Top 1200 Fruit Trees Quotes & Sayings

Here come the hum the golden bees Underneath full blossomed trees, At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned.

Phocion compared the speeches of Leosthenes to cypress-trees. "They are tall," said he, "and comely, but bear no fruit."

A thousand trees are seen towards heaven rising, With beautiful and sweetly-scented apples; The orange, wearing on its lovely fruit The colour Daphne carried in her hair; Bent low, nay almost fallen to the ground, The citron, heavy with its yellow load; And, last, the graceful lemon with its fruit Of pleasant smell and shaped like virgins' breasts.

Hence it is that old men do plant young trees, the fruit whereof another age shall take.

A tomato may be a fruit, but it is a singular fruit. A savory fruit. A fruit that has ambitions far beyond the ambitions of other fruits.

If there are a bunch of fruit trees, one can say that whoever created these fruit trees wanted some apples. In other words, by looking at the order in the world, we can infer purpose and from purpose we begin to get some knowledge of the Creator, the Planner of all this. This is, then, how I look at God. I look at God through the works of God's hands and from those works imply intentions. From these intentions, I receive an impression of the Almighty.

We have lots of fruit trees and vegetables - we live endlessly on courgettes. I certainly wouldn't approve of a diet of McDonald's for my children.

The trees that are slow to grow bear the best fruit.

The desired Islamic state might be likened to an orchard planted with olive and palm trees that will take a relatively long time to produce fruit.

The Walls enriched with Fruit-trees and faced with a covering of their leafy extensions; I should rather have said hung with different Pieces of Nature's noblest Tapestry.

From the explicit prohibition against the destruction of fruit trees, our sages deduced that it is all the more forbidden to destroy the fruits themselves.

Now I am in the garden at the back . . . a very preserve of butterflies as I remember it, with a high fence, and a gate . . . where the fruit clusters on the trees, riper and richer than fruit has ever been since, in any other garden, and where my mother gathers some in a basket while I stand by, bolting furtive gooseberries, and trying to look unnerved.

Fruit in the morning is such a big joy for me. I like to grab fruit from the tree, et cetera. I don't feel that way with vegetables. Fruit, you can eat it at any time, any moment, in any type of situation. I like everything about fruit; I like the color.

We gather perfect fruit from perfect trees.

We are identified and known by the sort of fruit, the quantity of fruit, and the quality of fruit borne out in our daily conversation, conduct, and character. There is no greater criterion for Christians. It is the paramount gauge of God's people.

A statesman who shakes the fruit trees of his neighbors - to dislodge the worms.

Fruit in the morning is such a big joy for me. I like to grab fruit from the tree et cetera. I don't feel that way with vegetables. Fruit you can eat it at any time, any moment, in any type of situation. I like everything about fruit, I like the color.

Trees bend low with ripened fruit; clouds hang down with gentle rain; noble people bow graciously. This is the way of generous things.

Of all the trees that have ever been cultivated by man, the genealogical tree is the driest. It is one, we may be sure, that had no place in the garden of Eden. Its root is in the grave; its produce mere Dead Sea fruit.

The fruit of your work grows on other people's trees

I've seen spring come to the orchard every year as far back as I can remember and I've never grown tired of it. Oh, the wonder of it! The outrageous beauty! God didn't have to give us cherry blossoms you know. He didn't have to make apple trees and peach trees burst into flower and fragrance. But God just loves to splurge. He gives us all this magnificence and then, if that isn't enough, He provides fruit from such extravagance.

First, I emptied the closets of your clothes, threw out the bowl of fruit, bruised from your touch, left empty the jars you bought for preserves. The next morning, birds rustled the fruit trees, and later when I twisted a ripe fig loose from its stem, I found it half eaten, the other side already rotting, or-like another I plucked and split open-being taken from the inside: a swarm of insects hollowing it. I'm too late, again, another space emptied by loss. Tomorrow, the bowl I have yet to fill.

...trees to cool the towns in the boiling summer, trees to hold back the winter winds. There were so many things a tree could do: add color, provide shade, drop fruit, or become a children's playground, a whole sky universe to climb and hang from; an architecture of food and pleasure, that was a tree. But most of all the trees would distill an icy air for the lungs, and a gentle rustling for the ear when you lay nights in your snowy bed and were gentled to sleep by the sound.

I wanted to eat of the fruit of all the trees in the garden of the world… And so, indeed, I went out, and so I lived. My only mistake was that I confined myself so exclusively to the trees of what seemed to me the sun-lit side of the garden, and shunned the other side for its shadow and its gloom.

My fruit grows on other people’s trees.

I always wanted to be a Californian. In my wildest dreams, I always liked California - it's the place where oranges grows on trees! Fruit just falls off the trees.

There were many fruit trees in our house when I was growing up and I never missed climbing any of them.

In God’s garden of grace, even broken trees bear fruit...

