An Inspired Community

Down through the ages, in all parts of the world, flowers have inspired humanity in powerful and irreplaceable ways.  

This page on our site is for the community of people who appreciate the irreplaceable role of flowers in our lives.  Discover how big that community is by seeing many in history who felt the same.  Be inspired.  Share the cheer with those you know. Connect.  Learn.  Grow.  Blossom.

“Flowers leave some of their fragrance in the hand that bestows them.”  – Chinese Proverb

Abraham Lincoln

“Die when I may, I want it said by those who knew me best that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow.”

”Keep not your roses for my dead, cold brow 
The way is lonely, let me feel them now.”
– Arabella Smith (1844-1916)

Isaac Watts (1647-1748)

“How doth the little busy bee
improve each shining hour, 
and gather honey all the day
from every opening flower.

How skillfully she builds her cell; 
how neat she spreads her wax, 
and labors hard to store it well
with the sweet food she makes.” 

Christina Georgina Rossetti

“Flowers preach to us if we will hear.” 1830-1894

“The flower of flowers is the Sakura – Cherry Blossom. The Samurai is the man among men.” – Japanese proverb

Herodotus (Historian, 484–425 BC)

“They strewed flowers on the tomb, they encircled it with myrtle, they placed locks of their hair on it, they tenderly invoked the names of those departed, and lastly, they poured sweet ointments on the grave.  These observances, with little variation, took place both in Greece and Rome.  See the beautiful ode of Anacreon, thus rendered by Cowley:

“Why do we precious ointments show’r, 
Noble wines why do we pour, 
Beauteous flowers why do we spread, 
Upon the mon’ments of the dead!
Nothing they but dust can show, 
or bones that hasten to be so; 
Crown me with roses while I live.” 

William Wilberforce (1759-1833)

“Of flowers he was peculiarly fond. He delighted to gaze upon their colours, and to investigate their structure; and most of his favourite pocket authors were thickly set with them in a dried state. It was often hard to persuade him to quit the garden for the breakfast-table, and when he made his appearance it was generally with a flower in his hand.”  –  John Harford speaking of William Wilberforce, slave-trade abolitionist in England

“I am ready to think there could be no greater luxury than that of roaming with him [Wilberforce] in solitude over green fields and gardens, and drawing out of his treasury things new and old.  This was most true of his hour of daily exercise.  Who that ever joined him in it, cannot see him as he walked round his garden at Highwood?  Now in animated and even playful conversation, and then drawing from his copious pockets (to contain Dalrymple’s State Papers was the standard measure) some favorite author, a Psalter, a Horace, a Shakspeare, a Cowper, and reading or reciting or refreshing passages, and then catching at long-stored flower-leaves as the wind blew them from the pages, or standing before a favorite gum-cistus to repair the loss.  Then he would point out the harmony of the tints, the beauty of the pencilling, the perfection of the coloring, and sum up all into those ascriptions of praise to the Almighty, which were ever welling forth from his grateful heart.  He loved flowers with all the simple delight of childhood.  He would hover from bed to bed over his favorites, and when he came in even from his shortest walk, deposited a few that he gathered safely in his room before he joined the breakfast-table.  Often would he say, as he enjoyed their fragrance, ‘How good is God to us! What should we think of a friend who had furnished us with a magnificent house and all we needed, and then coming in to see that all had been provided according to his wishes, should be hurt to find that no scents had been placed in the rooms?  Yet so has God dealt with us?  Surely flowers are the smiles of his goodness!’   Sylvanus Urban writing about William Wilberforce in 1839, six years after Wilberforce’s death.