Browsing Topic Best Pansies Quotes

How does a pansy, for example, select the ingredients from soil to get the right colors for the flower? Now there’s a great miracle. I think there’s a supreme power behind all of this. I see it in nature.

I leave pansies, the symbolic flower of freethought, in memory of the Great Agnostic, Robert Ingersoll, who stood for equality, education, progress, free ideas and free lives, against the superstition and bigotry of religious dogma. We need men like him today more than ever. His writing still inspires us and challenges the ‘better angels’ of our nature, when people open their hearts and minds to his simple, honest humanity. Thank goodness he was here.

Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.

I know not which I love the most, Nor which the comeliest shows, The timid, bashful violet Or the royal-hearted rose: The pansy in purple dress, The pink with cheek of red, Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs, Like a bashful maid her head.

Tis not your work, but Love’s. Love, unperceived, A more ideal Artist he than all, Came, drew your pencil from you, made those eyes Darker than the darkest pansies, and that hair More black than ashbuds in the front of March.

Heart’s ease of pansy, pleasure or thought, Which would the picture give us of these? Surely the heart that conceived it sought Heart’s ease.

Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.

The delicate thought, that cannot find expression, For ruder speech too fair, That, like thy petals, trembles in possession, And scatters on the air.

If there was ever a bigger pansy than my father, it was Marcel Proust.

Flower in the crannied wall,I pluck you out of the crannies,I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,Little flower-but if I could understandWhat you are, root and all, all in all,I should know what God and man is.

Poetry is a mystic, sensuous mathematics of fire, smoke-stacks, waffles, pansies, people, and purple sunsets.

I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that’s for lover’s thoughts.

Tis but a scratch!A scratch? Your arm’s off!No it isn’t.Then what’s that?Oh come on, pansy!

if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)haveone. It will not be a pansy heaven ora fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley butit will be a heaven of blackred rosesmy father will be(deep like a rosetall like a rose)standing near myswaying over her(silent)with eyes which are really petals and seenothing with the face of a poet really whichis a flower and not a face withhandswhich whisperThis is my beloved my(suddenly in sunlighthe will bow,and the whole garden will bow)

A silence reigns upon the air, Upon the pansies by the shore, Upon the violets, pale and fair, Upon the willow, bending o’er; The reeds and lilies silent grow, The dark green waters silent sleep, Save when the summer breezes blow, Or silvery minnows leap.

He was one of those guys that think they’re being a pansy if they don’t break around forty of your fingers when they shake hands with you. God I hate that stuff.

She wished she had a little yellow house of her own, with a flower box full of real flowers and herbs – pansies and rosemary – and a sweet lover who would swing dance with her in the evenings and cook pasta and read poetry aloud.

I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me I’d rather [my daughters] were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.

Pansy rolled over and went to sleep, but Petunia stayed awake long after Olga left, and long after Oliver crawled out from under the bed, grabbed some sandwiches, and slipped out the door. She hoped that he was going to Galen and Rose’s room, and she hoped, too that he hadn’t known she was awake when he had leaned over and kissed her hair. She wanted to savor that touch forever.

What do you think spies are: priests, saints and martyrs? They’re a squalid procession of vain fools, traitors too, yes; pansies, sadists and drunkards, people who play cowboys and Indians to brighten their rotten lives.

She [Pansy] pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard’s elbow. She was as tall as Poppy, with shining dark-brown hair and blue eyes. An utterly lovely girl, as all the princesses were, yet Oliver thought Petunia was far more beautiful.

Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.

With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears.

I was the Pink Pansy or whatever, wearing this crazy thing.

I don’t want to be labeled as either a pansy or a heterosexual. Labeling is so self-limiting. We are what we do – not what we say we are.

Well, I am a giant pansy and freak out if seaweed touches my leg in the ocean.

Pansies, lilies, kingcups, daisies, Let them live upon their praises.

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.