A little thing, like children putting flowers in my hair, can fill up the widening cracks in my self-assurance like soothing lanolin.
Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.
The mare set off for home with the speed of a swallow, and going as smoothly and silently. I never had dreamed of such a motion, fluent and graceful, and ambient, soft as the breeze flitting over the flowers, but swift as the summer lightening.
That’s the way I do things when I want to celebrate, I always plant a tree. And so I got an indigenous tree, called Nandi flame, it has this beautiful red flowers. When it is in flower it is like it is in flame.
Your minds may now be likened to a garden, which will, if neglected, yield only weeds and thistles; but, if cultivated, will produce the most beautiful flowers, and the most delicious fruits.
Let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend.
The earth laughs in flowers.
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch’d by the thorns.
The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world.