Violet Quotes - Page 9

• Violet, the Dowager Countess: “I mean, one way or another, everyone goes down the aisle with half the story hidden.

  Jessica Fellowes

  Mean, Stories, Half

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• A gift of flowers to a woman implies that she is as deliciously desirable as the blossoms themselves; but there may be another and hidden message, contained in the old-fashioned phrases like 'shy as a violet, 'clinging vine,' not originally conceived as pejoratives, that tells more of the truth - which is that flowers are also emblems of feminine submission.

  Eleanor Perenyi

  Truth, Flower, Shy

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• I’m trying to embroider.” Hyacinth held up her handiwork as proof. “You’re trying to avoid—” Her mother stopped, blinking. “I say, why does that flower have an ear?” “It’s not an ear.” Hyacinth looked down. “And it’s not a flower.” “Wasn’t it a flower yesterday?” “I have a very creative mind,” Hyacinth ground out, giving the blasted flower another ear. “That,” Violet said, “has never been in any doubt.” Hyacinth looked down at the mess on the fabric. “It’s a tabby cat,” she announced. “I just need to give it a tail.

  Julia Quinn

  Mother, Flower, Cat

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• My palette contains a warm and cool of each primary, plus four modifiers: Yellow Ochre, Burnt Sienna, Blue-Violet and Phthalo Yellow-Green just mix as I go for each painting.

  Matt Smith

  Blue, Yellow, Four

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• Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)

  Virginia Woolf

  Woven, Said

  Virginia Woolf (2016). “The Waves”, p.103, Virginia Woolf

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• Where shall the lover rest,
  Whom the fates sever
  From his true maiden's breast,
  Parted for ever?
  Where, through groves deep and high,
  Sounds the far billow,
  Where early violets die,
  Under the willow.

  Walter Scott

  Life, Fate, Sound

  Sir Walter Scott (1826). “The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Etc”, p.48

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• Elizabeth Taylor is, in my opinion, the greatest actress in film history. She instinctively understands the camera and its nonverbal intimacies. Opening her violet eyes, she takes us into the liquid realm of emotion, which she inhabits by Pisces intuition. Richard Burton said that Taylor showed him how to act for the camera. Economy and understatement are essential. At her best, Elizabeth Taylor simply is. An electric, erotic charge vibrates the space between her face and the lens. It is an extra-sensory, pagan phenomenon.

  Camille Paglia

  Eye, Film History, Space

  Camille Paglia (2011). “Sex, Art, and American Culture: Essays”, p.16, Vintage

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• Don't order any black things. Rejoice in his memory; and be radiant: leave grief to the children. Wear violet and purple. Be patient with the poor people who will snivel: they don't know; and they think they will live for ever, which makes death a division instead of a bond.

  George Bernard Shaw

  Memories, Children, Grief

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• Twisting and wiring and stringing starching and curling, delicately painting spots and shadings on scraps of silk until what had been nothing more than a pile of brightly colored fragments had been transformed into the silk irises, forget-me-not, violets and roses that would adorn the hats of women and girls more fortunate than themselves.

  Melanie McGrath

  Girl, Flower, Rose

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• I read somewhere once that souls were like flowers,' said Priscilla. 'Then your soul is a golden narcissus,' said Anne, 'and Diana's is like a red, red rose. Jane's is an apple blossom, pink and wholesome and sweet.' 'And our own is a white violet, with purple streaks in its heart,' finished Priscilla.

  Lucy Maud Montgomery

  Sweet, Flower, Heart

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• When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo; O, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.

  William Shakespeare

  Fear, Men, Blue

  'Love's Labour's Lost' (1595) act 5, sc. 2, l. [902]

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• Anyone who knew Violet well could tell she was thinking hard, because her long hair was tied up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes. Violet had a real knack for inventing and building strange devices, so her brain was often filled with images of pulleys, levers, and gears, and she never wanted to be distracted by something as trivial as her hair.

