Best 977 quotes in «rose quotes» category

When we see a soul whose acts are all regal, graceful, and pleasant as roses, we must thank God that such things can be and are.

When wine drinkers tell me they taste notes of cherries, tobacco and rose petals, usually all I can detect is a whole lot of jackass.

When you are passionate about life, it keeps you young. Sometimes I wake up at 4:00 am just to see how my roses look.

When you doubt between words, use the plainest, the commonest, the most idiomatic. Eschew fine words as you would rouge; love simple ones as you would the native roses on your cheek.

When you return, the youngest of the seers, Released from fetters of ancestral pose, There will be beauty waiting down the years Revisions of the ruby and the rose.

When you're watching television, you don't want to watch a show where everything just works out. You don't want to see a relationship that's just blossoming and everyone's happy and sunshine and roses all the time. That's also not true in life.

While working with a camera crew supervising flight testing of advanced aircraft at Edward's Air Force Base, California, the camera crew filmed the landing of a strange disc object that flew in over their heads and landed on a dry lake nearby. A camera crewman approached the saucer, it rose up above the area and flew off at a speed faster than any known aircraft.

Which is weird. But not the craziest thing I can think of Rose doing.ʺ I appreciated the support.

While rose-buds scarcely show'd their hue, But coyly linger'd on the thorn.

Who but knows How it goes! Life's a last year's Nightingale, Love's a last year's rose.

Who gathers the withered rose?

With 'New Rose Hotel,' I knew that I was getting paid a $100,000 fee to write, produce, and direct, and that's all I was going to get.

With five to ten hundred pure-minded young women threading the streets of the village every evening unattended, vice must slink away, like frost before the rising sun.

With its leaves so rich and heavy with elation and its crimson face made brighter with visions of divinity the shadow of a certain rose looks just like an angel eating light.

Who's the new Ramones, who's the new Guns 'N Roses, who's the new Motley Crue, who's the new Black Sabbath? They're coming, they're on the street, they're 16, 17 years old.

With me it is exceptionally true that the Presidency is no bed of roses.

With the garden I planted for the Reina Sofia, each plant related to different celebrations along the calendar - Christmas with evergreen trees, Valentine's Day with roses, Halloween with pumpkins. All these symbols are so culturally loaded, but they are organic living entities - just like the fish in the tanks. They grow on their own. The symbolic ecosystem is growing without a narrative anymore. It's a physical and mental landscape.

With thorns in the inner world there will always be roses in the outer world, in law-able compensation.

With the withering of the rose, and with each fallen petal, Allah is reminding us that everything here is passing away. He is reminding us that nothing in this world will remain, except for Allah.

With thought, with the ideal, is immortal hilarity, the rose of joy. Round it all the muses sing.

Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.

You are so beautiful, it hurts me sometimes. -Dimitri to Rose

Wouldn't it be nice if roses could talk? I'm sure they could tell us such lovely things.

Yes, there was music after all. The sound of the swamp rose up to him. The sound of frogs and crickets, of birds and 'gators, of life in every puddle and pond and knothole and leaf. I Travel By Night

Would Jove appoint some flower to reign, in matchless beauty on the plain, the Rose (mankind will all agree). The Rose the queen of flowers should be.

Years should be nothing to you. Who asked you to count them or consider them? In the world of wild Nature, time is measured by seasons only-the bird does not know how old it is-the rose-tree does not count its birthdays!

Yes, Roza. I did want you. I still do. I wish... we could be together. -Dimitri to Rose on their relationship

You can't build marriage on a foundation of selfish hedonism, because that would be to promise people only roses, and marriage is also thorns.

You know those adages about smelling the roses and chasing butterflies? The markets are my butterflies and my roses.

You follow the same paths of thought as before. Only, they appear strewn with roses.

You have a touch in letter writing that is beyond me. Something unexpected, like coming round a corner in a rose garden and finding it still daylight.

You have to protect her. The more she uses it, the worse it'll get. Stop her, Rose. Stop her before they notice, before they notice and take her away too. Get her out of here." [...] "Don't let her use the power!. . .Save her. Save her from herself!

You know, maybe I was just born in the wrong time, but I love all things romantic. Puffy understands that. For my last birthday, he covered my hotel room floor with rose petals and had flowers and candles all over the room.

You know why Guns n' Roses aren't a good band? Because no black people listen to them.

You must be mistaken," Isabel said, unconcerned by the insult that the words carried. "I assure you i am not. Voluptas is nearly always portrayed wrapped in roses. If that were not enough, her faces confirms her identity." "You cannot tell a goddess from a face carved in marble," she scoffed. "You can tell Voluptas by her face." "I've never even heard of this goddess, and you know what she looks like?" "She is the goddess of sensual pleasure." Isabel's mouth fell open at the words. She could not think of a single thing to say in response. "Oh

You must have a bladder like Lake Erie. I think empires rose and fell in the time it took you to pee. I could hear it the whole time." Thank you. Do you want something?

You see something you like?

Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, Be careful ere ye enter in, to fill Your baskets high With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines Savory latter-mint, and columbines.

Young sailors once stood under a square sail, gazing wonderingly across the water to where a strange shore rose about the sea - a New World.

You're so stupid, Rose!

You smell a rose through a fence: If two should smell it, what matter?

You see something you like?" I asked, echoing something I'd said to him ling ago, when he'd caught me in a compromising position at school. "Lots," he said. -Rose (Roza) to Dimitri

You stay out here a little while, an' if you smell any roses, you come let me smell, too.

You've asked me out tons of times." "Not really. I've made inappropriate suggestions and frequently pushed for nudity. But I've never asked you out on a real date.

And, finally, I noticed that a hot flush was spreading over me, and that the look in his eyes was doing more to me than Jesse's kisses had. Dimitri was quiet and distant sometimes, but he also had a dedication and an intensity that I'd never seen in any other person. I wondered how that kind of power and strength translated into…well, sex. I wondered what it'd be like for him to touch me and—shit! What was I thinking? Was I out of my mind? Embarrassed, I covered my feelings with attitude. "You see something you like?" I asked. "Get dressed.

A book about books is like a poem about poetry: Books are knowledge, paid for, all. Readers - horses in a stall. Stallions should always run. Lest they stale become, in turn. Running waters are most clear. In some books, you disappear – lose yourself, and track of time. How I wish that one was mine... Mine, to have, to write, to read... Mine, just like a flying steed. Mine, forever, - to improve. Would I then, of me, approve? I would not, I can't... myself. I'm but dust, swept off a shelf. Fly, can I, just 'til I'm settled, down, beside my flower, petalled.

A cactus is a desert's rose.

All these pricks gathering around her body, trying to reach and pierce her rose.

An addition that takes time to depart, and sometimes, never leaves at all. A smell, a touch, thoughts, moments, feelings, movements, words left unsaid, words barely spoken; they all have a distinct sense, distinct fragrances! .... A pungent of cinnamon, an aroma of a rose, a summer breeze, a sweet smile like a per-fume that lingers on and on... endlessly.

A beautiful rose with an ugly soul wilts quickly.