“One daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.”

As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.

But who is innocent? By grace divine, Not otherwise,O Nature! we are thine.

A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.

But He is risen, a later star of dawn.

Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.

He spake of love, such love as spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away, no strife to heal,- The past unsighed for, and the future sure.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

My heart leaps up when I behold

Let Nature be your teacher.

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.

A tale in everything.

And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!

There is creation in the eye.

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.

Mistakes are flowers of change.

Let me not be shy with you how may I be? Can a flower remain shy with a bee?

From each scar today bloom the flowers of a kinder tomorrow.

Every flower blooms at their own pace, dear. Watch your own growth, not others’ one.

I remind myself that I am capable of growing flowers from rain and building mountains from dirt.

If a home is where the heart is, I guess my home left with you. Please remember to water the flowers.

I am made of flowers, the kind that always grow back even after the frost.

The moon felt brighter, I smelt flowers as if they bloomed in winter and felt the sun bless my skin in darkness. My mind was healing and i could feel again.