Yonans Floral Quotes

Doesn't this place give you the creeps? You could perhaps do something with some floral wallpaper and a fire-bomb. ~ Terry Pratchett

Swish floral curtain with laces dancing out on air but is tied to its past interwoven with numerous rings of attachments. ~ Suyasha Subedi

He slipped his arms into the scarlet woollen cassock and fastened the thirty-three buttons that ran from his neck to his ankles - one button for each year of Christ's life. Around his waist he tied the red watered-silk sash of the cincture, or fascia, designed to remind him of his vow of chastity, and checked to make sure its tasselled end hung to a point midway up his left calf. Then he pulled over his head the thin white linen rochet - the symbol, along with the mozzetta, of his judicial authority. The bottom two-thirds and the cuffs were of white lace with a floral pattern. He tied the tapes in a bow at his neck and tugged the rochet down so that it extended to just below his knees. Finally he put on his mozzetta, an elbow-length nine-buttoned scarlet cape. ~ Robert Harris

The warmth of my love will transform winter into spring and adorn you with floral blooms of my heart. ~ Debasish Mridha

The room was two-tiered,
its marble balconies filled with rams and water nymphs in fancy
dress; a kaleidoscope of colours swayed in time to the beat of
hypnotic music. A concerto of absent musicians, it played only in
her mind. The numerous chandeliers with sculptured metal frames
hung down from chains, with endless fireflies attached. At the far
end stretched a grand staircase, dressed with a plush velvet carpet
in deep cerise, and ceiling paintings edged with gold embossed
dado rails clung to the walls.
Then Eve honed in on herself and saw that she wore a crushed
white taffeta A-line gown that fit her trim figure like a glove. Her
butterfly mask with floral patterns embroidered in red and gold
silk sat against her pale skin, her reflection like that of a porcelain
doll. A matching shawl rested softly on her shoulders. Everything
was so beautiful that she almost totally lost herself in the mirror's
reflection."

(little snippet from our book) ~ L. Wells

One of the floral arrangements swayed like a drunken sailor, then toppled, clattering to the floor. ~ Diana Dempsey

Darwin's Bestiary

PROLOGUE


Animals tame and animals feral
prowled the Dark Ages in search of a moral:
the canine was Loyal, the lion was Virile,
rabbits were Potent and gryphons were Sterile.
Sloth, Envy, Gluttony, Pride - every peril
was fleshed into something phantasmic and rural,
while Courage, Devotion, Thrift - every bright laurel
crowned a creature in some mythological mural.


Scientists think there is something immoral
in singular brutes having meat that is plural:
beasts are mere beasts, just as flowers are floral.
Yet between the lines there's an implicit demurral;
the habit stays with us, albeit it's puerile:
when Darwin saw squirrels, he saw more than Squirrel.



1. THE ANT


The ant, Darwin reminded us,
defies all simple-mindedness:
Take nothing (says the ant) on faith,
and never trust a simple truth.
The PR men of bestiaries
eulogized for centuries
this busy little paragon,
nature's proletarian -
but look here, Darwin said: some ants
make slaves of smaller ants, and end
exploiting in their peonages
the sweating brows of their tiny drudges.


Thus the ant speaks out of both
sides of its mealy little mouth:
its example is extolled
to the workers of the world,
but its habits also preach
the virtues of ~ Philip Appleman

By the time everyone was ready to leave, I was filling the last cream puff with pale green pastry cream. I licked a bit off my finger. It was good- an intriguing mix of warm pistachio, floral cardamom, and invigorating ginger. And ginger, of course, was a root. I only wished I knew what The Book would say about it. And was it good enough? Spotting the last of Mom's batch of kulfi- Indian ice cream made of thick sweetened cream and flavored with pistachio, ginger, and cardamom- had inspired me to make a pastry cream with the same flavors. ~ Rajani LaRocca

He opened the little box, popped the chocolate into his mouth, and made a face. "Oh! That's bitter. Must be extra-extra-dark. But there's a very sweet center that tastes of almonds and honey, and..." He smacked his lips. "Something floral."
I was glad I hadn't eaten it myself. I hated bitter chocolate except as a garnish. ~ Rajani LaRocca

The wind languished. The floral curtain ceased flapping. The moonlight streamed through, lighting up her face. It was a young, animated face. At that moment, it touched a string, a peg, deep inside him. ~ Qiu Xiaolong

