Quotes About Violets

Quotes tagged as "violets" (showing 1-10 of 10)
Tennessee Williams
“The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.”
Tennessee Williams, Camino Real

L.M. Montgomery
“Do you think amethysts can be the souls of good violets?”
L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Veronica Rossi
“From the corner of her eye, the wildflowers along the wall caught her attention. “Roar, wait!”
Roar turned around. “Yes?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
Aria ran to the wall, scanning the flowers. She found the right one and plucked it. She drew in its scent and imagined Perry walking beside her, his bow across his back, looking over with his lopsided grin.
She brought the flower to Roar. “I changed my mind,” she said. “Give him this.”
Roar’s eyes crinkled in confusion. “I thought you liked roses. What’s this?”
“A violet.” ”
Veronica Rossi, Under the Never Sky

L.M. Montgomery
“You are the only person who loves me in the world," said Elizabeth. "When you talk to me I smell violets.”
L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Windy Poplars

E.M. Forster
“Eccolo!” he exclaimed.

At the same moment the ground gave way, and with a cry she fell out of the wood. Light and beauty enveloped her. She had fallen on to a little open terrace, which was covered with violets from end to end.

“Courage!” cried her companion, now standing some six feet above. “Courage and love.”

She did not answer. From her feet the ground sloped sharply into view, and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts, irrigating the hillside with blue, eddying round the tree stems, collecting into pools in the hollows, covering the grass with spots of azure foam. But never again were they in such profusion; this terrace was the well-head, the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth.

Standing at its brink, like a swimmer who prepares, was the good man. But he was not the good man that she had expected, and he was alone.

George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her, as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face, he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her…”
E.M. Forster, A Room with a View

Virginia Woolf
“Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)”
Virginia Woolf, The Waves

Jessica Stern
“My breathe would catch at the sight of violets-so common in the woods at home, so surprising in the mountains. The violet's message was "Keep up your courage, stay true to what you believe in." p264”
Jessica Stern, Denial: A Memoir of Terror

E.M. Forster
“…”The Emersons who were at Florence, do you mean? No, I don’t suppose it will prove to be them. It is probably a long cry from them to friends of Mr. Vyse’s. Oh, Mrs. Honeychurch, the oddest people! The queerest people! For our part we liked them, didn’t we?” He appealed to Lucy. “There was a great scene over some violets. They picked violets and filled all the vases in the room of these very Miss Alans who have failed to come to Cissie Villa. Poor little ladies! So shocked and so pleased. It used to be one of Miss Catharine’s great stories. ‘My dear sister loves flowers,’ it began. They found the whole room a mass of blue — vases and jugs — and the story ends with ‘So ungentlemanly and yet so beautiful.’ It is all very difficult. Yes, I always connect those Florentine Emersons with violets.”…”
E.M. Forster, A Room with a View

Jay  Nichols
“On a nightstand in a teenager’s room, a glass vase filled with violets leans precariously against a wall. The only thing saving the vase from a thousand-piece death on the hardwood floor is the groove in the nightstand’s surface that catches the bottom of vase, and of course the wall itself. The violets, nearly a week old, droop in the light of a waning gibbous moon. Wrinkled petals are already piling up on the floor between the nightstand and the wall, and a girl only six days sixteen stares at the dying bouquet from her bed.”
Jay Nichols, Emily Smiles for April

Sarah Jio
“They're wood violets," she said. "I haven't seen them on the island since...."
"They're very rare," Henry said, filling the void that Bee had left when her voice trailed off. "You can't plant them, for they won't grow. They have to choose you."
Bee's eyes met Henry's, and she smiled, a gentle, forgiving smile. It warmed me to see it. "Evelyn has a theory about these flowers," she said, pausing as if to pull a dusty memory off a shelf in her mind, handling it with great care. "Yes," she said, the memory in plain view. "She used to say they grow where they are needed, that they signal healing, and hope.”
Sarah Jio, The Violets of March

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