Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Mistletoe. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Mistletoe Quotes And Sayings by 88 Authors including Ray Bradbury,Eva K. Logue,Walt Whitman,Dave Beard,Frances Hodgson Burnett for you to enjoy and share.
Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered ... sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks ...
A Christmas candle is a lovely thing; It makes no noise at all, But softly gives itself away; While quite unselfish, it grows small.
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard.
[Give me the splendid silent sun]
A rhododendron bud lavender-tipped. Soon a glory of blooms to clash with the cardinals and gladden the hummingbirds!
Fair fresh leaves, and buds - and buds - tiny at first but swelling and working Magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air.
Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel for the first violet which March brings us, the fragrant pledge of the new-fledged year.
Let the essence of Christmas blossom within - as the countdown to Christmas begins.
When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness.
Christmas; you are my shining star in the days of tender growing solicitude.
All a green willow, willow, All a green willow is my garland.
White lilies, the kind you would give to a bride or a corpse.
On cold December fragrant chaplets blow, And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.
Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.
How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays; And their uncessant labours see Crown'd from some single herb or tree. Whose short and narrow verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow'rs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose.
October, baptize me with leaves! Swaddle me in corduroy and nurse me with split pea soup. October, tuck tiny candy bars in my pockets and carve my smile into a thousand pumpkins. O autumn! O teakettle! O grace!
Whosoever a beautiful candle belongs to, protect it against the cruel winds!
Christmas music fills our ears with tales of a Palestinian miracle birth, a generous Turkish saint whom the Dutch dressed in a red suit, and a Druid ceremonial tree ... I
Shade for a man
And shelter for animals,
Planted in your name,
May you be the same for those around you,
Every year the same.
As flowers carry dewdrops, trembling on the edges of the petals, and ready to fall at the first waft of wind or brush of bird, so the heart should carry its beaded words of thanksgiving; and at the first breath of heavenly flavor, let down the shower, perfumed with the heart's gratitude.
How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored.
Here's flowers for you; hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold. The Winter's Tale, Act 4, Sc.4
Autumn in my garden is when trees give their tickertape welcome to winter.
merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again
Flowers open every night
across the sky, a breathing peace,
and sudden flame catching.
I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.
To her bier Comes the year Not with weeping and distress, as mortals do, But, to guide her way to it, All the trees have torches lit; Blazing red the maples shine the woodlands through ...
There was a frosty rime upon the trees, which, in the faint light of the clouded moon, hung upon the smaller branches like dead garlands.
Fennel, which is the spice for Wednesdays, the day of averages, of middle-aged people ... Fennel ... smelling of changes to come.
October's Party
October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came -
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
Young foliage sweet bronze.
Most strongly scented of all wisterias.
Deep spring: overcome by my own perfume.
It's your Christmas present.
What is?
All this. The whole world. The houses, cars, streets, the wind... it's all yours. You can do what you like.
Sorry, but I'm not sure it's a good present. It's windy... ...there's a mist. It's so cold. And this world isn't that good.
There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
The scented cloud permeates the air and coats our tongues, triggering images: licorice tobacco and a seductive fae with an agenda, ocean salt and a mortal boy's sweat, maple syrup and a father's love, a mother's sacrifice and a lunar garden rich with lilies and honeysuckle.
Festivus for the Restivus!
Bring the buds of the hazel-copse, Where two lovers kissed at noon; Bring the crushed red wild-thyme tops Where they murmured under the moon ...
In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!
When the holly's in the red
And the pine is in the green,
When the mornings all are frosty,
In a brilliant silver sheen
Then I love to go a' walking
Rambling here and there, quite slow,
Plucking greenery and berries;
Wishing for a Christmas snow
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
Christmas, so joyfully celebrated within our hearts and within the hearts of countless others.
In the midst of the shopping and the wrapping and the arranging of presents under your tree this Christmas, may you not forget the gifts you cannot yet hold in your hands.
Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us.
Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.
New Year's most glorious light is sweet hope!
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
O frost bitten blossoms, That are unfolding your wings From out the envious black branches. Bloom quickly and make much of the sunshine. The twigs conspire against you! Hear hem! They hold you from behind.
Pointed firs coming out against the pink sky- and that white orchard and the old Snow Queen. Isn't the breath of the mint delicious? And that tea rose- why, it's a song and a hope and a prayer all in one.
Come, come thou bleak December wind,
And blow the dry leaves from the tree!
Flash, like a Love-thought, thro'me, Death
And take a Life that wearies me.
When you with velvets mantled o'er, Defy December's tempests frore, Oh! spare one garment from your store, To clothe the poor at Christmas.
Christmas! The very word brings joy to our hearts.
Winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird ...
