Best 977 quotes in «rose quotes» category

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ME AND YOU When I hold a rose, I see the soft, velvety petals and smile, because tucked between those precious petals is a special gift - the one of a fragrance, pure and sweet. When you hold a rose, you see the thorns along the stem, and you frown because those thorns can bring you pain and cause you to bleed. I see the gift. You see the tragedy. More and more I fear that one of these days someone will hand me a rose and all I will see are thorns. Talk about tragedy.

The evening Bartolomeo left her the radish rose, he also ignored the words of her gray-haired mother and gave Stella an extra serving of pappardelle, made fresh from ricotta, eggs, and goat milk, fried to perfection and dusted in sugar. They were called "gobble-ups" for a good reason, and the principessa was pleased to indulge, that is until her mother bade Bartolomeo to take the plate away. She glared at her mother and snatched one last fritter. Sugar coated the edge of her pretty lips and Bartolomeo thought he might swoon. He would give anything to kiss the sweetness away. The rose was gone when he went to clear the plates. He could only hope she had secreted it away in the finely embroidered saccoccia hanging at her hip.

The flames rose and the properties devalued into ash.

Then the best thing I can do is—" He froze. The brown eyes that had been narrowed with aggravation suddenly went wide with...what? Amazement? Awe? Or perhaps that stunned feeling I kept having when I saw him? Because suddenly, I was pretty sure he was experiencing the same thing I had earlier. He'd seen me plenty of times in Siberia. He'd seen me just the other night at the warehouse. But now...now he was truly viewing me with his own eyes. Now that he was no longer Strigoi, his whole world was different. His outlook and feelings were different. Even his soul was different. It was like one of those moments when people talked about their lives flashing before their eyes. Because as we stared at one another, every part of our relationship replayed in my mind's eye. I remembered how strong and invincible he'd been when we first met, when he'd come to bring Lissa and me back to the folds of Moroi society. I remembered the gentleness of his touch when he's bandaged my bloodies and bettered hands. I remembered him carrying me in his arms after Victor's daughter Natalie had attacked me. Most of all, I remembered the night we'd been together in the cabin, just before the Strigoi had taken him. A year. We'd known each other only a year but we'd lived a lifetime in it. And he was realizing that too, I knew as he studied me. His gaze was all-powerful, taking in every single one of my features and filing them away. Dimly, I tried to recall what I looked like today. I still wore the dress from the secret meeting and knew it looked good on me. My eyes were probably bloodshot from crying earlier, and I'd only had time for a quick brushing of my hair before heading off with Adrian. Somehow, I doubted any of it mattered. The way Dimitri was looking at me...it confirmed everything I'd suspected. The feelings he'd had for me before he'd been turned-the feelings that had become twisted while a Strigoi—were all still there. They had to be. Maybe Lissa was his savior. Maybe the rest of the Court thought she was a goddess. I knew, right then, that no matter how bedraggled I looked or how blank he tried to keep his face, I was a goddess to him.

The loveliest roses sometimes bear the ugliest thorns.

The most beautiful rose still has to contend with ugly thorns.

The next gen won't ever know the thrill of finding an old, desiccated rose buried inside a book. Because none would be reading books anyway.

- Then… it was like… I don’t even know how to describe it. Color and light and music and life and joy and love… so many wonderful things, all the lovely things that make up the world and make it worth living.

The more you love roses the more you must bear with thorns.

The petals are the texture of his lips. The color is mine.

There is a rose in me In there Somewhere, amongst the thorns Do you dare?

There is a rose in every heart. Enlightenment is recognizing that rose.

There are no roses in my yard: what wind brought you? But I suddenly come from far away. I was sick for a moment. No wind whatsoever brought you now. Now you’re here. What you were isn’t you, or else the whole rose would be here.

There is no way to find a logical way to deal with this when logic isn't involved.

