“directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the grass was… — L. Frank Baum Copy Share Image
“The little prince, who was present at the first appearance of a huge bud, felt at once that some sort of miraculous… — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry Copy Share Image
In the Cairngorms, doing 'Winterwatch,' I had a two-and-a-half hour walk one morning when we weren't filming, and it was just beautiful… — Michaela Strachan Copy Share Image
It's important when you're married not to forget those things you used to do when you were trying to get her to… — David Walliams Copy Share Image
The same wind that uproots trees makes the grass shine. The lordly wind loves the weakness and the lowness of grasses. Never… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
A springlike autumn's balmy breeze reaches afar. The sun shines on the house of a recluse South of the river; They encourage… — Sun Bu'er Copy Share Image
Once, long ago in her world, a sunny day in spring was her favorite, but now a sunny day in winter delights… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“You know--my flower . . . I am responsible for her. And she is so weak! She is so naïve! She has… — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry Copy Share Image
A short time later, when the carpenter was taking measurements for the coffin, through the window they saw a light rain of… — Gabriel Garcia Marquez 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
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
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
“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
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
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
“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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
The man who accepts the laissez-faire doctrine would allow his garden to grow wild so that roses might fight it out with… — John Ruskin Copy Share Image
Young men, you who have any piety at all, what sort is it? Is it a hot-house plant, which must be framed… — William Morley Punshon Copy Share Image
If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
In Sarvamangalam,' I am fond of flowers and I want to own a nursery. My character talks only to flowers. If she… — Shamna Kasim Copy Share Image
January gray is here, like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, march with grief doth howl and rave, and… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
“It was May before my attention came to spring and my word I said to the southern slopes I've missed it, it… — A.R. Ammons Copy Share Image
Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring; That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared… — William Wordsworth Copy Share Image
“Living the focused life is not about trying to feel happy all the time…rather, it’s about treating your mind as you would… — Winifred Gallagher Copy Share Image
“There is an allegory for historians in the diverse functions of saw, wedge, and axe. The saw works only across the years,… — Aldo Leopold Copy Share Image
The trouble with us is that we expect too much from the great happenings, the unusual things, and we overlook the common… — Orison Swett Marden Copy Share Image
“How beautiful the house was with its magnolia trees lining the drive, their branches outstretched as if they were beckoning him inside.… — Ellen Read Copy Share Image
But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach, And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling, The world is mine:… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
In August, the large masses of berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees, gradually assumed their bright velvety crimson… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