You could practically see the neurons firing in the kid's skull. His body was all spring and torque, a bundle of fast-twitch muscles that exuded faint floral whiffs of ripe pear. So much perfection in such a compact little person - Billy had to tackle him from time to time, wrestle him squealing to the ground just to get that little rascal in his hands, just your basic adorable thirty-month old with big blue eyes clear as chlorine pools and Huggies poking out of his stretchy-waist jeans. So is this what they meant by the sanctity of life? ~ Ben Fountain

I love how Vietnamese cuisine always tastes like flowers, and how they had the ingenious idea of pairing that floral flavor with seafood: such a combination shouldn't work as well as it does. ~ Hanya Yanagihara

Tropical trees had been planted throughout the room, along with bright flowering plants that were busy committing the olfactory floral equivalent of aggravated assault. ~ Jim Butcher

He had a gray face. As his sullen eyes, sunken into the shallow holes formed from years of suffering stared at me, from behind the dark lenses, I could feel myself being penetrated. Not in my pussy - though it was wet, stirred by the violent tension - I was being penetrated by his gaze. The gray faced one was fucking me with his mind, and the feeling of abject violation was grotesque. Despite my arousal, I could not deal with the unwanted intrusion on my personhood. I smiled, and gently led him by hand into the kitchen. The wallpaper was floral, in varying shades of orange and light brown. I gently guided one of his hands, to the moist slit between my legs, and I could feel his glee as it slid inside. And at that moment, I hit the switch. His other hand was completely shredded to bits of bone and flesh by the garbage disposal, spurting blood like a broken pipeline, an unstoppable wave of red. He died with 2 fingers inside me. ~ Klusterfvk, Bamafuk

The white marble surface was inlaid with semiprecious stones in seamless floral designs and in chaste calligraphy, shaped stones, jeweled stones, delicate and free-figured. The surface ran cool and smooth. Traceries of black Koranic figures covered the longer sides of the tomb with a smaller group on top. My hand moved slowly over the words, feeling for breaks between the inlay and marble, not to fault the craftsmen, of course, but only to find the human labor, the individual, in the wholeness and beauty of the tomb. ~ Don DeLillo

The pleasure of holding her washed through him in repeated waves. She was petite and fine-boned, the delicious fragrance of roses rising to his nostrils. He'd noticed it when he'd held her earlier... not a cloying perfume, but a light floral essence swept with the sharp freshness of winter air. ~ Lisa Kleypas

She hated perfume. It was a cover for poor hygiene or for body shame. Clean people never aspired to the floral. ~ Lauren Groff

The postmistress was a large, zaftig woman with long, grayish blond hair and a floating, floral style of dress. ~ Dana Stabenow

I turned my focus to clothes, immediately endeavoring to find just the right dress for the occasion. This was huge--my debut as the girlfriend of Marlboro Man--and I shopped with that in mind. Should I go for a sleek, sexy suit? That might seem too confident and brazen. A floral silk skirt? Too obvious for a wedding. A little black dress? Too conservative and safe. The options pummeled my brain as I browsed the choices on the racks. I tried on dress after dress, suit after suit, outfit after outfit, my frustration growing more acute with each zip of the zipper. I wanted to be a man. Men don't agonize over what to wear to a wedding. They don't spend seven hours trying on clothes. They don't think of wardrobe choices as life-or-death decisions.
That's when I found it: a drop-dead gorgeous fitted suit the exact color of a stick of butter. It was snug, with just a slight hint of sexy, but the lovely, pure color made up for it. The fabric was a lightweight wool, but since the wedding would be at night, I knew it would be just fine. I loved the suit--not only would I feel pretty for Marlboro Man, but I'd also appear moderately, but not overly, confident to all his cousins, and appropriate and proper to his elderly grandmothers. ~ Ree Drummond

I was meant to date the captain of the football team, I was going to be on a romantic excursion every Saturday night, I was destined to be collecting corsages from every boy in town before prom, accepting such floral offerings like competing sacrifices to a Delphic goddess. ~ Elizabeth Wurtzel

. . . may causality forbid Commandant ever dispatch me to one of your viny-hivey elfworlds, profusely floral, all arcing elder trees, neural pollen, bees gathering memories from eyes and tongue, honey libraries dripping knowledge from the comb. ~ Amal El-Mohtar

