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Marigold Captions for Instagram

To strew thy green with flowers; the yellows, blues, The purple violets, and marigolds

Love smells like a flower in bloom. A flower that’s sitting on a pile of steaming feces.

Feathers blowing in the wind is no more a bird than a pile of crumpled up receipts from champagne, chocolate, and flower purchases is a true indication that a man loves a woman.

Yellow is my favorite, but what is yellow? Handmaiden to white, it is a slight tarnish of pure light. Take away a bit of whites absolute luminosity, and what remains is yellow — sunlike, golden as a crown, buttercups in a field, marsh marigolds, a finch’s wing, a plastic flute.

No marigolds yet closed are, No shadows great appeare.

It is not growing like a treeIn bulk, doth make Man better be;Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:A lily of a dayIs fairer far in MayAlthough it fall and die that night;It was the plant and flower of Light.In small proportions we just beauties see;And in short measures life may perfect be.

They sought each other, missed each other, at cocktail parties, in train terminals, at flower shops, their fin de siecle Nokias gaining symbolic power with each scene.

Patience doesn’t mean making a pact with the devil of denial, ignoring our emotions and aspirations. It means being wholeheartedly engaged in the process that’s unfolding, rather than ripping open a budding flower or demanding a caterpillar hurry up and get that chrysalis stage over with.

As for marigolds, poppies, hollyhocks, and valorous sunflowers, we shall never have a garden without them, both for their own sake, and for the sake of old-fashioned folks, who used to love them.

Marigold Flower Quotes

If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers…
Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
Board the cows! We’ve come to enslave your marigolds.

Here’s flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.

Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun, and with him rise weeping.

Open afresh your round of starry folds, Ye ardent marigolds!

It does not matter if you are a rose or a lotus or a marigold. What matters is that you are flowering.

Open afresh your round of starry folds, Ye ardent marigolds! Dry up the moisture from your golden lips.

Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet.

The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.

She liked anything orange: leaves; some moons; marigolds; chrysanthemums; cheese; pumpkin, both in pie and out; orange juice; marmalade. Orange is bright and demanding. You can’t ignore orange things. She once saw an orange parrot in the pet store and had never wanted anything so much in her life. She would have named it Halloween and fed it butterscotch. Her mother said butterscotch would make a bird sick and, besides, the dog would certainly eat it up. September never spoke to the dog again — on principle.