Related Quotes
flower excellence progress
Moral excellence is the bright consummate flower of all progress. Charles Sumner
flower men he-man
There is life in the ground; it goes into the seeds and also when it is stirred up goes into the man who stirs it. Charles Dudley Warner
flower memorable thinking
Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day. Charles Dickens
flower sleep eye
The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The light, creation's mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power.
flower thinking may
Of present fame think little, and of future less; the praises that we receive after we are buried, like the flowers that are strewed over our grave, may be gratifying to the living, but they are nothing to the dead. Charles Caleb Colton
flower eye scary
I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes.
flower rain believe
The more a church flourishes, the more, I believe, do hypocrites get in, just as you see many a noxious creeping thing come and get in a garden after a shower of rain. The very things that make glad the flowers bring out these noxious things. And so hypocrites get in and steal much of the church's sap away. Charles Spurgeon
flower giving perfume
Give because you love to give - as the flower pours forth its perfume.
flower garden scripture
No Scripture is exhausted by a single explanation. The flowers of God's garden bloom not only double, but sevenfold; they are continually pouring forth fresh fragrance.
men brotherhood unity
The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood, for the unity of us all. Charlie Chaplin
men greed progress
To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress.
men greed soul
Greed has poisoned men's souls
men long liberty
As long as men die, liberty will never parish.
men hands political
I am not a political man and I have no political convictions. I am an individual and a believer in liberty. That is all the politics I have. On the other hand I am not a super-patriot. Super-patriotism leads to Hitlerism — and we've had our lesson there. I don't want to create a revolution — I just want to create a few more films.
men groups kingdoms
The Kingdom of God is within man, not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you!
men individuality genius
Man as an individual is a genius. But men in the mass form the headless monster, a great, brutish idiot that goes where prodded.
men judging treats
Judge a man not by how he treats his equals but by how he treats his inferiors.
men justice judging
If Justice is pictured blindfold, it is because she judges causes, not men, and not because the prime faculty of an arbitrator is lack of discernment. Charles Wagner
garden may delight
Hoeing in the garden on a bright, soft May day, when you are not obligated to, is nearly equal to the delight of going trouting.
garden land cities
The thing generally raised on city land is taxes.
garden giving earth
There is one rule in the garden that is above all others. You must give to nature more than you take. Obey it, and the earth will provide you in glorious abundance. Alan Chadwick
garden doe gardener
The Gardener does not create the Garden. The Garden creates the Gardener.
garden gardener
It is not the gardener that makes the garden. It is the garden that makes the gardener.
garden years piano
I did a concert at five years old in the garden of one of the church members, and we raised some money to buy a new piano in our little church. Al Jarreau
garden bombarded-by coconuts
In the garden of gentle sanity, May you be bombarded by the coconuts of wakefulness. Chogyam Trungpa
garden voice glasses
She finds tales everywhere, in grains of sand she picks up from the garden, in puffs of smoke that drift out from the chimneys of the village, in fragments of smooth timber or glass in the jetsam. She will ask them, "Where did you come from? How did you get here?" And they will answer her in voices very like her own, but with new lilts and squeaks and splashes in them that show they are their own. David Almond
garden bird dawn
Birdsong foamed in the hour-before-dawn garden. David Mitchell