When I was a child, my December weekends were spent making cards, decorating the tree, hanging the wreath and preparing brandy butter and peppermint creams.
Each day of the holidays comes bringing its own gifts.
Open your heart,
Untie the ribbons,
and enjoy the contents!
Were earth a thousand times as fair
Beset with gold and jewels rare
She yet were far too poor to be
A narrow cradle,
Lord, for Thee.
The smells of Christmas are the smells of childhood
Christmas
Silence in the time
The first snow fell in your laughter
Childlike anticipation
Christmas is in your heart
A rose, with the motto Dum spiro spero, which actually I rather like - while I breathe I shall hope.
I love the smell of a real Christmas tree - also, my mum's Christmas pudding with brandy sauce.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow ...
It is daffodil time, so the robins all cry, For the sun's a big daffodil up in the sky, And when down the midnight the owl call to-whoo! Why, then the round moon is a daffodil too; Now sheer to the bough-tops the sap starts to climb, So, merry my masters, it's daffodil time.
And fairy month of waking mirth
From whom our joys ensue
Thou early gladder of the earth
Thrice welcome here anew
With thee the bud unfolds to leaves
The grass greens on the lea
And flowers their tender boon receives
To bloom and smile with thee.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
A small cup of the deceivingly cheerful cherry-red syrup
One flower makes no garland.
Lavender's blue,
Rosemary's green,
When you are king,
I shall be queen
The sacredness of Christmas: glory to God in the highest holy heavens, peace on earth and goodwill to all people.
You really do have some pretty fancy words lately."
"Yeah." He put the mistletoe in his pocket and pulled her in closer. "And here's three more ... I love you.
Let us fill urns with rose-leaves in May
And hive the the trifty sweetness for December!
There is no mention of mistletoe as a sacred herb.
April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees.
In pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away.
How seasonably
leaf and blossom uncurl
and living things arrange their death,
while someone from afar off
blows birthday candles for the world.
Jiminy Christmas!
The loamy perfume
Of ferns, rain, earth, flees before
Mister poopie pants
Gather my leaves,
Twist them into crowns
Let me be the king of your forest
Climb on my branches,
I will seek out your hide
s you sleep beneath the shade
Of my giving tree
What is this? Early caroling?
You are my winter suddenness - a glass of red wine spilt across a white tablecloth
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
What day is so festal it fails to reveal some theft?
The tints of autumn ... a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
So quiet and subtle is the beauty of December that escapes the notice of many people their whole lives through.. Colour gives way to form. every branch distinct, in a delicate tracery against the sky.. new vistas obscured all Summer by leafage, now open up.
Everywhere the air had become a vibrant yellow drum. A heavy sunlight freighted the foliage of the trees. Each leaf was a shutter about to swing back and reveal a miniature sun, one window in the immense advent calendar of nature.
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest, And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe; And all the daughters of the year shall dance! Sing now the lusty song of fruit and flowers.
Christmas Eve Saint Francis and Saint Benedight Blesse this house from wicked wight; From the night-mare and the goblin, That is hight good fellow Robin: Keep it from all evil spirits, Fairies, weezels, rats, and ferrets: From curfew time To the next prime.
The flower doth not worry, and the tree doth not waver.
Winter garden,
the moon thinned to a thread,
insects singing.
Humid seal of soft affections,
Tend'rest pledge of future bliss,
Dearest tie of young connections,
Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.
'Tis blessed to bestow, and yet,
Could we bestow the gifts we get,
And keep the ones we give away,
How happy were our Christmas day!
Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.
In honor of October, really just hours away now ...
Brew me a cup for a winter's night.
For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;
Spice it with love and stir it with care,
And I'll toast our bright eyes,
my sweetheart fair.
A song? What laughter or what song
Can this house remember?
Do flowers and butterflies
Belong to a blind December?
Graciously honor the freedom at which Christmas so peacefully - came into being.
Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.
The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf.
Happy season of childhood! Kind Nature, that art to all a bountiful mother; that visitest the poor man's hut With auroral radiance; and for thy nursling hast provided a soft swathing of love and infinite hope wherein he waxes and slumbers, danced round by sweetest dreams!
The fairies came to christening parties and gave the babies magical gifts.
Bounce, effort, and snark.
Contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee.
Sugar, curiosity, and rain.
And yet, there was a witch.
There's always a witch.
the fragrant bunches of nettle and dried lavender overhead, dusty gold
Here bloom red roses, dewy wet,
And beds of fragrant mignonette.
O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host
Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.
Nose, nose, jolly red nose,And who gave thee that jolly red nose?Nutmegs and ginger, cinammon and cloves;And they gave me this jolly red nose.
Moonlight, white satin, roses. A bride.
Not knowing the name of the tree,
I stood in the flood
of its sweet scent.