Run my dear, from anything that may not strengthen your precious budding wings. Run like hell my dear, from anyone likely to put a sharp knife into the sacred, tender vision of your beautiful heart.
— Hafez
Wonderful Budding quotations
The proper education of the young does not consist in stuffing their heads with a mass of words, sentences, and ideas dragged together out of various authors, but in opening up their understanding to the outer world, so that a living stream may flow from their own minds, just as leaves, flowers, and fruit spring from the bud on a tree.
Just as I wonder whether it's going to die, the orchid blossoms and I can't explain why it moves my heart, why such pleasure comes from one small bud on a long spindly stem, one blood red gold flower opening at mid-summer, tiny, perfect in its hour.
Sometimes sushi is just superb, and other times there's nothing like a great big steak. It depends where your taste buds are at the time.
And so, lifting as we climb, onward and upward we go, struggling and striving, and hoping that the buds and blossoms of our desires will burst into glorious fruition ere long.
Don't try to force anything. Let life be a deep let-go. God opens millions of flowers everyday without forcing their buds
If you take any flower you please and look it over and turn it about and smell it and feel it and try to find out all its little secrets, not of flower only but of leaf, bud and stem as well, you will discover many wonderful things. This is how you make friends with plants, and very good friends you will find them to the end of our lives.
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
What is this precious love and laughter budding in our hearts? It is the glorious sound of a soul waking up!
Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun.
Thought is the blossom; language the bud; action the fruit behind it.
Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath;
Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lies in sweetest bud. All men make faults.
That age is best which is the first When youth and blood are warmer.
Creativity is so delicate a flower that praise tends to make it bloom, while discouragement often nips it in the bud.
Then be not coy, but use your time; And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
Each one of us has it in themselves to be a free spirit, just as every rose bud has in it a rose.
But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
It takes courage to push yourself to places you have never been before.
.. to test your limits... to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to stay tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath;
Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
Once we hit forty, women only have about four taste buds left: one for vodka, one for wine, one for cheese, and one for chocolate.
Patience doesn't mean making a pact with the devil of denial, ignoring our emotions and aspirations. It means being wholeheartedly engaged in the process that's unfolding, rather than ripping open a budding flower or demanding a caterpillar hurry up and get that chrysalis stage over with.
When my way is too rough for my feet, or too steep for my strength, I get off it to some smooth velvet path which fancy has scattered over with rosebuds of delights; and, having taken a few turns in it, come back strengthened and refreshed.
I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded;
not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.
The movements of some more little red birds in the garden, like animated rosebuds, appeared unbearably jittery and thievish. It was as though the creatures were attached by sensitive wires to his nerves.
Your new CD is a weed plate, nothin' but love songs, 100% pure garbage, just something to break up buds on.
Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining, Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day, Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining, Buds that open only to decay.
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
The bud of victory is always in the truth.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring, And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing briar, And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring.
My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk: Truly my life is void and brief And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see: Yet rise it shall - the sap of Spring; O Jesus, rise in me.
When the April wind wakes the call for the soil, I hold the plough as my only hold upon the earth, and, as I follow through the fresh and fragrant furrow, I am planted with every foot-step, growing, budding, blooming into a spirit of spring.
Run my dear, From anything That may not strengthen Your precious budding wings.