Asters Quotes

The aster greets us as we pass With her faint smile. ~ Sarah Helen Whitman

Leonard Aster thanked Fighting Prawn and the Mollusk tribe for their hospitality.
"You mean," said Fighting Prawn, "for not killing you?"
"Yes," said Leonard. "It was very gracious of you."
"Do you," said Leonard, "I mean, does you tribe, shake hands?"
"No," said Fighting Prawn. "We kiss on the lips."
"Oh," said Leonard, looking very alarmed. ~ Dave Barry

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod. ~ Helen Hunt Jackson

The noise of the trees, the breaking of moon into silver fish bouncing off the leaves of asters outside. ~ Michael Ondaatje

The lands are lit with all the autumn blaze of golden-rod, and everywhere the purple asters nod and bend and wave and flit. ~ Helen Hunt

Already the ripening barberries are red
And the old asters hardly breathe in their beds.
The man who is not rich now as summer goes
Will wait and wait and never be himself.

The man who cannot quietly close his eyes
certain that there is vision after vision inside,
simply waiting for nighttime
to rise all around him in darkness-
it's all over for him, he's like an old man.

Nothing else will come; no more days will open
and everything that does happen will cheat him.
Even you, my God. And you are like a stone
that draws him daily deeper into the depths. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

In the evening, I walked alone down to the Lake by the side of Crow Park after sunset and saw the solemn coloring of night draw on, the last gleam of sunshine fading away on the hilltops, the seep serene of the asters, and the long shadows of the mountains thrown across them, till they nearly touched the hithermost shore. At distance hear the murmur of many waterfalls not audible in the day-time. Wished for the moon, but she was dark to me and silent, hid in her vacant interlunar cave. ~ Thomas Gray

Asters

Asters - sweltering days

old adjuration/curse,

the gods hold the balance

for an uncertain hour.


Once more the golden flocks

of heaven, the light, the trim -

what is the ancient process

hatching under its dying wings?


Once more the yearned-for,

the intoxication, the rose of you -

summer leaned in the doorway

watching the swallows -


one more presentiment

where certainty is not hard to come by:

wing tips brush the face of the waters,

swallows sip speed and night. ~ Gottfried Benn

The man named Caravaggio pushes open all the windows in the room so he can hear the noises of the night. He undresses, rubs his palms gently over his neck and for a while lies down on the unmade bed. The noise of the trees, the breaking of moon into silver fish bouncing off the leaves of asters outside.

The moon is on him like skin, a sheaf of water. ~ Michael Ondaatje

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. ~ Bliss Carman

Red

Red is the wine, red are the carnations.
Red is beautiful. Red flowers and red.
Color itself is beautiful.
The red color is red.
Red is the flag, red the poppy.
Red are the lips and the mouth.
Red are the reality and the
Fall. Red are many Blue Leaves.

Yellow

Yellow is the sand of the earth.
Yellow is the color of the bronze forests.
Yellow is the hearts of flowers.
Yellow are the asters.
Yellow is the meadow. of money.
the franc is yellow.–brunette.
i have seen a yellow franc.
yellow is for example my pencil.

Violet

The color was rose-red
then blue came along and cried
viola viola violeta.
violet was lovely but only in the sky.
quite simply this color was
lovely you violet.
The cry of violet colors.

Blue

The Red Color.
The Yellow Color.
The Dark Green.
The Sky ELLENO
The Patentender
The Pedestal, The Ship.
The Rainbow.
The Sea
The Shoreleaves
The Water
The Leaf Vein
The Kleyf (R) "r."
The Locks + The Lock. ~ Herbeck

My life's long radiant Summer halts at last, And lo! beside my path way I behold Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold Has heralded her presence; but a vast Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold Subdues the vivid colouring of bold And passion-hued emotions. I will cast My August days behind me with my May, Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place, Nor swear I hope when I do but remember. Now violet and rose have had their day, I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace And call September nothing but September. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Wrapped in his sad-colored cloak, the Day, like a Puritan, standeth
Stern in the joyless fields, rebuking the lingering color,
Dying hectic of leaves and the chilly blue of the asters,
Hearing, perchance, the croak of a crow on the desolate tree-top. ~ Bayard Taylor