Flowers Quote by Sylvia Plath Download Open image “I, love, I am the pure acetylene virgin attended by roses.” — Sylvia Plath ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 4.3 out of 5 (7 ratings) Copy quoteShare Flowers Love Rose Virgins
My lady's presence makes the roses red, because to see her lips they blush for shame. — Henry Constable Copy Share Image
I think I am quite wicked with roses. I like to gather them, and smell them till they have no scent left. — George Eliot Copy Share Image
I am essence of Rose Solitude my cheeks are laced with cognac my hips sealed with five satin nails I carry dreams and romance… — Jayne Cortez Copy Share Image
“It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I love life. But it is hard and I have so much, so very much to learn. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
... These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. ... --Lady Lazarus — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
Sure, I’m dramatic and sloppily semi-cynical and semi-sentimental. But, in leisure years I could grow and choose my way. Now I am living on the edge. We all are on the brink, and it takes a lot of nerve, a lot of energy, to teeter on the edge, looking over, looking down into the windy blackness and not being quite… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“People were made of nothing so much as dust, and I couldn't see that doctoring all that dust was a bit better than writing… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I couldn't stand the idea of a woman having to have a single pure life and a man being able to have a double… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed over? No,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“The city had faded my tan, though. I looked yellow as a Chinaman. Ordinarily, I would have been nervous about my dress and my… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
A million years of evolution, Eric said bitterly, and what are we? Animals. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“I have stitched life into me like a rare organ --from "Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices", written 1962” — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“On the third day, she smelled the fruit as soon as she came in. She followed the scent to the kitchen, and the peach was radiant, dusky rose and gold, its skin so plush she thought her fingertip might bruise it. This was the day, the very hour to eat- and she had come prepared, but she didn't want Concepcion… — Allegra Goodman Copy Share
Set NOT your hearts on the flowers of this world. They shall fade and die. Prize the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
“Most girls get flowers or candy. I get a declaration of martial law.” — Lisa Shearin Copy Share Image
I do whatever entertains me. If it entertains me to throw flowers halfway across the room, then that's what I'll do. — Kevin Owens Copy Share Image
ROSES ARE RED VIOLETS ARE BLUE YOU DID ME WRONG SO GUESS WAT BABE??FUKK YU — JESSICA Copy Share Image
My days – the blossom of my youth and the flower of my manhood – have been darkened by the dreariness of servitude. In… — Daniel O'Connell Copy Share Image
Kiss From A Rose There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea. You became the light on the dark side of me. Love remained a drug that's the high and not the pill. But did you know, That when it snows, My eyes become large and The light that you shine can be seen. Baby, I compare… — Seal Copy Share
There are two kinds of beauty; there is a beauty which God gives at birth, and which withers as a flower. And there is… — Abraham Kuyper Copy Share Image
“Rose is like a woman love;when love odorous but gets offended when bony..” — Jonnaville Copy Share Image
“They basked in the sweet-scented breeze, and felt the sunshine warming their bare heads. Petals drifted from the gnarled apple and cherry trees, creating a pretty storm, like confetti. They lay together in the grass, watching a beetle trundling through the blades, its clumsy movements reminiscent of the soldiers' giant transport trucks. Birdsong filled the air, horse buses clopped through… — Susan Wiggs Copy Share
The sun, a red wheel, was sinking slowly in the west. Besides being spectacularly beautiful, the early-summer sunset was exceedingly soft and gentle: black mulberry leaves turned as red as roses; pristine white acacia petals shed an enshrouding pale-green aura. Mild evening breezes made both the mulberry leaves and the acacia petals dance and whirl, filling the woods with a… — Mo Yan Copy Share
