Coldly, sadly descends The autumn evening. The Field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade into… — Matthew Arnold Copy Share Image
He had never liked October. Ever since he had first lay in the autumn leaves before his grandmother's house many years ago… — Ray Bradbury Copy Share Image
(After meeting her birth mother after more than 40 years) We exchange bunches of orchids, laughing at the coincidence of the flowers.… — Jackie Kay Copy Share Image
I like muddling things up; and if a herb looks nice in a border, then why not grow it there? Why not… — Vita Sackville-West Copy Share Image
All gods who receive homage are cruel. All gods dispense suffering without reason. Otherwise they would not be worshipped. Through indiscriminate suffering… — Zora Neale Hurston Copy Share Image
“The winter drew on — a season as different from the summer in those northern latitudes, as if it belonged to another… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“Even though the bee is small, there she is on the flower, doing something of value. And the value she creates there… — Jay Ebben Copy Share Image
If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it. If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.… — Max Lucado Copy Share Image
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
May and June. Soft syllables, gentle names for the two best months in the garden year: cool, misty mornings gently burned away… — H. Peter Loewer Copy Share Image
A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and… — Ben Jonson Copy Share Image
Give me artificial flowers - porcelain and metal glories - neither fading nor decaying, forms unaging. Flowers of the splendid gardens of… — C.P. Cavafy Copy Share Image
How swiftly the strained honey of afternoon light flows into darkness and the closed bud shrugs off its special mystery in order… — Lisel Mueller Copy Share Image
Perhaps, he thought, true pure love, like all flowers, flourished best with its roots in muck and mud. Perhaps that was a… — Harry Mulisch Copy Share Image
No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter lingering chills the lap of May; No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast,… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
And in a small house five miles away was a man who held my mud-encrusted charm bracelet out to his wife. Look… — Alice Sebold Copy Share Image
“Hampshire was dressed in scarlet and brilliant orange, the hounds were out four mornings a week, and the last baskets of fruit… — Lisa Kleypas Copy Share Image
“What little was known about the range of wolverines made it plain that they are tied to environments with fairly heavy snowfall… — Douglas H. Chadwick Copy Share Image
Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
Were it possible for us to wait for ourselves to come into the room, not many of us would find our hearts… — Rebecca West Copy Share Image
People are timid and apologetic; they are no longer upright; they dare not say "I think," "I am," but quote some saint… — Ralph Waldo Emerson Copy Share Image
In winter, the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look… — John Burroughs Copy Share Image
L I K E is like a bunch of dandelion seeds falling beautifully on the ground. It's a soft and good feeling… — Seohyun Copy Share Image
It is exceedingly deleterious to withdraw the sanction of religion from amusement. If we feel that it is all injurious we should… — Edwin Hubbel Chapin Copy Share Image
Let me, if I may, be ever welcomed to my room in winter by a glowing hearth, in summer by a vase… — George MacDonald Copy Share Image
“The aim of forest garden design is to make the relationships as co-operative as possible, while acknowledging that very few plants will… — Patrick Whitefield Copy Share Image
“Like a flower pressed flat and dried, we try to hold it still and say, this is exactly how it was the… — Robin Hobb Copy Share Image
I had been dreaming a complicated dream about helping poets revise their poems, so that each ending would open like a flower.… — Diane Wakoski Copy Share Image
If there is any way you can get colder than you do when you sleep in a bedding roll on the ground… — A. J. Liebling Copy Share Image
His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Think of your child, then, not as dead, but as living; not as a flower that has withered, but as one that… — Richard Hooker Copy Share Image
February is for curmudgeons, whinge-bags, and misanthropes. You can't begrudge us one month of the year or blame us for being even… — Lionel Shriver Copy Share Image
There is no royal flower strewn path to success. And if there is, I have not found it, for whatever success I… — Madam C. J. Walker Copy Share Image
“That streetside tree is obscuring the air. Cut it down. Haul it in for questioning. There are secrets within that foliage. You… — Benson Bruno Copy Share Image
“At dusk, on the last day of April, I hear a calling noise, like a white-winged barn owl, and I go to… — Philippa Gregory Copy Share Image
“When a tree is polled, it will sprout new shoots nearer its roots. A soul that is ruined in the bud will… — Hermann Hesse Copy Share Image
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violets dandelions And the big bullying daisies through the field wonderful with eyes a little sorry Another comes… — e. e. cummings Copy Share Image
“Summer Magic’… two words that go well together, because summer always means a certain kind of magic to most of us. In… — Walter Elias Disney Copy Share Image
The hopeless hope is one of the early harbingers of spring, bespeaking an innocent belief that the world might right its wrongs… — Aleksandar Hemon Copy Share Image
A bag of apples, a pot of homemade jam, a scribbled note, a bunch of golden flowers, a coloured pebble, a box… — Pam Brown Copy Share Image
