“If Nature put not forth her power About the opening of the flower, Who is it that could live an hour?”

Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Who is wise in love, love most, say least.

This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.

Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.

God gives us love! Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.

Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths; Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.

It’s better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would’ve happened if I had tried.

Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.

Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long

Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead one to sovereign power.

All things human change.

A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies.

Silence, beautiful voice.

Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.

More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

The desert weed lives on, but the flower of spring blooms and wilts.

Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, producing varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.

The flowers you gave me are rotting and still I refuse to throw them, away.

The Flower that once has blown forever dies.

Just like a flower, we blossom and transform with the proper sunlight, a balanced amount of water, enough fresh air and when we are firmly planted in the ground.

The light from the heart shines ever so brightly like a beautiful flower opening up to the world.

Life is like a dream that comes and goes like the flower that blooms and then withers away with time.

Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.