what love means, to fill ordinary, commonplace, conventional things with magic and significance, not to need the moon and white scent-heavy flowers at night?
Elizabeth Bibesco
#27. I think people should get married at the courthouse without a single person present and no fanfare whatsoever. Then, if the couple makes it to ten years, they should have a big party. The whole shebang, white dress, flowers, cake of their dreams. After ten years they'd deserve it.
Ann Wertz Garvin
#28. Jeb'd said it was harder for a pretty girl to find work; even white men liked flowers, whether red or pink or blue.
Shannon Celebi
#29. There were nearly as many frogs in the shallows, where lily pads floated. Some water lily flowers were white and some were yellow and some were the palest pink. Dragonflies darted above the water, their iridescent wings catching the glint of the sunlight.
Alice Hoffman
#31. Loveliest of any blossoming thing to her was that green stalk with its white bells. White was the most beautiful color she knew. Yet when she would say that to Amos he would remind her that the brown of the earth from which the flowers came was a good color too.
Elizabeth Yates
#32. Someone who has seen a house collapse knows only too clearly what frail things little vases of flowers and pictures and white walls are. He knows only too well what a house is made of.
Natalia Ginzburg
#33. Spirit is a land of high white peaks and glittering jewel-like lakes and flowers. Life is sparse and sounds travel great distances.
Dalai Lama
#34. He moved to sniff some white-and-yellow flowers.
A nightmare. This was a nightmare. "You can't really like flowers."
Again those dark eyes shifted to her. Blinked once.
I most certainly do, he seemed to say.
Sarah J. Maas
#35. Ah, Lalage! while life is ours,
Hoard not thy beauty rose and white,
But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers
That deck our little path of light:
For all too soon we twain shall tread
The bitter pastures of the dead:
Estranged, sad spectres of the night.
Ernest Dowson
#36. Gaea?" Leo shook his head. "Isn't that Mother Nature? She's supposed to have, like, flowers in her hair and birds singing around her and dear and rabbits doing her laundry."
"Leo, that's Snow White," Piper said.
Rick Riordan
#37. The forties and fifties were years of high poet-incense; the language-flowers were thickly sweet. Those flowers whined and begged white folks to pick them, to find them lovable. Then the '60s: Independent fire!
Gwendolyn Brooks
#38. When I shared a room with my sister Trisha, we drew a line down the middle. She had Laura Ashley stuff with flowers everywhere, and her whole side of the room was white, while my side of the room was painted, freaky and covered with stuff.
Melissa Joan Hart
#39. The pretty blue flowers around the edge of the white plate seemed too joyful to be packed away.
E.M. McCarthy
#40. The Darkness of the black night is commencing over the white wobbling flowers at the bay of the stream whose water is sparkling and is running down from those earthly mountains to surrender into your arms full of happiness and love ...
It cherishes your existence and so do i do ...
AashiQi
#41. In my dreams and visions, I seemed to see a line, and on the other side of that line were green fields, and lovely flowers, and beautiful white ladies, who stretched out their arms to me over the line, but I couldn't reach them no-how. I always fell before I got to the line.
Harriet Tubman
#42. The music, and the banquet, and the wine
The garlands, the rose odors, and the flowers, The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments
The white arms and the raven hair
the braids, And bracelets; swan-like bosoms, and the necklace, An India in itself, yet dazzling not.
Lord Byron
#43. We settled Mama into the wheelchair and loaded her down with both our pocketbooks and a vase of flowers I had picked to present to our host in hopes of softening the effects of any opinions Mama might vent during the evening.
Bailey White
#44. My own funeral, I'd like to be laid out in a coffin in my own house. I would like my coffin to be put in the double parlor, and I would like all the flowers to be white.
Anne Rice
#45. In my mind, I see a line. And over that line, I see green fields and lovely flowers and beautiful white women with their arms stretched out to me over that line, but I can't seem to get there no-how. I can't seem to get over that line.
Harriet Tubman
#46. To a lesser extent (they like) the whites and reds, but blues, yellows and oranges are the main bee flowers. Although there are very good white bee flowers - white sweet clover is the best honey plant in the world.
