“The most beautiful rose still has to contend with ugly thorns.” — Matshona Dhliwayo Copy Share Image
I believe that the fragile-flower, idea-intolerant society of victimhood that is being cultivated in many colleges today is really bad. — Gene Weingarten Copy Share Image
The grim frost is at hand, when apples will fall thick, almost thunderous, on the hardened earth. — D. H. Lawrence Copy Share Image
Learn to love the sunrise and sunset, the beating of rain on the roof and windows, and the gentle fall of snow… — Lowell L. Bennion Copy Share Image
“If I had but three months to live, I pray God would allow them to be the months of autumn.” — Wayne Masters Copy Share Image
Summer in the deep South is not only a season, a climate, it's a dimension. Floating in it, one must be either… — Eugene Walter Copy Share Image
“You are its crowning flower, the dark bloom that promises both rebirth and an avenging hand.” — Juliette Cross Copy Share Image
“Other flowers came at the end of the summer, but by then the winter sadness had already dissipated, and the effect of… — Jessica Stern Copy Share Image
I cast my heart into my rhymes, That you, in the dim coming times, May know how my heart went with them… — William Butler Yeats Copy Share Image
Everything I do is because of writing. If I go for a walk, it's because I'm thinking of writing. I go look… — Jamaica Kincaid Copy Share Image
“You are, of course, allowed to love food and music and champagne and rare sunny afternoons in October. You can love the… — Matt Haig Copy Share Image
The Moscow of these pageants is the old core city with its buildings of pastel hues and white trim that, with the… — Warren Hoge Copy Share Image
The whole tree itself is but one leaf, and rivers are still vaster leaves whose pulp is intervening earth, and towns and… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
“According to an eastern fable, the rose was white when God created it, but when, as it unfolded, it felt Adam's eyes… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“Pedaling down the maple lined drive, quicksilver temper ebbed, her resilient spirits were lifted with the beauty of the day. The valley… — Nora Roberts Copy Share Image
“...Bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters. Give ye a sweet odor as frankincense. Send forth flowers, as… — Douai-Rheims Bible Copy Share Image
“The tree does not end at it's skin but exists also in the rain that falls downwind, many miles from the forest.… — Stephen Harrod Buhner Copy Share Image
