
“It is not the tree that forsakes the flower, but the flower that forsakes the tree.”
Source: The Count of Monte Cristo
A New World (2000)
“It is not the tree that forsakes the flower, but the flower that forsakes the tree.”
Source: The Count of Monte Cristo
“Fire he sang,
that trees fear, and I, a tree, rejoiced in its flames.”
A Tree Telling of Orpheus (1968)
Context: Fire he sang,
that trees fear, and I, a tree, rejoiced in its flames.
New buds broke forth from me though it was full summer.
As though his lyre (now I knew its name)
were both frost and fire, its chords flamed
up to the crown of me.
I was seed again.
I was fern in the swamp.
I was coal.
[Swami Tapasyananda, Swami Nikhilananda, Sri Sarada Devi, the Holy Mother; Life and Conversations, 292]
“I am not a big banyan tree; I am a less green bush, the more you cut, the more I grow”
Quoted in Sangeeta Barooah Pisharoty, "Poetic identity," http://www.hindu.com/mag/2008/10/19/stories/2008101950080200.htmThe Hindu, India, 19 October 2008
“Under the olive trees, from the ground
Grows this flower, which is a wound.”
"The Coward"
The Still Centre (1939)
Context: Under the olive trees, from the ground
Grows this flower, which is a wound.
It is easier to ignore
Than the heroes' sunset fire
Of death plunged in their willed desire
Raging with flags on the world's shore.
"Black Cultural Nationalism" in The Black Aesthetic (1971)
"When First the Poets Sung", line 47.
These lines were repeatedly drawn on by Sitwell in his later works.
“Flowers are lovely; love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree”
"Youth and Age", st. 2 (1823–1832).
Context: Flowers are lovely; love is flower-like;
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
Oh the joys that came down shower-like,
Of friendship, love, and liberty,
Ere I was old!
“If you want to find Cherry-Tree Lane all you have to do is ask the Policeman at the cross-roads.”
Source: Mary Poppins (1934), Ch. 1 "East-Wind"
Context: If you want to find Cherry-Tree Lane all you have to do is ask the Policeman at the cross-roads. He will push his helmet slightly to one side, scratch his head thoughtfully, and then he will point his huge white-gloved finger and say: "First to your right, second to your left, sharp right again, and you're there. Good-morning."
And sure enough, if you follow his directions exactly, you will be there — right in the middle of Cherry-Tree Lane, where the houses run down one side and the Park runs down the other and the cherry-trees go dancing right down the middle.
If you are looking for Number Seventeen — and it is more than likely that you will be, for this book is all about that particular house — you will very soon find it.
“Moments like this are buds on the tree of life. Flowers of darkness they are.”
Source: Mrs. Dalloway