“This life of ours...human life is like a flower gloriously blooming in a meadow: along comes a goat, eats it up---no more flower.”
“BORKIN: [Sighing] The life of a man is like a flower, blooming so gaily in a field. Then, along comes a goat, he eats it, and the flower is gone!”
“How does the meadow-flower its bloom unfold?Because the lovely little flower is freeDown to its root, and in that freedom bold.”
“Life is painful. It has thorns, like the stem of a rose. Culture and art are the roses that bloom on the stem. The flower is yourself, your humanity. Art is the liberation of the humanity inside yourself.”
“A flower bloomed already wilting. Beginning its life with an early ending.”
“What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life's pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.”