When sometimes I stroll in silence, with you
Through great floral meadows of open country
I listen to your chatter, and give thanks to the gods
For the honest friendship, which made you my companion
But in the heavy fragrance of intoxicating night
I search on your lip for a madder caress
I tear secrets from your yielding flesh
Giving thanks to the fate which made you my mistress ~ Vita Sackville-West

It was there, in the parlors of the funeral home---my daily stations with the local lately dead---that the darkness would often give way to light. A fellow citizen outstretched in his casket, surrounded by floral tributes, waiting for the homages and obsequies, would speak to me in the silent code of the dead: "So, you think you're having a bad day?" The gloom would lift inexplicably. Here was one to whom the worst had happened, often in a variety of ways, and yet no word of complaint was heard from out the corpse. Nor did the world end, nor the sky fall, nor his or her people become blighted entirely. Life, it turns out, goes on with or without us. There is at least as much to be thankful for as wary of. ~ Thomas Lynch

Long-range missiles with hybrid thermonuclear and necromantic payloads. Grafted and crossbred infantry divisions. Strategic alliances with folkloric, extraplanar, and subterranean entities. Field deployment of weaponized paleofauna. Large-scale saturation of target areas with invasive fungal and floral xeno organisms. Megadeaths and mega-undeaths. This is the Cold War now. An American president must be found who, whatever his other qualifications, is prepared to maintain our competitiveness in this area. I'm afraid that that person is you. ~ Austin Grossman

Personally, I don't really have a set style or look. It's pretty much what I feel like wearing that day, from a floral-print dress and high heels to ripped jeans and army boots. ~ Shay Mitchell

Fine!" she shouted at it.
"Okay!" shouted a man in a nearby booth at a stain on his tie.
In the kitchen, another man, in a floral apron and a hairnet, nodded at a tub of soaking dishes "Yep," he said.
People often found themselves assenting to inanimate objects in the Moonlight All-Nite. ~ Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor

After Ive enjoyed a floral bouquet to its fullest, I drop a few petals in a bottle with distilled water to create my own soothing toner. ~ Megalyn Echikunwoke

I almost cried. But I didn't, because if you're in seventh grade and you cry while wearing a blue floral cape and yellow tights with white feathers on the butt, you just have to curl up and die somewhere in a dark alley. ~ Gary D. Schmidt

I love like the 80s look - 80s and early 90s, like the high-waisted jeans and the crop tops, and the floral prints, and flowers and stuff like that. Big baggy jumpers ... yeah, stuff like that. ~ Perrie Edwards

Jem tugged the floral curtains open just above Mum's bed. She stretched and said, "Oh!" because there is something especially cosy about pulling open floral curtains in your camper van and finding the Mediterranean Sea shining hundreds of feet below you and seabirds twirling all around you. Especially if the kettle has just boiled. ~ Frank Cottrell Boyce

Amma … I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm a feminist too." Amma stared at her, her eyes wide in horror. She didn't notice when the red floral dupatta of her salwar kameez slipped off one shoulder. "Sweetie! Feminists don't get married. Stop that nonsense." Sweetie did laugh then, openly. "Amma, what the heck are you talking about? Feminists can do whatever they want. They just want equal rights for women. ~ Sandhya Menon

I like very girly, retro inspired, feminine, floral things. I'm not very edgy. ~ Ariana Grande

Do not worry about your contradictions - Persephone is both floral maiden and queen of death. You, too, can be both. ~ Nichole McElhaney

The polishedness and the sophistication were what I was interested in. I mean, give me a polka dot, a floral print, a pleated dress, a big fur coat, that was always my language, and it wasn't very "in" when I was starting out, so I had a difficult time in the beginning. ~ Jason Wu

For these dances the boys send corsages, which I keep afterward and keep in my bureau drawer; squashed carnations and brown-edged rosebuds, wads of dead vegetation, like a collection of floral shrunken heads. ~ Margaret Atwood

I walked back to the front of the bakery to see a knot of people stalking our display for June. Apricot and lavender might seem like an unusual pairing, but it made perfect sense to me. Luscious, sweet apricots taste best when they're baked and the flavor is concentrated. On the other hand, lavender likes it cool; the buds have a floral, almost astringent flavor. Lavender was a line drawing that I filled in with brushstrokes of lush apricot. ~ Judith Fertig

