Forsythia is pure joy.
There is not an ounce, not a glimmer of sadness or even knowledge in forsythia.
Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.
- Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Today as in the time of Pliny and Columella, the hyacinth flourishes in Wales, the periwinkle in Illyria, the daisy on the ruins of Numantia,
while around them cities have changed their masters and their names, collided and smashed, disappeared into nothingness,
their peaceful generations have crossed down the ages as fresh and smiling as on the days of battle.
- Edgar Quinet
Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there.
- Francis Thompson
You love the roses - so do I.
I wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain from off the shaken bush.
Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white and soft to tread on.
They would fall as light as feathers, smelling sweet, and it would be like sleeping and like waking, all at once!
- George Eliot