Quotes & Sayings About Exotic Flowers

N matter how stressed Claire became, the tropical trees and exotic island flowers decorating the lobby always managed to take her breath away and put her mind at ease. Nature had always been a good de-stressor for her coming in close behind having her hand held by Mr. Sam Stewart — Carolyn Gibbs

Tugging her arm free of his, she moved over to a stone bench flanked by some exotic-looking red flowers and took a seat. She was not amused when he took a seat right beside her, crowding her in the process. "When did you get so large?" she asked, scooting as casually as she could away from him, not allowing herself to dwell on why his nearness was bothering her. "When I began working in a steel mill." Wilhelmina — Jen Turano

Her childhood had been magical, hours spent in ecstatic loneliness in the apple orchard, dreaming of foreign lands and wild adventures. Everything was new, down to bird song and grass blades. By the time she had reached adulthood, the town around her was like a grandmother who had used up all her stories and now simply rocked on the porch. The same flowers, the same streets, year after year. She longed for someone more exotic. A prince. A pirate. — Kathy Hepinstall

Final Disposition

Others divided closets full of mother's things.
From the earth, I took her poppies.
I wanted those fandango folds
of red and black chiffon she doted on,
loving the wild and Moorish music of them,
coating her tongue with the thin skin
of their crimson petals.

Snapping her fingers, flamenco dancer,
she'd mock the clack of castanets
in answer to their gypsy cadence.
She would crouch toward the flounce of flowers,
twirl, stamp her foot, then kick it out
as if to lift the ruffles, scarlet
along the hemline of her yard.

And so, I dug up, soil and all,
the thistle-toothed and gray-green clumps
of leaves, the testicle seedpods and hairy stems
both out of season, to transplant them in my less-exotic garden. There, they bloom
her blood's abandon, year after year,
roots holding, their poppy heads nodding
a carefree, opium-ecstatic, possibly forever sleep. — Jane Glazer

Their life is mysterious, it is like a forest; from far off it seems a unity, it can be comprehended, described, but closer it begins to separate, to break into light and shadow, the density blinds one. Within there is no form, only prodigious detail that reaches everywhere: exotic sounds, spills of sunlight, foliage, fallen trees, small beasts that flee at the sound of a twig-snap, insects, silence, flowers.
And all of this, dependent, closely woven, all of it is deceiving. There are really two kinds of life. There is, as Viri says, the one people believe you are living, and there is the other. It is this other which causes the trouble, this other we long to see. — James Salter

Acharya Balkrishna on Yog

"Who will not be delighted to behold the exotic scenery and flora of the barren lands of Himalayas. Similar is the power of Yog which beautifies the deserted life and fructifies hope in the shattered hearts. By taking refuge in Yog, the fallow mind will blossom into flowers indeed. — Acharya Balkrishna

Because I am really interested in gardening, I do really interesting plants, not even always flowers. And because I have grown them, I really know them like friends. I paint everything from exotic orchids to rosehips growing wild in a hedge. They just have to speak to me. — Emma Tennant

It had pale golden sands and clear cloudless blue skies. Rich quantities of palm trees and exotic flowers in dramatic red and fuchsia pink and bright yellow colors enhanced the islands beauty. The gardens were decorated with white Balinese furniture and the Japanese rock gardens with mythical dragons, lions, dinosaurs, elephants, nymphs, and man beasts (half men and half beast) in concrete large statutes and red bridges over goldfish ponds. A large loch housed swans and pink flamingos. — Annette J. Dunlea

Life has suddenly become overcrowded. Too many people I can care for are swarming in and filling up my chest. Too many things I want to do are rushing headlong into my new life for reasons unknown to me. All of a sudden my new life is like a field overgrown with strange flowers and exotic grasses or the shimmering, starry sky of my unbridled imagination... — Qiu Miaojin

Whoever will cultivate their own mind will find full employment. Every virtue does not only require great care in the planting, but as much daily solicitude in cherishing as exotic fruits and flowers; the vices and passions (which I am afraid are the natural product of the soil) demand perpetual weeding. Add to this the search after knowledge ... and the longest life is too short. — Mary Wortley Montagu

I look up at the ceiling, tracing the foliage of the wreath. Today it makes me think of a hat, the large-brimmed hats women used to wear at some period during the old days: hats like enormous halos, festooned with fruit and flowers, and the feathers of exotic birds; hats like an idea of paradise, floating just above the head, a thought solidified. — Margaret Atwood