Lavender Quotes

“There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.”
― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

“When hope is fleeting, stop for a moment and visualize, in a sky of silver, the crescent of a lavender moon. Imagine it -- delicate, slim, precise, like a paper-thin slice from a cabochon jewel.

It may not be very useful, but it is beautiful.

And sometimes it is enough.”
― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“Her love was like lavender,
delicate and melancholy.”
― Laura Chouette, The Painting of Mrs. Ravensbrook

“I walked back to the front of the bakery to see a knot of people stalking our display for June. Apricot and lavender might seem like an unusual pairing, but it made perfect sense to me. Luscious, sweet apricots taste best when they're baked and the flavor is concentrated. On the other hand, lavender likes it cool; the buds have a floral, almost astringent flavor. Lavender was a line drawing that I filled in with brushstrokes of lush apricot.”
― Judith Fertig, The Memory of Lemon

“At the door to the shop, a bell tinkled, and moments later they seemed to enter the very flowering of lavender.
The scent was all around them; it curled and diffused in the air with a sweet warmth and subtlety, then burst with a peppery, musky intensity. The blind girls moved into another room. There they arranged themselves expectantly around a long wooden table, Mme Musset welcomed them, and a cork was pulled with a squeaky pop.
"This is pure essence of lavender, grown on the Valensole plateau," said Madame. "It is in a glass bottle I am sending around to the right for you all to smell. Be patient, and you will get your turn."
Other scents followed: rose and mimosa and oil of almond. Now that they felt more relaxed, some of the other girls started being silly, pretending to sniff too hard and claiming the liquid leapt up at them. Marthe remained silent and composed, concentrating hard. Then came the various blends: the lavender and rosemary antiseptic, the orange and clove scent for the house in winter, the liqueur with the tang of juniper that made Marthe unexpectedly homesick for her family's farming hamlet over the hills to the west, where as a child she had been able to see brightness and colors and precise shapes of faces and hills and fruits and flowers.”
― Deborah Lawrenson, The Sea Garden

“Her first love was like lavender,
delicate and melancholic.”
― Laura Chouette

“We were strangers under the same roof. We were perfect pretenders in the stage of the world.”
― Ranjani Ramachandran, Fourteen Urban Folklore

“Rachael could see the lavender fields from where they sat at the kitchen table. They stretched in a purple haze over the landscape, the bright sunshine washing over them. The mauve complimented the blue-grey of the Australian bush in the far distance.”
― Ellen Read, Broken

“Humans were so very good at fucking, so desperate to engage in it, and yet so uncomfortable talking about it.”
― G.L. Carriger, The 5th Gender

“Nellie didn't make these lavender muffins often, as they brought forth memories of her mother in better days, which was difficult. Yet, it remained one of her favorite recipes. Lemon the flavor of sunshine, and lavender, a most powerful herb. It symbolized feminine beauty and grace, and Nellie could think of nothing better with which to celebrate Martha's recent delivery.”
― Karma Brown, Recipe for a Perfect Wife

“The air smelled of freshly clipped lavender, the scent wafting across the morning in a purple haze. Of course, it wasn’t actually lavender Wren was smelling—it was magic.”
― Adrienne Tooley, Sweet & Bitter Magic

“Lemon and... blueberries, right? No, hold on- blackberries, I think. And... lavender? Lavender, for... excitement? I think there's an old saying that lavender is good for something like that."
That sounded familiar. "Just a second." I took the book out of my backpack and flipped through the beginning again. "This isn't in alphabetical order, or any kind of order at all. Oh, here it is. Lavender brings luck and adventure for those who choose to embrace it," I said. "You were right."
"What book is that?" asked Vik. "It looks ancient."
"I just found it. It's got all these drawings and descriptions of herbs and spices."
"Cool! Can I take a look?"
I handed him the book, and he spent the next few minutes leafing through it, but then returned to eating the cupcake.
"I love this. It's so different from the usual boring things people make. Although..." He took another bite. "I have a suggestion." He studied the cupcake. "The cake is light, fluffy, and complex, and the creamy, tangy frosting complements it so well. It might be even better with an edible garnish. Like a sugared mint leaf." He took another bite. "Or a sugared violet," he said with his mouth half full. "That would be lovely."
I gaped in surprise. He was right. It would be lovely. I'd thought about topping them with fresh, mouth-puckering blackberries, but these suggestions were so much more elegant.”
― Rajani LaRocca, Midsummer's Mayhem

