“In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on rowThat mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard amid the guns below.We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,Loved and were loved, and now we lieIn Flanders fields.Take up our quarrel with the foe:To you from failing hands we throwThe torch; be yours to hold it high.If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies growIn Flanders fields.”
John McCrae
“In Flanders Field the poppies bow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below”
“In Flanders fields the poppies blow / Between the crosses, row on row.”
“Flanders: I think we hit something. Homer: I hope it's Flanders”
Dan Castellaneta
“Truth, like the juice of the poppy, in small quantities, calms men; in larger, heats and irritates them, and is attended by fatal consequences in excess”
Walter Savage Landor
“That we find a crystal or a poppy beautiful means that we are less alone, that we are more deeply inserted into existence than the course of a single life would lead us to believe.”
John Berger
“I don't think it's decreasing. There are poppies everywhere -- in places where there were no poppies when we were young. The opium trade is still flourishing. Those who say it is decreasing are blinded by the SPDC.”
Colonel Yod Suk
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