Celia Laighton Thaxter (1835–94) was an American writer of poetry and stories. She was born in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Thaxter grew up in the Isles of Shoals, first on White Island, where her father, Thomas Laighton, was a lighthouse keeper, and then on Smuttynose and Appledore Islands.
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I am fully and intensely aware that plants are conscious of love and respond to it as they do to nothing else.
—Celia Thaxter
Topics: Gardening
Take that Poppy seed, for instance: it lies in your palm, the merest atom of matter, hardlyvisible, a speck, a pin’s point in bulk, but within it is imprisoned a spirit of beauty ineffable, which will break its bonds and emerge from the dark ground and blossom in a splendor so dazzling as to baffle all powers of description.
—Celia Thaxter
One golden day redeems a weary year.
—Celia Thaxter
Topics: Day
He who is born with a silver spoon in his mouth is generally considered a fortunate person, but his good fortune is small compared to that of the happy mortal who enters this world with a passion for flowers in his soul.
—Celia Thaxter
Topics: Gardening
There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.
—Celia Thaxter
Topics: Summer
I wonder what spendthrift chose to spill
Such a bright gold under my windowsill!
Is it fair gold? Does it glitter still?
Bless me! It’s a daffodil!
—Celia Thaxter
Topics: Flowers
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