“I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower, you hung all your associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see—and I don't.”
“If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden.”
“When you smell a flower, where is the smell before you smell the flower? Think about that one.”
“You are my flower and I am your stem holding you to the light.”
“You wanted hearts and flowers,” he murmurs.I blink at him, not quite believing what I’m seeing.“You have my heart.” And he waves toward the room.“And here are the flowers,” I whisper, completing his sentence. “Christian, it’s lovely.”
“Forge your iron; shape it by force, not into a flower you already know but into what can also be a flower if you think it is and it is so.”