…a flower of strange beauty, growing in a desolate spot, and blossoming in the wind...

Has mirado la más triste la más lúgubre de todas las flores de la tierra
Y como a las otras flores tú le diste un nombre
La llamaste Pensamiento.

The fairest flower that ever saw the light.

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.

So struggle!
For struggle is life's flower;
The fertile flower of life.

Bright flower! whose home is everywhere Bold in maternal nature's care And all the long year through the heir Of joy or sorrow, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other flower I see The forest through.

The being filled with wonder is lovely, like a flower.

I came across a wild flower, marveled at its beauty and at the perfection of all its parts, and exclaimed: 'But all this in you and in thousands like you blossoms and fades; it is not noticed by anyone and in fact is often not even seen by any one.' But the flower replied: 'You fool! Do you imagine I blossom in order to be seen? I blossom for my own sake because it pleases me, and not for the sake of others; my joy and delight consist in my being and in my blossoming.

The very flower of youth.

To create a little flower is the labor of ages.

I love two flowers in particular, the hibiscus and the poppy, beautiful blooms that die very quickly. For me they reflect the beauty and transience of life.

Beauty was too rare in the world to be wasted.

The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life.

We wake at different times, and the gallantest flowers are those that bloom in the cold.