💬 SenQuotes.com

Wreaths Quotes

1.
As from a large heap of flowers many garlands and wreaths are made, so by a mortal in this life there is much good work to be done.
Gautama Buddha

Authors on Wreaths Quotes: John Wesley Gautama Buddha Matthew Arnold George Jones Maud Lindsay Nixon Waterman Walt Whitman Hortense Calisher Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Victor Hugo John Milton Tove Jansson
2.
Oh! like a wreath, let Christmas mirth To-day encircle all the earth, And bind the nations with the love That Jesus brought from heaven above.
Maud Lindsay

3.
A rose to the living is more Than sumptuous wreaths to the dead.
Nixon Waterman

4.
He stopped loving her today, they placed a wreath upon his door.
George Jones

5.
But memory, after a time, dispenses its own emphasis, making a feuilleton of what we once thought most ponderable, laying its wreath on what we never thought to recall.
Hortense Calisher

6.
He was the owner of the moonlight on the ground, he fell in love with the most beautiful of the trees, he made wreaths of leaves and strung them around his neck.
Tove Jansson

7.
Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles, Nods and Becks and wreathèd Smiles.
John Milton

8.
What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for Beauty to forego her wreath? Yes; but not this alone.
Matthew Arnold

9.
When Poetry thus keeps its place as the handmaiden of piety, it shall attain not a poor perishable wreath, but a crown that fadeth not away.
John Wesley

10.
If there were nothing else of Abraham Lincoln for history to stamp him with, it is enough to send him with his wreath to the memory of all future time, that he endured that hour, that day, bitterer than gall - indeed a crucifixion day - that it did not conquer him - that he unflinchingly stemmed it, and resolved to lift himself and the Union out of it.
Walt Whitman

11.
The individual man is transitory, but the pulse of life and of growth goes on after he is gone, buried under a wreath of magnolia leaves.
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

12.
In every cradle decked with rosy wreath Lurk germs of death.
Victor Hugo