“Better keep the young on lemons and lavender until they've reached the age of discretion.”
― Henry Miller, Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch

“lavender and brandy
under your
tongue for an entire
weekend. blessed.
joy as a watermelon
seed i keep
swallowing on
purpose.”
― Levi Cain

“Before the blue of night meets the pink of sunrise, there is a transition of lavender. It's a gradient of color that stretches its fade through time, and that gives each moment a unique and exquisite existence.”
― Jarod Kintz, The Lewis and Clark of The Ozarks

“Seasons passed by. I always loved to watch the trees in our garden. With the first rain, the leaves would
drench themselves. Slowly they would grow tired of the rain and droop. So would I, grow tired of
waiting for him to look at me, talk to me. Slowly the leaves would dry up, and fall to the ground. It
resembled a naked and shameless woman, trying to woo her husband. And the season would change,
and the leaves would shoot slowly trying to gain the lost vigor. It would start blooming and look in its
best form. The tree would be so overwhelmed by its own beauty that it would call upon the butterfly
and birds. It would make everyone happy. But has anyone wondered how it feels? It feels like me.”
― Ranjani Ramachandran, Fourteen Urban Folklore

“His ego and complex always overpowered his emotions.”
― Ranjani Ramachandran, Fourteen Urban Folklore

“Blonde hair and blue eyes," she repeated. "The lavender fairy."
"Now, hang on a minute!"
"Just like the lavender fairy has. There's an old story about the beautiful fairy called Lavandula who was born in the wild lavender of the Lure mountain. She grew up and began to wander further from the mountain, looking for somewhere special to make her home. One day she came across the stony, uncultivated landscapes of Haute Provence, and the pitiful sight made her so sad she cried hot tears- hot mauve tears that fell into the ground and stained it. And that is where, ever afterwards, the lavender of her birthplace began to grow.”
― Deborah Lawrenson, The Sea Garden

“After Twiss went out the barn, Milly went up to their bedroom with the brown paper bag. She looked out the window before she turned it upside down and the bars of lavender soap shaped like seashells and the card shaped like a rectangle came tumbling out. Asa's name graced the front of the card. A note graced the back.

'I know why you did it, Milly. Bella swings a golf club just like him.'

Milly sat a long time on her old twin mattress, staring at the fleur-de-lis carved into the headboard, at the life that didn't belong to her and the life that did, before she placed the soaps beneath the velvet tray in her jewelry box and closed it. She never washed her hands with a single one of the seashell-shaped soaps, although from time to time, when Twiss had gone for a walk or to the barn, she'd open her jewelry box and examine her only secret.
'La joie de vivre.' The scent of lavender. Forgiveness. Age-old love.”
― Rebecca Rasmussen, The Bird Sisters

“He unzipped the nylon case, and inside was a discolored frame that smelled like smoke. A thin layer of soot covered the painting under the glass- a picture of an old manor house. Gothic Victorian. Wisteria climbed the wall near the entrance, the pale-lavender blossoms clinging to the gray stone. The artist had brushed flowers below the windows as well, though those colors had been muted by the smoke damage.”
― Melanie Dobson, Shadows of Ladenbrooke Manor

“I loved my dish towel. This one was two-toned, and had, on one side, stitchings of fat purple roses on a lavender background, and on the other side, fat lavender roses on a purple background. Which side to use? An optical-illusion namesake with which I could dry our dishes. It was soft and worn and smelled like no-nonsense laundry detergent.”
― Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

“Estelle had even tried her own concoction of rosemary and lavender, which she plucked from the little herb garden around the back of her cottage. Boiling the leaves down until only their dark oils remained, she would then mix in a good amount of Umbrian olive oil sent by her niece, Gloria, from London. The oil left her Mediterranean skin taut like snappy brindle berries, a fact that spurred envy among the old townswomen and prompted Dervla Quigley to spread rumors that Estelle Delmonico had made a deal with the fairies, for sure.”
― Marsha Mehran, Pomegranate Soup