That's how two vampires, a medium, and a dog came to sit around a Ouija board in the back room of a floral shop. ~ Jeaniene Frost

Commander Lebedev wrote - 'After a communication session we invited Flight Engineer Savitskaya to the heavily laden table. We gave Sveta a blue floral print apron and told her, " 'Look, Sveta, even though you are a pilot and cosmonaut, you are still a woman first. Would you please do us the honor of being our hostess tonight?' "
"Ouch," says Roth ~ Dan Simmons

His eyes were warm as he gazed at me. "I would do anything for you, don't ever forget that." Emil moved closer, gently tucking the rose behind my ear. The floral scent perfumed every breath I took as Emil brushed his thumb lightly over my lips. "Evie, I lost you once, I won't
lose you again. Even if it takes a thousand years to earn your trust and win you back, I'll do it. You're the only person in my life who matters.
You're the only person who ever has. I love you. Emil ~ Angela Corbett

Quaint and picturesque, though I didn't voice my opinion out loud. Keirran and Annwyl were faeries, and Kenzie was a girl, so it was okay for them to notice such things. as a card-carrying guy club, I wasn't going to comment on the floral arrangements. ~ Julie Kagawa

I was a total floral hippie as a child so when I finally could make my own choices, I've been living in different black suit jackets and been really drawn to masculine clothes. ~ Lykke Li

Over the past 30 years, hand grenades, tanks, fighter jets, missiles, helicopters and assault rifles have replaced traditional floral patterns in rug making and other textiles. Depicting these realities of war has helped the Afghan people to survive during times of conflict. ~ Henri Cole

Therefore, since I could count on no continuity of sapient will to carry me through, indeed since all that was certain was that I must suffer repeated loss of same in order to maintain my body's vitality, my only course was to accomplish with what I hoped was the greater puissance of conscious craft what I had already once barely managed to achieve by accident of fate.

Which was to use these periods of conscious lucidity to engrave a mantric tropism upon the presentient levels of my mind with perpetual chanting repetition and diligent meditation, so that even when reason and conscious will had once more fled, my Bloomenkind self would, during periods of enforced floral nirvana, be programmed to follow the yellow, to follow the sun that sooner or later must rise during a cycle of such meditations into its percept sphere.

"Follow the sun, follow the yellow, follow the Yellow Brick Road ... ~ Norman Spinrad

I arrived back home just before midnight, and Marlboro Man met me at the car. I could hear nothing but cows and crickets when I climbed out of my car and into his arms, which were strong and warm and comforting. I was a wreck--sick to my stomach and even more sick in my heart--and Marlboro Man helped me to the house, as if I were crippled by a terminal illness. I was completely beat, hardly able to finish my shower before I fell into bed with Marlboro Man, who rubbed my back as I tried with all my might to keep from throwing up, breaking down, and completely saturating my red floral pillowcase with tears. ~ Ree Drummond

What finally prompted me to lose weight was a view of myself in a hairdresser's full-length mirror when I was seated and wearing one of the salon's floral print robes and realized that I looked like a slipcovered club chair. ~ Mimi Sheraton

It's so cliche to say florals for spring. I really like a vintage-like dress that's floral. You can belt it; I like belts. I like wearing pretty dresses that are really comfortable, that you can spend the day in but also feel girly. ~ Brittany Snow

When I turned toward the hurt in the silence, I entered a kind of tenderness that was not sore, not wounded, but rather powerfully present.I sat up straight. The silence had tilled hard ground into soft soil. I sunk deep into the soft ground, where the source of life was revealed--wordless, nameless, without form, completely indescribable. And then--I dare to say it--I was 'completely tender.' To ease below the surface of my embodiment--my face, my flesh, my skin, my name--I needed to first see it reflected back at me. I had to look at it long enough to see the soft patches, the openings, the soft, tender ground. Would I survive the namelessness--without my body, without my heart--while engaging the beautiful, floral exterior of my life? Fear and caution were attempting to shut down the experience of uncoupling my heart from mistreatment and discrimination--from the disregard, hurt, and separation that I experienced and accepted as my one-sided life. I was going back to the moment before I was born, when I was connected to something other than my parents or my people. ~ Zenju Earthlyn Manuel