A profusion of pink roses bending ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring. – The Collected Later Poems of William Carlos Williams

Against a dark sky all flowers look like fireworks. There is something strange about them, at once vivid and secret, like flowers traced in fire in the phantasmal garden of a witch. – G.K. Chesterton, Alarms and Discursions, “The Glory of Grey”