Marigolds Quotes

then flats of marigolds and petunias. Made of sterner stuff, I figured, their sort might survive my regime of horticultural neglect. ~ Kathy Reichs

Once, I discovered it propped up on my sister's pillow, its neck wrapped in one of our mother's best linen dishtowels. Cookie fragments on dolls' plates were laid out around it, mixed with berries from the prickly-berry hedge, like offerings made to appease an idol. It was wearing a chaplet woven of carrot fronds and marigolds that my sister and Leonie had picked in the garden. The flowers were wilted, the garland was lopsided; the effect was astonishingly depraved, as if a debauched Roman emperor had arrived on the scene and had hacked off his own body in a maiden's chamber as the ultimate sexual thrill. ~ Margaret Atwood

Then think of this as an adventure." I kissed hi cheek. "So which flower should I be?"
He curled me close to his chest, nuzzling his face into my hair. "Mmmm, can't you be all of them? My own bouquet of beauty? Like daisies opening their friendly petals." He brushed his fingertips over my eyelids. "Or marigolds that burn like the summer sun." He rubbed his hands over my back. "Or orchids-rare and exotic." He traced a finger across my collarbone down to rest lightly on the locket I wore all the time. "Roses for passion." He kissed me. ~ Lisa Mangum

Each character I play I approach differently and separately. I think Marigold is a simpler character for a sweet little movie, and I'm excited to be part of it. In terms of Heroes it's been such an amazing journey on that show. I love working on it and at this point I know I'm coming to Asia and some of the other cast are going to Europe for the world tour to release the DVD. ~ Ali Larter

Tell me about the farm," she pleaded as drops of blood began to appear on her hand.
"The farm?"
"The farm that Finnikin the peasant would have lived on with his bride."
"Evanjalin. That was her name. Did I mention that?"
She laughed through a sob. "No, you didn't."
"They would plant rows upon rows of wheat and barley, and each night they would sit under the stars to admire what they owned. Oh, and they would argue. She believes the money made would be better spent on a horse, and he believes they need a new barn. But then later they would forget all their anger and he would hold her fiercely and never let her go."
"And he'd place marigolds in her hair?" she asked.
He clasped her hands against his and watched her blood seep through the lines of his skin. "And he would love her until the day he died," he said. ~ Melina Marchetta

Wondering When the Strings Will Snap" poem:

"The marigolds herald autumn's colors already
In their sun-shrine faces, iconographic
Floral worship of their distant deity -- yet they
Die at the first touch of frost, unlike chrysanthemums,
The true flowers of fall. ~ Elizabeth Barrette

...She believes the money made would be better spent on a horse, and he believes they need a new barn. But then later they would forget all their anger and he would hold her fiercely and never let her go."

"And he'd place marigolds in her hair?" she asked. He clasped her hands against his and watched her blood seep through the lines of his skin.

"And he would love her until the day he died," he said. He placed his other bloody hand against those imprinted for eternity on the kingdom walls ~ Melina Marchetta

All right, silent dark bear with angry frown, tell me more about your land."

He settled back down, picturing it. "I would tend to our land from the moment the sun rose to when it set and then you ...she would tend to me."

He laughed at her expression again. The world of exile camps and the Valley felt very far away, and he wanted to lie there forever.

"Let me tell you about your bride," she said, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Both of you would cultivate the land. You would hold the plow, and she would walk alongside you with the ox, coaxing and singing it forward. A stick in her hand, of course, for she would need to keep both the ox and you in line."

"What would we...that is, my bride and I, grow?"

"Wheat and barley."
"And marigolds."
Her nose crinkled questioningly.

"I would pick them when they bloomed," he said. "And when she called me home for supper, I'd place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away."

"How would she call you? From your cottage? Would she bellow, 'Finnikin!'?"

"I'd teach her the whistle. One for day and one for night."

"Ah, the whistle, of course. I'd forgotten the whistle. ~ Melina Marchetta

And what is this wild summons? What art is asked of us? The gift offered is different for each but all are equal in grandeur. To paint, draw, dance, compose. To write songs, poems, letters, diaries, prayers. To set a violet on the sill, stitch a quilt,; bake bread; plant marigolds, beans, apple trees. To follow the track of the forest elk, the neighborhood coyote, the cupboard mouse. To open the windows, air beds, sweep clean the corners. To hold the child's hand, listen to the vagrant's story, paint the elder friend's fingernails a delightful shade of pink while wrapped in a blanket she knit with deft young fingers of her past. To wander paths, nibble purslane, notice spiders. To be rained upon. To listen with changed ears and sing back what we hear. ~ Lyanda Lynn Haupt

Yellow is my favorite, but what is yellow? Handmaiden to white, it is a slight tarnish of pure light. Take away a bit of whites absolute luminosity, and what remains is yellow
sunlike, golden as a crown, buttercups in a field, marsh marigolds, a finch's wing, a plastic flute. ~ Richard Grossinger

