flowers

To me, flowers are happiness.

At my age flowers scare me.

I don't like painting flowers in my music. I like painting guts and pain.

The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly... music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.

When I listen to music, I don't want to hear about flowers. I like death and destruction.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

I was taught to confront things you can't avoid. Death is one of those things. To live in a society where you're trying not to look at it is stupid because looking at death throws us back into life with more vigour and energy. The fact that flowers don't last for ever makes them beautiful.

Don't send me flowers when I'm dead. If you like me, send them while I'm alive.

My strength never came from political echelons, it came from the family. And from the fields and the lands and the flowers and everything I see there. My strength came from there.

I was born on a farm. My strength has nothing to do with political apparatus. I get my strength from nature, from flowers.

The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science, along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers.

A committee is organic rather than mechanical in its nature: it is not a structure but a plant. It takes root and grows, it flowers, wilts, and dies, scattering the seed from which other committees will bloom in their turn.

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!

I am following Nature without being able to grasp her, I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, waking in the dawn of the morning, in the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, sleeping in the cold night's arms.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.