The rose I gave you was an emblem of my heart,' said she; 'would you take it away and leave me here alone?' 'Would you give me your hand too, if I asked it?' 'Have I not said enough?

the rest of the guardians are all checking out the explosion," I realised. Pieces began coming together-including Lissa's lack of surprise over the commotion. "Oh no. You had Christian blow up ancient Moroi artifacts." "Of course not," said Eddie. He seemed shocked that I would have suggested such an atrocity. "Other fire users would be able to tell if he did." "Well, that's something," I said. I should have had more faith in their sanity. Or maybe not. "We used C4," explained Mikhail. "Where on earth did you-

There was an old belief that in the embers Of all things their primordial form exists, And cunning alchemists Could re-create the rose with all its members From its own ashes, but without the bloom, Without the lost perfume Ah me! what wonder-working, occult science Can from the ashes in our hearts once more The rose of youth restore? What craft of alchemy can bid defiance To time and change, and for a single hour Renew this phantom-flower?

The rose draws our eye and the thorn our blood.

The sky blue strengthens slowly, the dawn light rosy and pale the summer song of our romance begin to unveil...with every heart beat and the waves' breath...the time stood in harmony still. Your morning kiss my hands could feel...by your lips soft, so warm, so very gentle, nice and full of life...

They all knew about me and Dimitri," I said, wondering if I'd be saying any of this sober. "But I never told them we were together."  "You didn't have to. It's written all over your face." "They acted like I was his widow or something." "You might as well be." We reached the room, and she helped me sit down on the bed. "Not a lot of people get married around here. If you're with someone long enough, they figure it's almost the same." ~Rose & Sydney, Pg.140/141

The spell. Victor said you had to want me... to care about me... for it to work." When he didn't say anything, I tried to grip his shirt, but my fingers were too weak. "Did you? Did you want me?" His words came out thickly. "Yes, Roza. I did want you. I still do. I wish... we could be together." "Then why did you lie to me?" We reached the clinic, and he managed to open the door while still holding me. As soon as he stepped inside, he began yelling for help. "Why did you lie?" I murmured again. Still holding me in his arms, he looked down at me. I could hear voices and footsteps getting closer. "Because we can't be together." "Because of the age thing, right?" I asked. "Because you're my mentor?" His fingertip gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. "That's part of it," he said. "But also... well, you and I will both be Lissa's gaurdians someday. I need to protect her at all cost. If a pack of Strogoi come, I need to throw my body between them and her." I know that. Of course that's what you have to do." The black sparkles were dancing in front of my eyes again. I was fading out. "No. If I let myself love you, I won't throw myself in front of her. I'll throw myself in front of you.

We could, you know, go out for hot dogs. Don’t worry—they’re not actually dogs. It’s just a name. They’re these meat things that you put on buns—that’s a kind of bread—and then you top them with other things and—”             “I know what a hot dog is,” interrupted Mark. “You do?” I asked, legitimately surprised. “How?” “We’re not that remote. We have TV and movies. Besides, I’ve left Siberia, you know. I’ve been to the U.S.” “Really? Did you try a hot dog?”             “No,” he said. “I was offered one … but it didn’t look that appetizing.”             “What!” I exclaimed. “Blasphemy. They’re delicious.”             “Aren’t they compressed animal parts?” he pushed.             “Well, yeah… I think so. But so is sausage.”             Mark shook his head. “I don’t know. Something’s just not right about a hot dog.”             “Not right? I think you mean so right.

To ensure the fairytale ends well, I will stand by her side until she trusts me.

Tonight I miss you like the sky misses his moon; a delicate epiphany growing on grass. I serenade the breeze into dancing a cha cha cha; the mountains echo in the background. September sky never looked more charming; or the sublime petals of the rose looked so graceful.

Tu reviendras me dire adieu, et je te ferai cadeau d'un secret.

Two people, one city, different times; connected by a memoir. Can love exist in a city destined for decades of misery?

They whirled around in the light dance of a duchess entering a ball—majestic yet understated—a spiraling splash of purity of color that took shape under nature’s watch. A newly-sculpted garden burst forth, glistening in an afternoon sun. It welcomed the dusty pink rose, who stood beside its fellows, basked themselves in their own serenity of white, triumphant red, or cheery yellow. It swayed in the breath of a wind, caressing each and becoming more. It was a mixture of quiet and thunderous, light and dark, shyness and boldness. It was a mixture of the quiet strength and overwhelming courage that the human soul might wish to one day possess.

What's rose? A tragic or romantic flower?

