Quotes & Sayings About Flowers In Rebecca

You know how you're at a party and you pick up the wrong beer, and you know after one sip that it's not yours? But then, when you find the right one, you know it right away? Why? What is it? The temperature, or the taste of your own spit that you somehow recognize? Or the weight and moistness of the can? Or maybe everything, all together. But it's all so subtle and complex you can't explain it. If someone asked, How do you know that's your beer? well, you wouldn't know what to say. You just know. — Rebecca Flowers

As we passed by on the stony causeway, women looked up at us from the fields, their faces furrowed with all known distresses. By their sides, lambs skipped in gaiety and innocence, and goats skipped in gaiety but without innocence, and at their feet the cyclamens shone mauve; the beasts and flowers seemed fortunate because they are not human, as those who have passed within the breath of a plague and have escaped it. — Rebecca West

Do you remember that scene in Airplane! where the guy with the flags is waving a jet into its gate, then someone asks him where the bathrooms are, so he begins gesturing in the other direction?"

"So the jet crashes into the airport. Yes."

"That's how it is, with him. I think I'm getting these signals, you know, and it turns out he's just looking for the toilet. — Rebecca Flowers

I think I like wildflowers best," I explain. "They just grow wherever they want. No one has to plant them. And then their seeds blow in the wind and they find a new place to grow." (Richelle) — Rebecca Donovan

I've read Flowers in the Attic and The Other Side of Midnight and Go Ask Alice and I don't want to read any more books where the girl dies in the end. — Rebecca Godfrey

Flowers heal me. Tulips make me happy. I keep myself surrounded by them as soon as they start coming to the island from Canada, and after that when they come from the fields in La Connor, not far from where I live. — Rebecca Wells

Dear, he was the bad dress of men - a bit too short and clinging to you in all the wrong places. — Rebecca Flowers

Goodwill is something you put away like preserves, for a rainy day, for winter, for lean times, and it was moving to find that i had more than I had ever imagined. People gathered from all directions, and I was taken care of beautifully ... Afterward ... I occasionally wished that life was always like this, that I was always being showered with flowers and assistance and solicitousness, but you only get it when you need it. If you're lucky, you get it when you need it. To know that it was there when I needed it changed everything a little in the long run. — Rebecca Solnit

No problem,' said the girl. 'If Melanie's okay with it. Didn't she say she'd be in tomorrow?' 'So she did. I forgot. Well, it can be quite busy on a Saturday. She'll find plenty for you to do. There's a whole lot to learn about stock rotation, and how different sorts of flowers need to be kept. But if you can't make it, don't worry.' 'No problem,' said the girl again. — Rebecca Tope

She was getting over it. She could feel it. Maybe she would never entirely be over him, but she thought she was beginning to see that a fairly normal future could be hers again. — Rebecca Flowers

Rebecca uttered a low dry laugh, not facetiously, but more like a stitch coming apart at the seam. A wound opened. Her eyes were opening to a world she had denied for so long. She looked up at Frank and knew, just like in the books, hatred, real hatred is a Gollum that hides under the mountain of our hearts. It buries itself deep underground where no light can touch. And it waits. Rebecca thought of Tolkien and Bilbo and Frodo and that old grey wizard, she thought that maybe they were right. Perhaps "there are older and fouler things in the deep places of the world - in the deep places of our hearts." And as she sat on the floor with Tom Johnson's Glock aimed at her husband's head, Rebecca looked into the space where his eyes should have been. She looked at what was now only darkness and felt something on the other side, something not her husband, looking back. — Thomas S. Flowers

Rebecca, always Rebecca. Wherever I walked in Manderley, wherever I sat, even in my thoughts and in my dreams, I met Rebecca. I knew her figure now, the long slim legs, the small and narrow feet. Her shoulders, broader than mine, the capable clever hands. Hands that could steer a boat, could hold a horse. Hands that arranged flowers, made the models of ships, and wrote 'Max from Rebecca' on the fly-leaf of a book. I knew her face too, small and oval, the clear white skin, the cloud of dark hair. I knew the scent she wore, I could guess her laughter and her smile. If I heard it, even among a thousand others, I should recognize her voice. Rebecca, always Rebecca. I should never be rid of Rebecca. — Daphne Du Maurier