“Julie started the engine, and the air around the BSA danced to life, this time enclosing them in a roaring privacy - a momentary country, trembling at the curb. Outside, beyond their borders, the honey-slow twilight was thinning and quickening to a cold, dusty lavender. Skateboarders hurtled past like moths, urgently contorted, one-dimensional in the pale headlights rushing up the hill toward them.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Folk of the Air

“Stella crossed to the sink beneath the window to fill the kettle. "Would you like lavender tea?”
― Ellen Read, Broken

“Rachael dropped her handbag on the kitchen bench and sat on a stool. “How do you cope with everything?” “I have staff. Donna is still here. She helps in the gift shop. Pete and Courtney work on the farm. They work longer hours when the lavender is harvested. Karen and Sue - you haven’t met them - help me make lavender candles and pot pourri”
― Ellen Read, Broken

“Needing to shake off the negative energy, I decide to prepare one of the desserts---something sweet to take away the sour taste of fear infiltrating my mouth. I'm going to tackle the strawberry and lavender sorbet---the herb from Garrance's rooftop garden, the strawberries sweet and juicy. Thankfully, the recipe is easy---especially when you have three Thermomix machines at your disposal.
After commandeering most of the ingredients, I smell the lavender Garrance had bestowed upon us and another fantasy sets in. Charles and I are running through a field bursting with purple flowers in the South of France, smiling and laughing. We're kissing, softly at first, and then we're naked, exploring each other's bodies, his rippled stomach, and floating on a cloud made from the fragrance of the lavender---sweet and woodsy---
"Kate, where'd you go? You look all dreamy," says Charles.
"Nowhere. Just thinking," I say.
"You're sexy as hell when you think. You bite those full lips of yours and it's kind of distracting when I'm trying to work.”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

“And the thought of her garden---ballast and bread, those blooms and vines and spinney sprigs. Herbs that comforted, cured. Growing conditions had been ideal that summer. Resplendent. Delphinium spires soared their prettiest periwinkle blue; roses clambered over the arbor, luxuriant ivy slumped languidly like legions of lounging ladies. Myrtle gleamed so waxen Lavender almost saw a miniature of her face reflected back in its leaves. Ferns forested. Hollyhocks hollered their joy. Aromatic too, pears from her mother's tree. Even the moss spread ardent, brashly ambitious. The borage grew boisterous. And yarrow, always yarrow. And purple lavender, her namesake. Though some flower dictionaries ascribed a wary, ambiguous meaning to lavender, her mother long ago had asserted the contrary, that lavender equated calmness, serenity.”
― Jeanette Lynes, The Apothecary's Garden

“My best friend and other business partner, Adeena Awan, was embracing spring's floral vibes by pushing her signature lavender chai latte as well as her new seasonal creations, including a lavender honey latte (the honey sourced from Elena's uncle's local apiary), lavender calamansi-ade, and a sampaguita matcha latte (I didn't really like floral flavors, but even I had to admit the matcha drink was stunning).
As for me, I was leaning into "spring means green" and had prepared pandan-pistachio shortbread and brownies with a pandan cheesecake swirl. I also came up with a red bean brownie recipe, which wasn't particularly spring-like, but hey, I was in a brownie mood. And for a quick no-bake option, I developed buko pandan mochi Rice Krispie treats, which would be sure to delight our youngest customers”
― Mia P. Manansala, Murder and Mamon

“Just as the first sun-kissed apricots arrive at the market, lavender fields all over Provence are bursting into bloom. They are a perfect pair.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“Here." Kerresha entered again with a brown, glass bottle with a ring of colorful beads on top. Looked like something straight out of witch doctor's medicine bag. "Hold this to your nose."
Marvina waved the bottle away. "I don't mess with new age, psychedelic stuff. I stick with God."
"It's lavender. I'm pretty sure God made it."
Kerresha twisted the top off the bottle and held it under Marvina's nose.
The scent, deep, calming, and pure, filled her the same way she imagined her body would feel if somebody poured the color purple all through her soul.
A minute later, the anxiety level had gone from a 7 down to a 2.”
― Michelle Stimpson, Sisters with a Side of Greens