Daffodils And Spring Flowers Quotes & Sayings

What was scattered, gathers.
What was gathered, blows away — Heraclitus

One may say the eternal mystery of the world is its comprehensibility. — Albert Einstein

There are many ways to rule, many things required to be un hombre or to be una mujere, for each person can decide for himself. Sometimes you can even be both. Without having to choose one or the other — Mayra Santos-Febres

For the children with their greedy little mouths represent the future, which like time itself will devour all now alive. — Margaret Atwood

Daffodils are yellow trumpets of spring — Richard L. Ratliff

Fashion is custom in the guise of departure from custom — Edward Sapir

In the forest, in the forest, silence had cast a spell over all things. She plucked a great bouquet of daffodils and snowdrops, and tenderly held them to her, and tenderly kissed their fresh spring faces. She did not sing at all, but sat silent, expectant, and wondering, till her flowers faded and withered in her hands. — Katherine Mansfield

All the charm of the angler's life would be lost but for these hours of thought and memory. All along the brook, all day on lake or river, while he takes his sport, he thinks. All the long evenings in camp, or cottage, or inn, he tells stories of his own life, hears stories of his friend's lives, and if alone calls up the magic of memory. — William Cowper Prime

There indeed lay Thorin Oakenshield, wounded with many wounds ... — J.R.R. Tolkien

When you want to find Truth as God, the only inevitable means is love, that is nonviolence. — Mahatma Gandhi

I saw her tonight. I didn't mean to and I wasn't prepared for it.

I came across her sweet smiling face and I had no choice but to be confronted with all the emotions and memories I associated with her.

It brought me back to this past summer when she passed from this world into the next and how I watched the minutes in the day pass and felt the sorrow of the approaching sunset knowing that darkness would soon follow.

There is something profound about the first night after someone you love dies.

Seeing her again and mourning the loss of her anew reminded me that we keep too much to ourselves and we let people go without them ever knowing how much they touched us, intrigued us, taught us, or moved us.

I'm a firm believer in actions doing the telling, but people need to hear it as well. — Donna Lynn Hope

I think I have to work to write a happy song. I write them carefully; they're simple and they're about when it's fun to walk down the street. You know? Because that's the best thing about when you're happy. It's just one little thing that makes you happy, and you're making friends. The kind of thing I can do is capture this moment. — Rickie Lee Jones

The only thing that's going to free Huey is gun powder. — H. Rap Brown

Love is blind."
"Love is Grim. — Chanda Hahn

One event that is both history and myth is the rain of blood around the year 1000 in Aquitaine and elsewhere in France. Reports exist from the early eleventh century of a blood rain that "fell upon the clothes of many men, and so stained them with gore that they shuddered at the sight of their own garments and tore them off." Fulbert of Chartres wrote that account in a letter to King Robert of France, after the worried king received a report from Duke William V about a rain of blood that fell in Aquitaine. Scientists today believe that historical reports of blood rain may have been due to dust containing iron oxide, — Joseph Finley

I move my lips when I read
I'm painfully slow
so I like really good English. — John Le Carre

I love spring flowers: daffodils and hyacinths are the ultimate flower for me. They are the essence of spring. — Kirsty Gallacher

Successful model? That's a myth. The year I modeled was the most painful year of my life. Editors would always talk to you in the third person as though you were merely a piece of merchandise. — Jessica Lange

Spring had come finally and after much hesitation, to Lincoln's Inn Fields and there were daffodils out upon the green grass and gilly-flowers blooming in the window-boxes of the ground floor sets. This being Lincoln's Inn, where an air of general severity prevails, they did so with an unconscionable meekness, as if they feared that some legal eminence- Mr Crabbe perhaps- would descend in wrath from his chambers and present them with a writ for unlicensed blossoming or occupying too great a proportion of space. — D.J. Taylor