Be the green grass above me, with showers and dewdrops wet; and if thou wilt, remember, and if thou wilt, forget. — Christina Rossetti Copy Share Image
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough; Sweet is the eglantine, but… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage… — Lord Byron Copy Share Image
I do not expect anyone will ever have the opportunity of constructing another course like Cypress Point, as I do not suppose… — Alister MacKenzie Copy Share Image
If you should look for this place after a handful of lifetimes: Perhaps of my planted forest a few May stand yet,… — Robinson Jeffers Copy Share Image
I lived on the Greek side of Cypress, and I think that's also where my interest in politics really started to come… — Hannah Simone Copy Share Image
Bid me despair, and I'll despair,Under that cypress tree;Or bid me die, and I will dareE'en Death, to die for thee. — Robert Herrick Copy Share Image
Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
There may be difficulty at the moment, but I will not lose the Virtue that I possess. It is when the ice… — Zhuangzi Copy Share Image
Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Along the avenue of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks and surplices Of linen, go the chanting choristers, The priests in gold… — D. H. Lawrence Copy Share Image
The oak has not the efficacy of the fir, nor the cypress that of the elm. — Marcus Vitruvius Pollio Copy Share Image
It's only in winter that the pine and cypress are known to be evergreens. — Confucius Copy Share Image
Near my house in Los Angeles is a waterfall. I love to take the wife and kids, but it's also near a… — Al Madrigal Copy Share Image
Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress-trees Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
