J. R. R. Tolkien Quotes

Gardening was something I learned in my youth when I was unhappy. I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

Why lily?” “It’s the most sacred and beautiful of all flowers in Egypt. They bloom in mud and shine in the darkness like a gift from the gods to remind you that no matter how bad something is, it will get better. That no matter how dark the night, the light will come for you. If you partake of them, they have the power to calm and soothe you, and to heal your wounds.” When he spoke his next words, they were laced with emotion and sincerity. “You are, and will always be, my sšn.

The thorn is a bridge spanning the muddy depths of agony and sorrow so that one may on the other side dance to the drums of the rose of joy.

Not to be born is undoubtedly the best plan of all. Unfortunately, it is within no one's reach.

Sorrows are gardeners: they plant flowers along waste places, and teach vines to cover barren heaps.

Love drips & gathers, but the fallen blood Shall calm her sores..." -Thomas, The Force that through the green fuse drives the flower.

It seemed cruel for a day to dawn so fair and end so foul as this one promised to.

The essence of dramatic tragedy is not unhappiness. It resides in the solemnity of the remorseless working of things.

No one is content with his own lot.

No matter what is happening now, events will ultimately bend toward love the way a flower bends toward sunlight.

since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry --the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter which says we are for eachother: then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis

God has commanded Time to console the afflicted.

My life was hurrying, racing tragically toward its end. And yet at the same time it was dripping so slowly, so very slowly now, hour by hour, minute by minute. One always has to wait until the sugar melts, the memory dies, the wound scars over, the sun sets, the unhappiness lifts and fades away.

Gardening is akin to writing stories. No experience could have taught me more about grief or flowers, about achieving survival by going, your fingers in the ground, the limit of physical exhaustion.

As you grow older, it becomes harder to feel 100 percent happy; you learn all the things that can go wrong, you become superstitious about tempting fate, about bringing disaster upon your life by accidentally feeling too good one day.

That queen of secrecy, the violet.

Men see things late, and it may be that at times an evil fate drives them on.

Medicines may be necessary. Flowers lift the heart. But your smile is the best restorative of all.

How true it is that, sooner or later, the' most rebellious must bow beneath the yoke of misfortune!

Personality, too, is destiny.

Those who wander in the world avowedly and purposely in pursuit of happiness, who view every scene of present joy with an eye to what may succeed, certainly are more liable to disappointment, misfortune and unhappiness, than those who give up their fate to chance and take the goods and evils of fortune as they come, without making happiness their study, or misery their foresight.

When a man is ill,he has only one wish -to gain health,and when he does -then come a hundred wishes and he turns even unhappier than when he was lying sick in bed

If there were nothing else to trouble us, the fate of the flowers would make us sad.