Buds Quotes

“Each bud that opens embraces becoming
as if it has never happened before.
Do you?”
― Shellen Lubin

“True Martial Arts is universal, simple and practical. Anything else is too complex to be used in combat.”
― Soke Behzad Ahmadi, Advanced Ryukyu Karate

“The thick baffling blades of false world customs rip off my views and ideas,like breaking every string of my aesthetic thoughts in disdain and jealousy;pain pain enough your tigrine roars before I die.”
― Nithin Purple, Venus and Crepuscule

“Ah! listen the song of storm from my disturbed soul;and it scatters flower buds into its lonely halls;like every pain needs a dirge,with wreaths that awful the world framed one for me,and gives the time it calls.”
― Nithin Purple, Venus and Crepuscule

“Maturity is the light for the buds to bloom!”
― Tehreem Rahat

“She had no mental shields, no barriers. The gates to her mind... Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers- or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Never yet was the time of tenderness when the buds forgot to blow.”
― Salam Al Shereida

“Are you trying out for most improved player there Cheney? Start off really, really bad and then just slowly improve and get the most improved award?”
― Instructor Patstone

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“Around him he noted that the woods were flaming. A fine flame was playing over the leafless branches, not gaudy like the fires of autumn, but strong and pure. The trees,not now by accident of life but in themselves, were again etherialised. For a brief space, in spring, before the leaf comes, the life in trees is like a pure and subtle fire, in buds and boughs. Willows are like yellow rods of fire, blood-red burns in sycamore and scales off in floating flakes as the bud unfolds and the sheath is loosened. Beeches and elms, all dull beneath, have webs of golden and purple brown upon their spreading tops. Purple blazes in the birch twigs and smoulders darkly in the blossom of the ash. At no other season are the trees so liitle earthly. Mere vegetable matter they are not. One understands the dryad myth, both the emergence of the vivid delicate creature and her melting again in her tree; for in a week, a day, the foliage thickens, she is a tree again.”
― Nan Shepherd, The Weatherhouse