  Daniel Handler

  Real, Eye, Thinking

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• Blue is for cruel bargains; green is for daring what you oughtn’t; violet is for brute force. I will say to you: Coral coaxes; pink insists; red compels. I will say to you: You are dear to me as attar of roses. Please do not get eaten.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Blue, Rose, Green

  Catherynne M. Valente (2011). “Deathless”, p.144, Macmillan

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• Though she hated to stop kissing, Luce held Daniel's warm face in her hands. She gazed into his violet eyes, trying to draw strength. "I'm sorry," she said. "For running off like I did." "Don't be," he said,slowly and with absolute sincerity. "You had to go. It was preordained; it had to happen." He smiled again. "We did what we needed to do,Lucinda." A jet of warmth shot through her,making her dizzy. "I was starting to think I'd never see you again." "How many times have I told you that I will always find you?

  Lauren Kate

  Running, Sorry, Eye

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• At present I absolutely want to paint a starry sky. It often seems to me that night is still more richly coloured than the day; having hues of the most intense violets, blues and greens. If only you pay attention to it you will see that certain stars are lemon-yellow, others pink or a green, blue and forget-me-not brilliance. And without my expatiating on this theme it is obvious that putting little white dots on the blue-black is not enough to paint a starry sky.

  Vincent Van Gogh

  Stars, Night, Blue

  Vincent van Gogh (2014). “Delphi Complete Works of Vincent van Gogh (Illustrated)”, p.2897, Delphi Classics

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• to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you've held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.

  Ellen Bass

  Hope, Grief, Love You

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• Can anything compare to the sight of the first yellow violets blooming along a woodland path? These most fragile of plants are yet hardy enough to bloom when nights are still frosty and snow still lingers in the ravines.

  Howard Evans

  Night, Sight, Yellow

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• We say
  This changes and that changes. Thus the constant
  Violets, doves, girls, bees and hyacinths
  Are inconstant objects of inconstant cause
  In a universe of inconstancy.

  Wallace Stevens

  Change, Girl, Hyacinths

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play”, p.285, Vintage

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• Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.

  Ellen Bass

  Love You, Eye, Charming Smile

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• Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.

  Friedrich Schiller

  Spring, Blood, Years

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• And then the rose-border. What intensity in those odorous buds of the Bon Silene, making the very spirit bound as though a message had reached it from heaven. And the verbena bed is compassed with fitful fragrance. Even the pansies, with their dewy eyes, are ready to rival the violets now.... Nor must the purple buds of the calycanthus be forgotten. 'Sweet-scented shrub' indeed; for let me hide but a single one of these in some fold of my dress, and the spices of Araby will float around me till the evening.

  Sarah Smiley

  Sweet, Eye, Purple

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• My life's long radiant Summer halts at last, And lo! beside my path way I behold Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold Has heralded her presence; but a vast Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold Subdues the vivid colouring of bold And passion-hued emotions. I will cast My August days behind me with my May, Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place, Nor swear I hope when I do but remember. Now violet and rose have had their day, I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace And call September nothing but September.

  Ella Wheeler Wilcox

  Summer, Sweet, Passion

  Ella Wheeler Wilcox (2016). “Complete Poetical Works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Delphi Classics)”, p.1135, Delphi Classics

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• Many books belong to sunshine, and should be read out of doors. Clover, violets, and hedge roses breathe from their leaves; they are most lovable in cool lanes, along field paths, or upon stiles overhung by hawthorn, while the blackbird pipes, and the nightingale bathes its brown feathers in the twilight copse.

  Robert Aris Willmott

  Book, Twilight, Sunshine

  Robert Aris WILLMOTT (1851). “Pleasures,objects and advantages of literature”, p.99

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• Voluptuous bloom and fragrance rare The summer to its rose may bring; Far sweeter to the wooing air The hidden violet of spring. Still, still that lovely ghost appears, Too fair, too pure, to bid depart; No riper love of later years Can steal its beauty from the heart.

  Bayard Taylor

  Love, Summer, Spring

  Bayard Taylor (1866). “The Poems”, p.43

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• Here eglantine embalm'd the air, Hawthorne and hazel mingled there; The primrose pale, and violet flower, Found in each cliff a narrow bower; Fox-glove and nightshade, side by side, Emblems of punishment and pride, Group'd their dark hues with every stain The weather-beaten crags retain.

  Walter Scott

  Flower, Pride, Dark

  Walter Scott (1821). “The Poetical Works: Lady of the lake”, p.13

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