After Nicholas hung up the phone, he watched his mother carry buckets and garden tools across the couch grass toward a bed that would, come spring, be brightly ablaze as tropical coral with colorful arctotis, impatiens, and petunias. Katherine dug with hard chopping strokes, pulling out wandering jew and oxalis, tossing the uprooted weeds into a black pot beside her. The garden will be beautiful, he thought. But how do the weeds feel about it? Sacrifices must be made. . Stephen M. Irwin
It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a...
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Colette
A weed is but an unloved flower.
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Ella Wheeler Wilcox
So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and...
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Charlotte Eriksson
He said that we belonged together because he was born with a flower and I was born with a butterfly and that flowers and butterflies need each other for survival.
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Gemma Malley
You’re frustrated because you keep waiting for the blooming of flowers of which you have yet to sow the seeds.
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Steve Maraboli
More Quotes By Stephen M. Irwin
I need to ask, are you afraid of spiders?" Nicholas blinked, suddenly caught off guard, "Yes, I'm afraid of spiders."" Were you always?"" What are you, a psychiatrist?" Pritam took a breath. He could feel Laine's eyes on him, appraising his line of questioning." Is...
Hannah expected this to make her sob even more, but instead she found her tears drying up and her tummy growing warm. How dare they? How dare they do this to little girls? She understood now why her parents go so angry when they saw...
But a smell shivered him awake. It was a scent as old as the world. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand places. It was the tang of pine needles. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>It was the musk of sex. It was the muscular rot of...
Christ can forgive you, " he whispered, though he didn't believe it. There wasn't a hint of compassion in those ice-blue eyes." That's grand, " she said. Her features became again those of the pleasant brown-haired nurse. She smiled, pulled the pillow from under his...
Tears sprang from her eyes and she bit her lip to stop herself from howling at the bright pain.
