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Tag Name "Flower" (2175)

Page 9 of 91
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
William Shakespeare
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Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
William Shakespeare
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The plants look up to heaven, from whence they have their nourishment.
William Shakespeare
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Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
William Shakespeare
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What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
William Shakespeare
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Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.
William Shakespeare
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You'd be so lean, that blast of January Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might Become your time of day.
William Shakespeare
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Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
William Shakespeare
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Ah me! what wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes in our hearts once more The rose of youth restore? What craft of alchemy can bid defiance To time and change, and for a single hour Renew this phantom-flower?
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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To have Zen is to be in a state of pure sensation. It is to be freed from the grip of concepts, to see through them. This is not the same as rejecting conceptual thinking. Thoughts and words are in the world and are as natural as flowers. It is a mistake therefore to think that Zen is anti-intellectual.
Alan Keightley
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Some people worry that artificial intelligence will make us feel inferior, but then, anybody in his right mind should have an inferiority complex every time he looks at a flower.
Alan Kay
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The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
William Shakespeare
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Wherever God has planted you, you must know how to flower - translated from a French saying
Alan Furst
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Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
William Shakespeare
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Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors, Which some call nature's bastards.
William Shakespeare
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Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.
William Shakespeare
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Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
William Shakespeare
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Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But bad mortality o'ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
William Shakespeare
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Here's flowers for you Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
William Shakespeare
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
William Shakespeare
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Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
William Shakespeare
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He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
William Shakespeare
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Future's the only flower worth tending in this earth, where I sow my words daily: and you know, these good trees bear fruit round the year, discreetly, moving along the waterways and four seasons of the faithful sun.
Alamgir Hashmi
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The perfume of the flowers and of the bay tree are wafted on high, like incense. The birds sing sweet songs of praise to their Creator. In the tops of the trees, the soughing of the wind is like the hushed prayers of the multitude in some vast cathedral. Here the heart of man becomes impressionable.
William Wendt
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