Wilhelm von Humboldt Quotes

Colors are the smiles of nature.

When I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat.

To me, flowers are happiness.

I always cry at weddings; they're beautiful, and I'm always moved.

I have a fondness for when the landscape becomes surreal.

Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.

Once in those very early days my brother brought into the nursery the lid of a biscuit tin which he had covered with moss and garnished with twigs and flowers so as to make it a toy garden or a toy forest. That was the first beauty I ever knew. What the real garden had failed to do, the toy garden did. It made me aware of nature-not, indeed, as a storehouse of forms and colors but as something cool, dewy, fresh, exuberant....As long as I live my imagination of Paradise will retain something of my brother's toy garden.

Half the interest of a garden is the constant exercise of the imagination.

It doesn't take any imagination at all to feel awed

To feel beauty is a better thing than to understand how we come to feel it. To have imagination and taste, to love the best, to be carried by the contemplation of nature to a vivid faith in the ideal, all this is more, a great deal more, than any science can hope to be.

In just - Spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee

Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.

I have sat here happy in the gardens, Watching the still pool and the reeds And the dark clouds. . . . But though I greatly delight In these and the water lilies, That which sets me nighest to weeping Is the rose and white colour of the smooth flag-stones, And the pale yellow grasses Among them.

Wind moving through grass so that the grass quivers. This moves me with an emotion I don't even understand.

Is it possible to say "It was a beautiful morning at the end of November" without feeling like Snoopy?

Yes, I'd love to have a garden of my own--spacious, and full of everything that is fragrant and flowering. But if I don't succeed, never mind--I've still got the dream.

All men are poets at heart. They serve nature for bread, but her loveliness overcomes them sometimes.

We feel the same emotions for our ideas as we do for the real world, which is why we can cry while reading a book, or fall in love with movie stars.

Clouds are poems, and the most moving poems linger on the blackboard so long, written in cursive so lovely, they also exist inside our fingertips. We never really erase them at the end of the lesson.

Love is like moonlight or thunder, or rain on a tin roof in the middle of the night; it is one of those things in life that is truly worth knowing.

My garden all is overblown with roses,/ My spirit all is overblown with rhyme.

Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?

Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own.

Do you suppose she's a wildflower?