Chip Taylor
#47. You stink like a faerie, all flowers and sunshine and evil manipulation.
Kiersten White
#48. In a corner of the churchyard grew a plantation of white violets, enormously plump and prosperous-looking ... I saw the dead stretched out under me in the earth, feeding these flowers with a thin milk drawn from their bones.
Rosamond Lehmann
#50. Bees see colors in the ultraviolet range that humans cannot. Some flowers have colored maps like little runways to show the bees where to land. Humans are blind to these special markings, but the bees see them. - NED BLOODWORTH'S BEEKEEPER'S JOURNAL
Karen White
#51. If you ever try to change my memories again, I will slap you into next spring." I took a breath, knees shaking as I felt small beside him, my white dress brushing against his black trousers. Some women get flowers or poems from their suitors. I get insults and threats.
Dawn Cook
#52. In Heaven's happy bowers
There blossom two flowers,
One with fiery glow
And one as white as snow;
While lo! before them stands,
With pale and trembling hands,
A spirit who must choose
One, and one refuse.
Richard Watson Gilder
#53. The autumn breeze rises on the shore at Fukiage- and those white chrysanthemums are they flowers? or not? or only breakers on the beach?
Sugawara No Michizane
#54. The chalks and slates fascinated them. They yearned to hold the white sticks in their hands, make little white squiggles like the other children, draw pictures of huts, cows, goats, and flowers. It was like magic, to make things appear out of nowhere.
Rohinton Mistry
#55. I don't trust the answers or the people who give me the answers. I believe in dirt and bone and flowers and fresh pasta and salsa cruda and red wine. I don't believe in white wine; I insist on color.
Charles Bowden
#56. Everything that is dead quivers. Not only the things of poetry, stars, moon, wood, flowers, but even a white trouser button glittering out of a puddle in the street ... Everything has a secret soul, which is silent more often than it speaks.
Wassily Kandinsky
#57. Tis like the birthday of the world,
When earth was born in bloom;
The light is made of many dyes,
The air is all perfume:
There's crimson buds, and white and blue,
The very rainbow showers
Have turned to blossoms where they fell,
And sown the earth with flowers.
Thomas Hood
#58. But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison air;
The shard, the pebble, and the flint,
Are what they give us there:
For flowers have been known to heal
A common man's despair.
Oscar Wilde
#59. She stepped inside, into warmth and white marble veined with gray, into the strangely spicy scent of whatever the masses of bold flowers cast off from their silver urn on the central table.
J.D. Robb
#60. Such a beautiful smile! It is like spring flowers in the deadness of a white winter.
Debasish Mridha
#61. On a table behind the dowager stood a vase containing three white lilies. The flowers were large and fleshy white, like little animals from an alien land that were deep in meditation.
Haruki Murakami
#62. And I came back and it was great, 'cuz George had set up all these flowers all over the studio saying welcome home. So then we got it together again. I always felt it was better on the White one for me. We were more like a band, you know.
Ringo Starr
#63. As little flowers, which the chill of night has bent and huddled, when the white sun strikes, grow straight and open fully on their stems, so did I, too, with my exhausted force.
Dante Alighieri
#64. Nancy taught two hens to help her sort flowers to make leis. She set them down by a basket of three colors of plastic flowers. One hen quickly pulled out all the red flowers, and another the white ones, leaving the pink flowers in the basket.
Karen Pryor
#65. In the dark of the trees he could smell splintered wood and see white upturned faces like wide white dirty flowers.
Michael Shaara
#66. Morning exercise, walking in the free, invigorating air of heaven, or cultivating flowers, small fruits, and vegetables, is the surest safeguard against colds, coughs, congestion of the brain, inflammation of the liver, the kidneys, and the lungs, and a hundred other diseases.
Ellen G. White
#67. Hail Ostara, white-clad maiden. Snow and ice melt at your gaze, flowers bloom with each soft step. We who late have longed for spring-time, we welcome you at winter's end. I praise you now, O bright Ostara: Earth's cold cover send from here!
Hester Butler-Ehle
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