Chrysanthemums Quote by Yosa Buson Download Open image “In lantern-light My yellow Chrysanthemums Lost all their color” — Yosa Buson ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 2.7 out of 5 (9 ratings) Copy quoteShare Chrysanthemums Color Fall Lantern light Lanterns Light Losing Lost Yellow
Some brave chrysanthemums still stood in the country gardens, but they looked like bedraggled survivors of a battle, barely able to hold their tattered… — Patricia Moyes Copy Share Image
The light made the snowballs look yellow. Or at least I hoped that was the cause. — Gary D. Schmidt Copy Share Image
Every year, in November, at the season that follows the hour of the dead, the crowning and majestic hours of autumn, I go to… — Maurice Maeterlinck Copy Share Image
Yellow is my favorite summer color - it makes me feel like a sunflower. — Bria Vinaite Copy Share Image
“Note what the catalogue says about colour and height and time of flowering, choose the appropriate shade of crayon and mark position of plant on plan. You will soon see what would make good neighbours nd what would be fatal. Last year I dumped a lot of seeds haphazardly in a hurry and got mesembryanthemums and a new ‘electric orange’… — Ethelind Fearon Copy Share
There is a sun, a light that for want of another word I can only call yellow, pale sulphur yellow, pale golden citron. How… — Vincent Van Gogh Copy Share Image
Yes, I answered you last night; No, this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning 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 bit of… — Richard Grossinger Copy Share Image
Colours change: in the morning light, red shines out bright and clear and the blues merge into their surroundings, melting into the greens; but by the evening the reds loose their piquancy, embracing a quieter tone and shifting toward the blues in the rainbow. Yellow flowers remain bright, and white ones become luminous, shining like ghostly figures against a darkening… — Rosemary Verey Copy Share
“The multicolored leaves were softly glowing against the black sky, creating an untimely nocturnal rainbow which scattered its spectral tints everywhere and dyed the… — Thomas Ligotti Copy Share Image
Fame stole my yellow. Yellow is the color you get when you're real and brutally honest. Yellow is with my kids[...]The bundle of bright yellow warming my core, formerly frozen and uninhabitable[...]They got yellow from me, and I felt yellow giving it to them and it was all good[...]So, why am I leaving my show? It took my yellow. I… — Rosie O'Donnell Copy Share
What you want to acquire, you should dare to acquire by any means. What you want to see, even though it is with difficulty,… — Yosa Buson Copy Share Image
I look for myself but find no one. I belong to the chrysanthemum hour of bright flowers placed in tall vases. I should make… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
The chrysanthemums' astringent fragrance comes Each year to disguise the clanking mechanism Of machine within machine within machine. — Wallace Stevens Copy Share Image
We spent the first night of our honeymoon in a country hotel, with Tudor architecture oak beams, and floors which sloped, of the Queen-Elizabeth-Slept-Here… — Jean Plaidy Copy Share Image
The breezes taste Of apple peel. The air is full Of smells to feel- Ripe fruit, old footballs, Burning brush, New books, erasers, Chalk,… — John Updike Copy Share Image
Chrysanthemums from gilded argosy Unload their gaudy senseless merchandise. — Oscar Wilde Copy Share Image
I seek and don’t find myself. I belong to chrysanthemum hours, neatly lined up in flowerpots. — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
I search and can't find myself. I belong in chrysanthemum time, sharp in calla lily elongations. God made my soul into an ornamental thing. — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
A grower of chrysanthemums awaited a visit from the emperor, who was coming to enjoy his blossoms, of which there were hundreds in bloom.… — John Templeton Copy Share Image
It was a day as different from other days as dogs are from cats and both of them from chrysanthemums or tidal waves or… — John Steinbeck Copy Share Image
Some brave chrysanthemums still stood in the country gardens, but they looked like bedraggled survivors of a battle, barely able to hold their tattered… — Patricia Moyes Copy Share Image
Every year, in November, at the season that follows the hour of the dead, the crowning and majestic hours of autumn, I go to… — Maurice Maeterlinck Copy Share Image