It does not matter if you are a rose or a lotus or a marigold. What matters is that you are flowering. ~ Rajneesh

Sadly enough, my young friends, it is a characteristic of our age that if people want any gods at all, they want them to be gods who do not demand much, comfortable gods, smooth gods who not only don't rock the boat but don't even row it, gods who pat us on the head, make us giggle, then tell us to run along and pick marigolds. ~ Jeffrey R. Holland

Mount Pleasant was an older town, where no two houses, standing side by side, seemed to come out of the same architectural style, with nineteenth-century Victorians up against pastel-colored postwar ramblers. Most of the houses had traditional flower gardens with marigolds and zinnias, and some with head-high sunflowers. ~ John Sandford

In return, Joe taught Jay more about the garden. Slowly the boy learned to tell lavender from rosemary from hyssop from sage. He learned to taste soil- a pinch between the finger and thumb slipped under the tongue, like a man testing fine tobacco- to determine its acidity. He learned how to calm a headache with crushed lavender, or a stomachache with peppermint. He learned to prepare skullcap tea and chamomile to aid sleep. He learned to plant marigolds in the potato patch to discourage parasites and to pick nettles from the top to make ale and to fork the sign against the evil eye if ever a magpie flew past. ~ Joanne Harris

We've told men for so long that we're equal, we can open our own doors, carry our own bags, pay our own way, that now they're afraid to offer in case we accuse them of sex discrimination. If you were a man would you buy a woman underwear? I wouldn't dare. What if she throws it back in your face and calls you a sexist pig? So they've tried to turn into new men, but that's no good either, because now we're telling them to be masculine. We don't just want them in a pair of Marigolds cleaning the oven, that's not good enough. We want them to take control, to whisk us off hotels, buy us dinner, and make mad passionate love to us all night. We want it all ways. We want them heroes and handy with the vacuum. No wonder the poor guys are confused ~ Alexandra Potter

Had she never been hungry enough to eat a flower? Did she not know that you could eat daisies, daylilies, pansies, and marigolds? That hungry enough, a person could consume the bright faces of violas, even the stems of dandelions and the bitter hips of roses? ~ Adam Johnson

There was a dance of great plummy boughs in the western wind. And there was a sound not heard for a long time-Marigold's laughter as she waved goodnight to Sylvia over the Green Gate. ~ L.M. Montgomery

But she went and fetched some marigolds from her own little garden, and put them in a vase on the chest of drawers, for she knew there was lots of room for love, even if there was not much for great-aunties. ~ Joyce Lankester Brisley

Rot dead marigolds- an acre at a time! Gold are you? ~ William Carlos Williams

She thinks of her mother, sitting cross-legged, sewing marigolds into garlands for the gods, telling her: "The biggest mistake we make is thinking we are powerless ~ Isha Karki

Find her with the flowers.
The roses,
The marigolds.
Find her telling stories that
She's never before told.
Find her when she is vulnerable
And honest
And true.

When you find this girl,
Just know
I'd keep her close
If I were you.

She'll write a tale in growing time that
Almost seems to last forever.
Don't ask her when she will stop daydreaming.
She will simply look at you
And say,
"never"
Because forever in her fairy tales
the girl with the flowers will be.
Finding things of inspiration
To keep her heart beating
And her spirits light
Humming a simple harmony. ~ Alice Tyszka

In January the lavender heather and white candytufts would bloom. February perked up the plum tree, and March would bring forth the daffodils, narcissus, and moonlight bloom. April lilacs and sugartuft would blossom along with the pink and bloodred rhododendrons, bluebells, and the apple tree in the victory garden. As the weather warmed, miniature purple irises would rise amid the volunteers of white alyssum and verbena. The roses, dahlias, white Shasta daisies, black-eyed Susans, and marigolds would bloom from late spring to early fall. Leota could see it. She knew exactly ~ Francine Rivers

Victoria Park looks like every other inner-city park in every other city in Canada; a large and handsome memorial to the war dead surrounded by a square block of hard-tracked grass and benches where people can sit and look at statues of politicians or at flower beds planted with petunias and marigolds, the cheap and the hardy, downtown survivors. ~ Gail Bowen

Mistress Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With Silver Bells, and Cockle Shells,
And marigolds all in a row. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett

For some reason he remembered the Mexican name for carnations. Somebody must have told him when he was a kid. They were called Nails of Love ---and marigolds , the Nails of Death. It was a word lie nails---claveles. Maybe he'd better put marigolds on his mothers grave. ~ John Steinbeck

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side. ~ Jean Ingelow

She liked anything orange: leaves; some moons; marigolds; chrysanthemums; cheese; pumpkin, both in pie and out; orange juice; marmalade. Orange is bright and demanding. You can't ignore orange things. She once saw an orange parrot in the pet store and had never wanted anything so much in her life. She would have named it Halloween and fed it butterscotch. Her mother said butterscotch would make a bird sick and, besides, the dog would certainly eat it up. September never spoke to the dog again - on principle. ~ Catherynne M Valente