Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows. — John Gay Copy Share Image
I like the way she move it, come be my buttercup and let me double scoop it. — WillIAm Copy Share Image
The dandelions and buttercups gild all the lawn: the drowsy bee stumbles among the clover tops, and summer sweetens all to me. — James Russell Lowell Copy Share Image
Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I feed Buttercup the entrails. He has stopped hissing at me. Entrails. No hissing. This is… — Suzanne Collins Copy Share Image
Buttercups, bright eyed and bold, hold their chalices of gold to catch the sunshine and the dew. — Julia Caroline Dorr Copy Share Image
Enough about my beauty," Buttercup said. "Everybody always talks about how beautiful I am. I've got a mind, Westley. Talk about that. — William Goldman Copy Share Image
“You know, you better put Buttercup on your list of demands, too. I don’t think the concept of useless pets is well… — Suzanne Collins Copy Share Image
“Don't expect too much from life, Buttercup told herself as she rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.” — William Goldman Copy Share Image
Buttercup, miserable even with Prim’s constant attention, huddles in the cube and exhales cat breath in my face. — Suzanne Collins Copy Share Image
“The dweam of wuv wapped wiffin the gweater dweam of everwasting west. Eternity is our fwiend, wemember that, and wuv wiw fowwow… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
Buttercups and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers; Coming ere the spring time, To tell of sunny hours. When the trees are leafless;… — Mary Howitt Copy Share Image
The first morning after Westley's departure, Buttercup thought she was entitled to do nothing more than sit around moping and feeling sorry… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
I reach for Prim in the twilight, clamp my hand on her leg and pull myself over to her. Her voice remains… — Suzanne Collins Copy Share Image
Why couldn't I be more like other girls my age? Take Mrs. Brown's niece. She spent every waking hour sizing up this… — Kirby Larson Copy Share Image
Yellow is my favorite, but what is yellow? Handmaiden to white, it is a slight tarnish of pure light. Take away a… — Richard Grossinger Copy Share Image
“To us children he (Mr Ewing) was our very own ‘Mr Chips’ and invariably we would each receive half a crown whenever… — Bill Scott Copy Share Image
Buttercup's mother hesitated, then put her stew spoon down. (This was after stew, but so is everything. When the first man first… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
I must be overtired', Buttercup managed. 'The excitement and all.' 'Rest then', her mother cautioned. 'Terrible things can happen when you're overtired.… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
“There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
“When she was almost seventeen, a man in a carriage came to town and watched as she rode for provisions. He was… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
The tears that kept Buttercup company the remainder of the day were not at all like those that had blinded her into… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
Westley: Hear this now: I will always come for you. Buttercup: But how can you be sure? Westley: This is true love-you… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
you were already more beautiful than anything I dared to dream. In our years apart, my imaginings did their best to improve… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
The Prince found Buttercup waiting unhappily outside his chamber doors. It's my letter,' she began. 'I cannot make it right.' Come in,… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches! If… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
She's not here," I tell him. Buttercup hisses again. "She's not here. You can hiss all you like. You won't find Prim."… — Suzanne Collins Copy Share Image
With many readers, brilliancy of style passes for affluence of thought; they mistake buttercups in the grass for immeasurable gold mines under… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
I suppose I was dying again, so I asked the Lord of Permanent Affection for the strength to live the day. Clearly,… — William Goldman Copy Share Image
