Magnolia Quotes

“Magnolia

C'est un rêve pour l'amour
naissant pas tous les jours

C'est un mythe de printemps
explosant dans l'air du temps

C'est une chanson pour le passée
et son refrain dit d'oublié

C'est simplement un voyage
embrassant les nuages

C'est la fleur qui promèsse
La perpetuité de la jeunesse”
― Mirela Stancu, O viață albastră

“In the back of my closet, I saw a pink wrap dress that was hopelessly Southern. Pale pink, with little flutter sleeves all in a Swiss-dot fabric that you could see through if you held it up to the light. I would need nude undergarments, which I was sure I had. My mom always told me never to wear wild undies, you never knew who'd see them! What if I got in a car wreck?
I pulled my hair up and allowed a few red curls to fall out of a messy bun at the nape of my neck. I slipped the dress on and gave my lips a quick swipe of gloss. I chose small gold hoop earrings that had belonged to Gran at one time and stepped into a pair of gold flip-flops. I looked at myself in the mirror and reminded myself I was going to a farm.
Jim walked in. "Ready for the big... Oh, my God, Magnolia!"
"What? Too much?" I said, grimacing.
"Good God, no! You look absolutely perfect! You look like a mouthwatering pink confection! A true Southern Magnolia!”
― Victoria Benton Frank, My Magnolia Summer

“I was convinced I'd met all the men metro Boston had to offer. There was the wandering millennials, the affluent assholes, the man-shaped children, the chronically misogynistic mansplainers.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“I sounded perky and breezy but you can believe I rolled my eyes like a motherfucker.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“I didn't actually want a dick pic. Those things were worse than opening the camera app and finding it in selfie mode. Even the most beautiful people in the world looked like triple-chinned potatoes at that angle.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“She," I replied. "She. She's one of those A-N-D-Y Andys because fuck the patriarchy and their arcane gendered spelling conventions.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“We were fucked up in the feels.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“Those forearms were straight out of Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“The waiter chose this moment to stop at our table and babble on about the backstory of each dish and its ingredients. The carrots were cruelty-free, the bacon knew its grandmother, the chef had trekked all the way to the Malabar coast to handpick the peppercorns. It was a whole big thing.”
― Kate Canterbary, The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures In Dating

“Lemon quince gently adrift at sunrise,
Sweet harbinger, warmth will grace the near days.
Playful breezes spin to catch fragrant sighs,
From blooming buds rustling, soft floral sways,
Nestled betwixt mighty branched leaves of green,
Starry white petals uncoil, one by one;
Stretching to drench in rays of late spring’s scene,
Fanned floral saucers revive, ‘neath the sun.
A strong gust shivers the splendid display,
Dusting blissful, dulcet notes through the air;
Wayward leaves wander, and scatter astray,
Like weightless flutter of butterfly flair.
Tumbling relics of a burgeoned giant,
Magnolia renewed, abloom, defiant.”
― Marie Helen Abramyan

“Lì dinanzi c’è una grande magnolia. Il tronco è tanto grosso che un uomo stenterebbe a circondarlo con le braccia. È più alta del tetto del monastero. Alzo lo sguardo e vedo i suoi rami protesi sulla mia testa. E sopra a quelli altri rami. E sopra tutti i rami la luna. Di solito guardando dal basso in un simile intrico, non si riesce a scorgere il cielo. Ancor più se sono fioriti. Ma i rami di magnolia, per quanto si sovrappongano, mantengono tra l’uno e l’altro un nitido spazio. Quest’albero non protende vanamente sottili ramificazioni che confondono la vista di chi si trova a guardare dal basso. Persino i fiori sono ben spaziati. Si distinguono corolla per corolla, nettamente, anche se contemplati da lontano. Non s’intuisce fin dove la fioritura delle corolle si estenda e si raduni. Posseggono un’identità ben definita e tra l’una e l’altra s’intravvede distintamente il limpido azzurro del cielo. Naturalmente non sono fiori candidi. Un bianco immacolato sarebbe un colore troppo freddo. Soprattutto il bianco uniforme possiede un fascino astuto che incanta gli occhi umani. Non è questo il colore delle magnolie. Si sono elegantemente umiliate indossando un caldo color crema ed evitando intenzionalmente un estremo candore. Fermo sul lastricato contemplo con estasi questi soavi fiori, tentando di indovinare fin dove si estendano nel cielo tutti questi rami. Vedo solo fiori. Neanche una foglia. Sorgono nel mio animo i versi: Contemplo il cielo colmo solo di fiori di magnolia.”
― Natsume Sōseki, Kusamakura

“All her mugs looked alike-ish, but each person had their own color. Like us, all different, though we all went together somehow. Mine was obviously purple; Maggie's was dark olive green, similar to the leaves of her name flower; Gran's was rose red; and my mother's mug was white with silver sparkles.”
― Victoria Benton Frank, The Violet Hour