Poppies Quotes

• Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

  John Keats

  Dancing, Soul, Breeze

  John Keats (1818). “Endymion: A Poetic Romance”, p.30

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• Never be afraid to be a poppy in a field of daffodils.

  Michaela DePrince

  Flower, Differences, Fields

  "Four Young Ballerinas Celebrate Dancers Of Color Who Inspire Them" by Katherine Brooks, www.huffingtonpost.com. January 12, 2017.

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• I survived, carried on, glad to be like a weed, a wild red poppy, rooted in life.

  Marilyn Buck

  Weed, Red, Glad

  Marilyn Buck (2012). “Inside/Out: Selected Poems”, p.56, City Lights Publishers

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• And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy's bonfire spread.

  Bayard Taylor

  Tides, Bonfire, Scarlet

  Bayard Taylor (1857). “Poems of the Orient”, p.20

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• We cherish too, the Poppy red
  That grows on fields where valor led,
  It seems to signal to the skies
  That blood of heroes never dies.

  Moina Michael

  Memorial Day, Hero, Blood

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• Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed.

  Robert Burns

  Flow, Pleasure, Spread

  'Tam o' Shanter' (1791) l. 59

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• Of all the wonderful things in the wonderful universe of God, nothing seems to me more surprising than the planting of a seed in the blank earth and the result thereof. Take that Poppy seed, for instance: it lies in your palm, the merest atom of matter, hardly visible, a speck, a pin's point in bulk, but within it is imprisoned a spirit of beauty ineffable, which will break its bonds and emerge from the dark ground and blossom in a splendor so dazzling as to baffle all powers of description.

  Celia Thaxter

  Beauty, Lying, Dark

  Celia Thaxter (2008). “An Island Garden”, p.3, Applewood Books

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• But pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flower

  John Bunyan

  Flower, Pleasure, Spread

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• She was like a crinkled poppy; with the desire to drink dry dust.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dust, Desire, Dry

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.757, Wordsworth Editions

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• That we find a crystal or a poppy beautiful means that we are less alone, that we are more deeply inserted into existence than the course of a single life would lead us to believe.

  John Berger

  Beautiful, Nature, Believe

  John Berger (2008). “Selected Essays of John Berger”, p.569, Vintage

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• Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare, And left the flushed print in a poppy there. I will touch a hundred flowers And not pick one.

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Summer, Flower, Earth

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  But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.

  Robert Burns

  Flower, Fall, Rivers

  'Tam o' Shanter' (1791) l. 59

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• It is in the brain that the poppy is red, that the apple is odorous, that the skylark sings.

  Oscar Wilde

  Apples, Brain, Red

  Oscar Wilde (2004). “The Best of Oscar Wilde: Selected Plays and Writings”, p.9, Penguin

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• The man is a success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who leaves the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who looked for the best in others and gave the best he had.

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Love, Life, Success

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• When you go for a walk, take seeds with you, poppies, rainbow chard, rocket. Plant them among the weeds in patches of wasteland. See what happens.

  Tom Hodgkinson

  Weed, Inspiration, Rainbow

  Tom Hodgkinson (2006). “How to be Free”

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• In Flanders fields the poppies blow.

  John McCrae

  Blow, Fields, Larks

  "In Flanders Fields" l. 1 (1915)

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• Once in the dream of a night I stood
  Lone in the light of a magical wood,
  Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang;
  And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang,
  And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed,
  And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed
  In that magical wood in the land of sleep.

  Sarojini Naidu

  Dream, Stars, Sleep

  Sarojini Naidu (2017). “The Golden Threshold”, p.16, Library of Alexandria

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• I love color. It must submit to me. And I love art. I kneel before it, and it must become mine. Everything around me glows with passion. Every day reveals a new red flower, glowing, scarlet red. Everyone around me carries them. Some wear them quietly hidden in their hearts. And they are like poppies just opening, of which one can see only here and there a hint of red petal peeking out from the green bud.

  Paula Modersohn-Becker

  Art, Flower, Passion

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• In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place, and in the sky, The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard among the guns below.

  John McCrae

  Blow, Gun, Sky

  Punch 8 Dec. 1915 "In Flanders Fields"

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• Or, bide thou where the poppy blows
  With windflowers fail and fair.

  William C. Bryant

  Blow, Failing, Fairs

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• The great events of life often leave one unmoved; they pass out of consciousness, and, when thinks of them, become unreal. Even the scarlet flowers of passion seem to grow in the same meadow as the poppies of oblivion. We reject the burden of their memory, and have anodynes against them. But the little things, the things of no moment, remain with us. In some tiny ivory cell the brain stores the most delicate, and the most fleeting impressions.

  Oscar Wilde

  Memories, Flower, Passion

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• Poppies bleed petals of sheer excess. You and I, this sweet battle ground.

  Janet Fitch

  Sweet, Battle, Excess

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

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• The poppies hung Dew-dabbled on their stalks.

  John Keats

  Dew, Stalking, Hung

  John Keats (1871). “Poetical Works”, p.24

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• Carrying a poppy he passes through the quarrel.

  Kobayashi Issa

  Peace, Quarrels

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• Truth, like the juice of the poppy, in small quantities, calms men; in larger, heats and irritates them, and is attended by fatal consequences in excess.

  Walter Savage Landor

  Men, Juice, Excess

  Walter Savage Landor (1824). “Imaginary Conversations of Literary Men and Statesmen”, p.351

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