Browsing Topic Best Violet Quotes

We may pass violets looking for roses. We may pass contentment looking for victory.

Violets are God’s apology for February.

I had not thought of violets of late,The wild, shy kind that springs beneath you feetIn wistful April days.

What Art was to the ancient world, Science is to the modern: the distinctive faculty. In the minds of men the useful has succeeded to the beautiful. Instead of the city of the Violet Crown, a Lancashire village has expanded into a mighty region of factories and warehouses. Yet, rightly understood, Manchester is as great a human exploit; as Athens.

The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocksA scarlet rain; the yellow violetSat in the chariot of its leaves, the phloxHeld spikes of purple flame in meadows wet,And all the streams with vernal-scented reedWere fringed, and streaky bellow of miskodeed.

I don’t feel myself that I Know it all, but I have enough conceit to be successful. That observation was made by a businessman in his 30s who was making notable headway, although his path bristled with difficulties. Business places no premiums on shrinking violets. Employers prefer men who have self-assurance, forcefulness, go-aheadness, men who know their jobs and know that they know it.

Roses are reddishViolets are bluishIf it weren’t for ChristmasWe’d all be Jewish.

The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour’d back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remembered to have been Joyful and free from blame.

The learned compute that seven hundred and seven millions of millions of vibrations have penetrated the eye before the eye can distinguish the tints of a violet. What philosophy can calculate the vibrations of the heart before it can distinguish the colours of love?

A classic lecture, rich in sentiment, With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out By violet-hooded Doctors, elegies And quoted odes, and jewels five-words-long, That on the stretched forefinger of all Time Sparkle for ever.

Roses are red, violets are blue, I’m sick of this poem, you probably are too.

I’m confident that I’m as intelligent as many people, but I know that I’m not as intelligent as some. So in the presence of hyperintelligent people, I’m a shrinking violet because I don’t want to look like a fool. I know a little about a lot and a lot about a little.

Yesterday I sat in a field of violets for a long time perfectly still, until I really sank into it – into the rhythm of the place, I mean – then when I got up to go home I couldn’t walk quickly or evenly because I was still in time with the field.

Voluptuous bloom and fragrance rare The summer to its rose may bring; Far sweeter to the wooing air The hidden violet of spring. Still, still that lovely ghost appears, Too fair, too pure, to bid depart; No riper love of later years Can steal its beauty from the heart.

Wild honey smells of freedom The dust – of sunlight The mouth of a young girl, like a violet But gold – smells of nothing.

Tokyo Heist is a fast-paced, exotic reading adventure, a story where The da Vinci Code meets the wildly popular manga genre! Author Diana Renn infuses protagonist Violet with plenty of chikara (power) and Renn’s fresh, spot-on author’s voice is irresistible. I couldn’t put it down!

No monster vibration, no snake universe hallucinations. Many tiny jeweled violet flowers along the path of a living brook that looked like Blake’s illustration for a canal in grassy Eden: huge Pacific watery shore, Orlovsky dancing naked like Shiva long-haired before giant green waves, titanic cliffs that Wordsworth mentioned in his own Sublime, great yellow sun veiled with mist hanging over the planet’s oceanic horizon. No harm.

This is the violet hour, the hour of hush and wonder, when the affectations glow and valor is reborn, when the shadows deepen along the edge of the forest and we believe that, if we watch carefully, at any moment we may see the unicorn.

Oh! that we two were MayingDown the stream of the soft spring breeze;Like children with violets playing,In the shade of the whispering trees.

Elizabeth Taylor is, in my opinion, the greatest actress in film history. She instinctively understands the camera and its nonverbal intimacies. Opening her violet eyes, she takes us into the liquid realm of emotion, which she inhabits by Pisces intuition. Richard Burton said that Taylor showed him how to act for the camera. Economy and understatement are essential. At her best, Elizabeth Taylor simply is. An electric, erotic charge vibrates the space between her face and the lens. It is an extra-sensory, pagan phenomenon.

Roses are red Violets are blue Everything’s possible Nothing is true.

Blue is for cruel bargains; green is for daring what you oughtn’t; violet is for brute force. I will say to you: Coral coaxes; pink insists; red compels. I will say to you: You are dear to me as attar of roses. Please do not get eaten.

Roses are red, Violets are blue, No amount of money, Can stop me from loving you, Try as they may, Try as they might, I’m not letting go, Without a fight, Some say it’s wicked, Some say it’s sinful, Some it’s wrong, And just wrong, I don’t know much, But when push comes to shove, I definitely don’t believe, There’s such thing wrong as love.

There is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.

Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.

Violets smell like burnt sugar cubes that have been dipped in lemon and velvet.

What is green? The grass is green,With small flowers between.What is violet? Clouds are violetIn the summer twilight.What is orange? Why, an orange,Just an orange!

The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read.

China tea, the scent of hyacinths, wood fires and bowls of violets – that is my mental picture of an agreeable February afternoon.

Violet has the shortest wavelength of the spectrum. Behind it, the invisible ultraviolet. Roses are Red, Violets are Blue. Poor violet, violated for a rhyme.

Mathematical discoveries, like springtime violets in the woods, have their season which no human can hasten or retard.

I stepped closer still. He closed his eyes again and covered my hand with his own. ‘You smell of violets. You always smell of violets,’ he said. ‘You’ve no idea how many times I have walked these moors and smelled them and thought you were near. On and on I walked, following the scent of you, and you were never there. When I saw you in the hall tonight, I thought I had finally gone mad.

If you can do it, it ain’t braggin’… it’s a matter of self-confidence. I got where I did because I wasn’t no shrinking violet.

But this time I’m not to blame; I want you to believe that. I simply slipped into those violets. No, I want to be really truthful. I am a little to blame. The sky, you know, was gold, and the ground all blue, and for a moment he looked like some one in a book.

When the time is ripe for certain things, these things appear in different places in the manner of violets coming to light in the early spring.