Nature's bank-dividends. [ Haliburton ]

Youth should be a savings-bank. [ Madame Swetchine ]

Now blooms the lily by the bank.
The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the glen,
And milkwhite is the slae. [ Burns ]

The rich man's son inherits cares;
The bank may break, the factory burn,
A breath may burst his bubble shares,
And soft, white hands could hardly earn
A living that would serve his turn. [ Lowell ]

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows;
Quite over-canopies with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine. [ William Shakespeare ]

That but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We'd jump the life to come. [ William Shakespeare, Macbeth ]

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows. [ William Shakespeare ]

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! [ William Shakespeare ]

Happiness - a good bank account, a good cook, and a good digestion. [ Rousseau ]

Don't stand shivering upon the bank; plunge in at once and have it over. [ Haliburton ]

Economy is a savings bank, into which men drop pennies, and get dollars in return. [ Henry Wheeler Shaw (pen name Josh Billings) ]

The capital of the orator is in the bank of the highest sentimentalities and the purest enthusiasms. [ Edward G. Parker ]

O, it came over my ear like the sweet south, that breathes upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving odor! [ William Shakespeare ]

When we do good to our fellow sufferers, we invest in a savings-bank from which the heart receives the interest. [ E. Souvestre ]

If the assassination could trammel up the consequence, and catch, with his surcease, success; that but this blow might be the be-all and the end-all here - but here, upon this bank and shoal of time, we'd jump the life to come. [ William Shakespeare ]

In the hands of genius, the driest stick becomes an Aaron's rod, and buds and blossoms out in poetry. Is he a Burns? the sight of a mountain daisy unseals the fountains of his nature, and he embalms the bonny gem in the beauty of his spirit. Is he a Wordsworth? at his touch all nature is instinct with feeling; the spirit of beauty springs up in the footsteps of his going, and the darkest, nakedest grave becomes a sunlit bank empurpled with blossoms of life. [ H. N. Hudson ]

The love of flowers seems a naturally implanted passion, without any alloy or debasing object in its motive; we cherish them in youth, we admire them in declining years; but perhaps it is the early flowers of spring that always bring with them the greatest degree of pleasure; and our affections seem to expand at the sight of the first blossom under the sunny wall, or sheltered bank, however humble its race may be. With summer flowers we seem to live, as with our neighbors, in harmony and good order; but spring flowers are cherished as private friendships. [ G. A. Sola ]