We hate war . We do not rejoice in victories. We rejoice when a new kind of cotton is grown, and when strawberries bloom in Israel .
Consider The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:– We are as they; Like them we fade away, As doth a leaf.christina rossetti
The masterpiece should appear as the flower to the painter perfect in its bud as in its bloom with no reason to explain its presence no mission to fulfill a joy to the artist, a delusion to the philanthropist a puzzle to the botanist an accident of sentiment and alliteration to the literary man.Whistler
In plucking the fruit of memory one runs the risk of spoiling its bloom.Constantinus
What is charm, it is not a moral quality.. it is not intellectual for no man by much thinking is able to add a grain of it to his personality. One either has it or has it not, it cannot be acquired or even cultivated. It is not physical even.. it seems to be added to the human personality, an aura, a glow, the gold dust upon a butterfly's wing, the bloom upon a peach.flora thompson
If April showers should come your way, they bring the flowers that bloom in May.
I'll love you till the bluebells forget to bloom; I'll love you till the clover has lost its perfume. I'll love you till the poets run out of rhyme, Until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time.Paul Webster
But pleasures are like poppies spread You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river A moment white then melts forever.Robert Burns
Wondrous interlacement! Holding fast to threads by green and silky rings, With the dawn it spreads its white and purple wings; Generous in its bloom, and sheltering while it clings, Sturdy morning-glory.helen hunt jackson
Who, of men, can tell That flowers would bloom, or that green fruit would swell To melting pulp, that fish would have bright mail, The earth its dower of river, wood, and vale, The meadows runnels, runnels pebble-stones, The seed its harvest, or the lute its tones, Tones ravishment, or ravishment its sweet, If human souls did never kiss and greet?john keats
Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, of human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of nature's works to me expunged and razed, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.john milton
Stern Ruin's plowshare drives elate,Full on thy bloom.Robert Burns
I ought to respect myself for my friends' sake, and my children's. It is time, at fifty-six, to begin, at least, to know oneself, — and I do know what I am not, and your regard for me has at least awakened me to believe in the possibility that I may yet make some impression with my "light" — my "dews" — my "breezes" — my bloom and freshness, — no one of which qualities has yet been perfected on the canvas of any painter in the world.john constable
Writers may be disreputable, incorrigible, early to decay or late to bloom but they dare to go it alone.john updike
But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed.Robert Burns
The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contained no tomb, And glowing into day.lord byron
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom.lord byron
Above his head Four lily stalks did their white honours wed To make a coronal; and round him grew All tendrils green, of every bloom and hue, Together intertwined and trammell'd fresh; The vine of glossy sprout; the ivy mesh, Shading its Ethiop berries.john keats
Sweet letters of the angel tongue, I've loved ye long and well, And never have failed in your fragrance sweet To find some secret spell, , A charm that has bound me with witching power, For mine is the old belief, That midst your sweets and midst your bloom, There's a soul in every leaf!
Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.john milton