Charles Dickens Quotes About Flowers

• The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The light, creation's mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power.

  Charles Dickens

  Nature, Flower, Sleep

  Charles Dickens (1868). “The Old Curiosity Shop: And Reprinted Pieces”, p.70

• Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.

  Charles Dickens

  Flower, Memorable, Thinking

  Charles Dickens (2016). “British Classics: Great Expectations”, p.62, The Planet

• I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes.

  Charles Dickens

  Flower, Eye, Scary

  Charles Dickens (1881). “Great Expectations”, p.78

• The rich, sweet smell of the hayricks rose to his chamber window; the hundred perfumes of the little flower-garden beneath scented the air around; the deep-green meadows shone in the morning dew that glistened on every leaf as it trembled in the gentle air: and the birds sang as if every sparkling drop were a fountain of inspiration to them.

  Charles Dickens

  Sweet, Morning, Nature

  Charles Dickens (1838). “The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club”, p.52

• I found every breath of air, and every scent, and every flower and leaf and blade of grass and every passing cloud, and everything in nature, more beautiful and wonderful to me than I had ever found it yet. This was my first gain from my illness. How little I had lost, when the wide world was so full of delight for me.

  Charles Dickens

  Beautiful, Flower, Clouds

  Charles Dickens (1853). “Bleak House”, p.353

• For a long time, no village girl would dress her hair or bosom with the sweetest flower from that field of death: and after many a year had come and gone, the berries growing there, were still believed to leave too deep a stain upon the hand that plucked them.

  Charles Dickens

  Girl, Flower, Hair

  Charles Dickens (1852). “Christmas Books”, p.160

• On summer evenings, when every flower, and tree, and bird, might have better addressed my soft young heart, I have in my day been caught in the palm of a female hand by the crown, have been violently scrubbed from the neck to the roots of the hair as a purification for the Temple, and have then been carried off highly charged with saponaceous electricity, to be steamed like a potato in the unventilated breath of the powerful Boanerges Boiler and his congregation, until what small mind I had, was quite steamed out of me

  Charles Dickens

  Funny, Summer, Powerful

  Charles Dickens (1870). “Novels”, p.57

• It being a part of Mrs. Pipchin's system not to encourage a child's mind to develop and expand itself like a young flower, but to open it by force like an oyster.

  Charles Dickens

  Funny, Children, Humorous

  Charles Dickens (1867). “Charles Dickens's works. Charles Dickens ed. [18 vols. of a 21 vol. set. Wanting A child's history of England; Christmas stories; The mystery of Edwin Drood].”, p.65

• There once was a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water; they wondered at the goodness and the power of God who made the lovely world.

  Charles Dickens

  Children, Flower, Sky

  Charles Dickens (1868). “Old Curiosity Shop”, p.238

• While the flowers, pale and unreal in the moonlight, floated away upon the river; and thus do greater things that once were in our breasts, and near our hearts, flow from us to the eternal sea.

  Charles Dickens

  Life, Flower, Heart

  Charles Dickens (1996). “Little Dorrit”, p.320, Wordsworth Editions

• It is when our budding hopes are nipped beyond recovery by some rough wind, that we are the most disposed to picture to ourselves what flowers they might have borne, if they had flourished . . .

  Charles Dickens

  Get Well, Flower, Recovery

  Charles Dickens (1859). “Dombey and Son”, p.142

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