The City's going to be very very beautiful! Its going to be like a beautiful beautiful park in some places, and there in the lower level where the river flows right through the City there's going to be these beautiful trees growing on both sides, fruit trees with 12 different kinds of fruit, a different kind every month, think of that!-And leaves that'll be able to heal the people outside the City that are still sin-sick, and sick of their disobediences and their rebellion against God. We're going to be able to take those leaves outside and heal them!

As September rolls into October, I become obsessed with apples. Now obviously this is provoked by the ripening fruit clustering on the trees in our orchard, but it is as though all things pomological ripen in me, too.

He is a fool who looks at the fruit of lofty trees, but does not measure their height.

I have fruit trees. Cows for fresh milk, yoghurt. My own wheat. I'm basically self-sufficient.

A dead hydrangea is as intricate and lovely as one in bloom. Bleak sky is as seductive as sunshine, miniature orange trees without blossom or fruit are not defective; they are that.

I am the Lorax! I speak for the trees, Which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please; But I also speak for the brown Barbaloots, Who frolicked and played in their Barbaloot suits, Happily eating Truffula fruits. Now, since you've chopped the trees to the ground There's not enough Truffula fruit to go 'round! And my poor Barbaloots are all feeling the crummies Because they have gas, and no food, in their tummies.

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

I have four chickens. I have four laying hens. And I have 50 fruit trees. I make apricot and plum jam every summer. I brought Memphis to Malibu.

The spirits of the air live on the smells Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.

The fruit of humanity is devotion to one's parents. The fruit of righteousness is to respect one's elders. The fruit of wisdom is to understand these two and not to betray them. The fruit of propriety is to regulate and polish them. The fruit of music is the joy that comes from rejoicing in them. When one rejoices in them, they grow. When they grow, how can they be stopped? And when they cannot be stopped, unconsciously one's feet begin to dance and one's arms begin to wave.

I am one whose faith is, that love and friendship, with ardent natures, are like those trees of the torrid zone which yield fruit but once, and then die.

I used to run around barefoot and climb trees and pick fruit and sell it on the side of the road like a real island girl.

Broad-streeted Richmond . . . The trees in the streets are old trees used to living with people, Family trees that remember your grandfather's name.

Hugging trees has a calming effect on me. I'm talking about enormous trees that will be there when we are all dead and gone. I've hugged trees in every part of this little island.

I wouldn't say I eat fruit all the time. If I'm in the mood for fruit, I'll eat it. I try to get some kind of fruit throughout the day or every couple of days. I usually go for bananas to keep the cramps away.

Fine fruit is the flower of commodities. It is the most perfect union of the useful and the beautiful that the earth knows. Trees full of soft foliage; blossoms fresh with spring bounty; and, finally, fruit, rich, bloom-dusted, melting, and luscious.

Some persons resemble certain trees, such as the nut, which flowers in February and ripens its fruit in September; or the juniper and the arbutus; which take a whole year or more to perfect their fruit; and others, the cherry, which takes between two an three months.

No one can reap the fruit before planting the trees.

Virtuous persons and fruit-laden trees bow, but fools and dry sticks break because they do not bend.

It is said that in some countries trees will grow, but will bear no fruit because there is no winter there.

Let us learn to appreciate there will be times when the trees will be bare, and look forward to the time when we may pick the fruit.

I'd love to see a new form of social security ... everyone taught how to grow their own; fruit and nut trees planted along every street, parks planted out to edibles, every high rise with a roof garden, every school with at least one fruit tree for every kid enrolled.

Trees there were, old as trees can be, huge and grasping with hearts black as sin. Strange trees that some said walked in the night.

Nature makes trees put down deep roots before having them bear fruit, and even this is done gradually.

Stars and blossoming fruit-trees: utter permanence and extreme fragility give an equal sense of eternity.

I believe that music should be grown on trees, to be plucked like a fruit without the extravagance of harvest.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Brambles, in particular, protect and nourish young fruit trees, and on farms bramble clumps (blackberry or one of its related cultivars) can be used to exclude deer and cattle from newly set trees. As the trees (apple, quince, plum, citrus, fig) age, and the brambles are shaded out, hoofed animals come to eat fallen fruit, and the mature trees (7 plus years old) are sufficiently hardy to withstand browsing. Our forest ancestors may well have followed some such sequences for orchard evolution, assisted by indigenous birds and mammals.

The Bible says the fruit of the spirit is longsuffering. I'll tell you one thing about fruit: you will never see a fruit factory. Isn't that right? You see a shirt factory, but you see a fruit orchard. You see, there is no fruit without life. You cannot manufacture patience. The fruit of the Spirit is patience.

Water the fruit trees and don’t water the thorns.

The diligent farmer plants trees, of which he himself will never see the fruit.

The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit; for like as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and flourish in May, in likewise every lusty heart that is in any manner a lover, springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth unto all lovers courage, that lusty month of May.