Flower Quotes by William Shakespeare

And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

— William Shakespeare

See where she comes apparelled like the spring.

— William Shakespeare

“Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud.”

— William Shakespeare

When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.

— William Shakespeare

Do not spread the compost on the weeds.

— William Shakespeare

He wears the rose Of youth upon him.

— William Shakespeare

Now is the winter of our discontent.

— William Shakespeare

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.

— William Shakespeare

These flowers are like the pleasures of the world.

— William Shakespeare

When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.

— William Shakespeare

“Here's flowers for you; hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold.”

— William Shakespeare

Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.

— William Shakespeare

“O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,”

— William Shakespeare

The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle that's curded by the frost from purest snow.

— William Shakespeare

“How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?”

— William Shakespeare

Winter, which, being full of care, makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare.

— William Shakespeare

“Return of love, more blest may be the view; As call it winter, which being full of care, Makes summer’s welcome thrice…

— William Shakespeare

“If you can look into the seeds of time And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak, then, to…

— William Shakespeare

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's…

— William Shakespeare

A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.

— William Shakespeare

On a day - alack the day! - Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the…

— William Shakespeare

From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit…

— William Shakespeare

Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun,…

— William Shakespeare

The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease.

— William Shakespeare

Dirty days hath September April June and November From January up to May The rain it raineth every day All the rest…

— William Shakespeare

It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field…

— William Shakespeare

Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing; To his music, plants…

— William Shakespeare

The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base…

— William Shakespeare

Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair, Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind,…

— William Shakespeare

Here's flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises…

— William Shakespeare

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time;…

— William Shakespeare

Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living…

— William Shakespeare

There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did…

— William Shakespeare

Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by…

— William Shakespeare

Through the forest have I gone. But Athenian found I none, On whose eyes I might approve This flower's force in stirring…

— William Shakespeare

The lily I condemned for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair: The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,…

— William Shakespeare

O Prosperina, For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's wagon; daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and…

— William Shakespeare

Beware the ides of March.

— William Shakespeare

Fairies use flowers for their charactery.

— William Shakespeare

Short summers lightly have a forward spring.

— William Shakespeare