quote by Matsuo Basho

Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music

— Matsuo Basho

Most Powerful Petals quotations

Petals quote We wouldn't ask why a rose that grew from the concrete for having damaged petals

We wouldn't ask why a rose that grew from the concrete for having damaged petals, in turn, we would celebrate its tenacity, we would all love its will to reach the sun, well, we are the roses, this is the concrete and these are my damaged petals, don't ask me why, thank god, and ask me how.

Water surrounds the lotus flower, but does not wet its petals.

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

Do not go to the garden of flowers! O friend! go not there;

In your body is the garden of flowers. Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus, and there gaze on the infinite beauty.

The vulnerability of precious things is beautiful because vulnerability is a mark of existence. The destruction of Troy. The fall of the petals from fruit trees in blossom. To know that what is most precious is not rooted in existence - that is beautiful.

Her nakedness was not absolute, for like Manet's _Olympia__, behind her ear she had a poisonous flower with orange petals, and she also wore a gold bangle on her right wrist and a necklace of tiny pearls. I imagined I would never see anything more exciting for as long as I lived, and today I can confirm that I was right.

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.

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.

God is the Sun and when His rays fall upon your heart, not impeded by the clouds of egoism, the lotus blooms and the petals unfold.

Somewhere the sense makes copper roses steel roses — The rose carried weight of love but love is at an end — of roses It is at the edge of the petal that love waits.

All Nature bristles with the marks of interrogation-among the grass and the petals of flowers, amidst the feathers of birds and the hairs of mammals, on mountain and moorland, in sea and sky-everywhere. It is one of the joys of life to discover those marks of interrogation, these unsolved and half-solved problems and try to answer their questions.

You are a cosmic flower. Om chanting is the process of opening the psychic petals of that flower.

It's like if you plant something in the concrete and if it grow and the rose petal got all kinds of scratches and marks, you ain't gonna say, 'Damn, look at all the scratches and marks on the rose that grew from the concrete.' You're gonna be like, 'Damn, a rose grew from the concrete?'

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.

Don't go outside your house to see flowers.

My friend, don't bother with that excursion. Inside your body there are flowers. One flower has a thousand petals. That will do for a place to sit. Sitting there you will have a glimpse of beauty inside the body and out of it, before gardens and after gardens.

My tears are like the quiet drift of petals from some magic rose;

and all my grief flows from the rift of unremembered skies and snows. I think that if I touched the earth, it would crumble; it is so sad and beautiful, so tremulously like a dream.

You must be a lotus, unfolding its petals when the sun rises in the sky, unaffected by the slush where it is born or even the water which sustains it!

A rose dreams of enjoying the company of bees, but none appears.

The sun asks: “Aren’t you tired of waiting?” “Yes,” answers the rose, “but if I close my petals, I will wither and die.

Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.

As flowerlets drooped and puckered in the night turn up to the returning sun and spread their petals wide on his new warmth and light-just so my wilted spirits rose again and such a heat of zeal surged through my veins that I was born anew.

And the marvellous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky.

Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart

Time Like a petal in the wind Flows softly by As old lives are taken New ones begin A continual chain Which lasts throughout eternity Every life but a minute in time But each of equal importance

One who has never known the turbulence of life, in whom the petals of the mysterious flower within have never opened; such a one may seem happy, may seem a saint, his single track mind may impress the multitude with its power - but he is ill equipped for life's true adventure into the infinite.

Your own self-will and anxiety, your hurry and labor, disturb your peace and prevent Me from working in you. Look at the little flowers, in the serene summer days; they quietly open their petals, and the sun shines into them with its gentle influences. So I will do for you, if you will yield yourself to me.

Valentine's Day money-saving tip: Break up on February 13th, get back together on the 15th.

Rain scatters plum petals; Weeping stains the earth. One can only take shelter And wait for clearing.

Say not, I have found the path of the soul Say rather, I have met the soul walking upon my path.

Once a blooming red rose, full of streaming life in its veins.

Now a wilting black petal rupturing with death and pain.

Friendship is like a rose. . . opening one petal at a time, only as it unfolds. . . day by day it reveals its true beauty.

Every now and then we enter the presence of the numinous and deduce for an instant how we're formed, in what detail the force that infuses every petal might specifically run through us, wishing only to lure us into our full potential.

The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

Every moment of this strange and lovely life from dawn to dusk, is a miracle.

Somewhere, always a rose is opening its petals to the dawn. Somewhere, always, a flower is fading in the dusk.

If you have patience, then you'll also have love.

Patience leads to love. If you forcefully open the petals of a bud, you won't be able to enjoy its beauty and fragrance. Only when it blossoms by following its natural course, will the beauty and fragrance of a flower unfold.

The apple blossom exists to create fruit; when that comes, the petal falls.

It has been well said that an author who expects results from a first novel is in a position similar to that of a man who drops a rose petal down the Grand Canyon of Arizona and listens for the echo.

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