A Quote by Francis Bacon

The breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air than in the hand. — © Francis Bacon
The breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air than in the hand.
Stronger than iron crueler than death sweeter than springtime it lives beyond breath
The air of summer was sweeter than wine.
O Prosperina, For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's wagon; daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength--a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one.
It is the 1st mild day of March. Each minute sweeter than before... there is a blessing in the air.
In the end, madness is worse than injustice, and justice far sweeter than freedom.
It [revenge] is sweeter far than flowing honey.
Pleasure is far sweeter as a recreation than a business.
Ah! How sweet coffee tastes! Lovelier than a thousand kisses, sweeter far than muscatel wine!
Pains of love be sweeter far than all other pleasures are.
I would rather dwell in the dim fog of superstition than in air rarefied to nothing by the air-pump of unbelief-in which the panting breast expires, vainly and convulsively gasping for breath.
The soul is a breath of living spirit, that with excellent sensitivity, permeates the entire body to give it life. Just so, the breath of the air makes the earth fruitful. Thus the air is the soul of the earth, moistening it, greening it.
Grace does not demonize our desires nor destroy them nor lead us to deny them. Grace is the work of the Holy Spirit in transforming our desires so that knowing Jesus becomes sweeter than illicit sex, sweeter than money and what it can buy, sweeter than every fruitless joy. Grace is God satisfying our souls with His Son so that we're ruined for anything else!
How little you know about the age you live in if you think that honey is sweeter than cash in hand
In my song you catch at times Note sweeter far than mine, And in the tangle of my rhymes Can scent the eglantine.
Anger, which, far sweeter than trickling drops of honey, rises in the bosom of a man like smoke.
There is musick, even in the beauty and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!