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1 " I want you to learn the lesson of the lotus. This flower springs forth from muddy waters. It raises its delicate petals to the sun and perfumes the world while, at the same time, its roots cling to the elemental muck, the very essence of the mortal experience. Without that soil, the flower would wither and die. "
― Colleen Houck , Tiger's Voyage (The Tiger Saga, #3)
2 " I guess I think differently than most folks. I think the reason the world is a mystical, enchanting place, is because of the cycle of life. My body will decompose, but maybe some little element of it will be transformed into a particle of dirt, over years and years,and then a glorious flower will be nurtured by this particle of dirt. Then this flower will nourish a random bumblebee, who in turn will be eaten by a raven. So, in some future life, I'll be able to fly. I look forward to that. I've always admired the freedom of birds. "
― E. M. Crane
3 " He disliked tears, he has always disliked tears, had never understood them, and sometimes lost his temper over them; but he felt now that he could not rebuke this flower of his life, this innocent form, water and youth are inseparable companions, and besides it's Christmas night. So he merely hinted again that she must have forgotten again that he had promised to build her a house. "
― Halldór Laxness , Independent People
4 " Do you know why the lotus is one of my favorite flowers?" I cocked my head to one side so I could see his expression. He shook his head. " This beautiful flower lives in the most vile, muddy water of swamps and bogs," I said and rubbed the smooth metal of the pendant between my fingers. He frowned. " No, seriously... the grosser the environment, the better," I said. " So let me get this straight. You like a flower that lives in disgusting places?" One of his eyebrows rose. " That ain't right." " No, I love this flower," I corrected. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, " Seriously?" " What?" You don't believe me?" " Sure, I believe you. It's just weird." " I'll tell you why, but only if you promise not to laugh," I said. He nodded. Taking a cleansing breath, I rested my head against the seat, closed my eyes, and took that scary first step. " This flower stays in the mud and muck all night long." I peeked at him without moving my head. His face had become set in the smooth lines of one who listens intently. " Then, at sunrise, it climbs toward the light and opens into a pristine bloom. After the sun goes down, the bloom sinks into the mire. Even though it spends the whole night underwater, the flower emerges every morning as beautiful as the day before." Smiling, I swiveled in my seat to face him. " I love this flower because it reminds me that we get second chances every day, no matter what muck life drags us through. "
5 " Stay insane, but behave like normal people. Run the risk of being different, but learn to do so without attracting attention. Concentrate on this flower and allow the real " I" to reveal itself. "
6 " The Nature of This Flower is to bloom. "