We live in everyone. I live in you. You live in me. There is no gap, no distance.

When you look at a rose try to focus on its beauty, not its thorns.

Whenever we see a deserted rose, we immediately think about a broken relationship and we imagine the sadness they went through without thinking the poor dead rose ever!

When the Root and Branch were young, when the Rose still grew unplucked upon the tree; when all our lands were new and green and we danced without care, then, we were immortal... We left those lands for the world where time dwells, dancing, that we might see the passage of the sun and the growing of the world. Here we may die, and where we can fall, and here King ___ has stopped his dancing.

When the devil offers you a rose, its petals are laced with poison.

When we say "transformation," it means that nothing of the old has remained. Something totally new has flowered within you. Now you look at a rose plant that is full of thorns. Springtime came and rose flowers burst out — it is a transformation. The thorns are still there — there are more thorns than flowers — but we do not call it a thorn plant. We call it a rose plant because of that single rose. Everyone's attention goes more towards that single rose than a hundred thorns that are on the plant, isn't it? So all the thorns in you, maybe you cannot remove them right now, but if one rose flower blossoms, everyone is willing to overlook those things.

Why?" I asked softly. The word was carried away on the wind, but he heard. "Because I want you." I gave him a sad smile, wondering if we'd meet again in the land of the dead. "Wrong answer," I told him. I let go. [...] I looked him in the eye. "I will always love you." Then I plunged the stake into his chest. It wasn't as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging. I struggled to get the stake in deep enough to his heart, unsure if I could do it from this angle. Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one. "That's what I was supposed to say..." he gasped out.

Where there are no thorns there are no roses.

Why bring him in my life at all when he never was meant to stay?

You approve?" I asked, spinning around. He slipped an arm around my waist. "Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping you'd show up in something a lot sluttier. Something that would scandalize my parents." "Sometimes it's like you don't even care about me as a person," I observed as we walked inside. "It's like you're just using me for shock value." "It's both, little dhampir. I care about you, and I'm using you for shock value.

You are a blooming rose. Keep on blooming and keep on inspiring everyone!

Yes, Rose. Love is a wonderful feeling!

You are like a rose Soft, glowing and evolving It’s time for you To let go of the deadly thorns Never trust The guy who claims He misses you but never puts In effort to actually Set plans with you Fall in love With someone Who helps you to fly high And not with someone Who cannot lift you up When you crash down You are like a rose Soft, glowing and evolving It’s time for you To let go of the deadly thorns

You cannot steal a roses beauty, even if you cover it with thorns.

You can’t gather much if you won’t go on risk expedition. Leaders never fear the thorns; they’ll still go in for the beautiful roses no matter the number of pricks they’ll get.

You can see a rose both in two ways. First, through its beautiful petals. The other, through its thorns

You'll be eighteen soon, but even so…" He sighed. "When this comes out, a lot of people aren't going to be happy." "Yeah, well, they can deal." Rumors and gossip I could handle. "I also have a feeling your mother's going to have a very ugly conversation with me." "You're about to face down Strigoi, and my mother's the one you're scared of?

You could help someone else in a relationship. you could strengthen them and support them. but you couldn't actually do everything for them. you couldn't solve all their problems.

You know what we need?" "A new plan?" asked Lissa. "A miracle?" asked Eddie. I paused and glared at them both before responding. Since when had they become the comedians here? "No.

You don't get drown by falling into a river. You get drown by remaining there. Falling accidentally and rising immediately was what distinguished Thomas Edison and Abraham Lincoln from the rest.

You’re a prickly, stubborn, spirited woman.” “Don’t forget crude, rude, and vulgar.” “Only when it suits you. You’re sly when occasion calls for it, direct to the point of forgetting tact even exists, sarcastic, fierce, I did mention stubborn, didn’t I?” “Yes,” she said dryly. “You’re also smart, kind, gentle, beautiful, and always cling to your personal integrity, even when it’s in your best interests to abandon it.” A little warm feeling spread through her chest, and even her natural suspicion that he was lying couldn’t quite extinguish it. Where was he going with this? “You’re also quite funny,” he said. “Oh, I amuse you?” He gave her one of his devastating, slightly wicked smiles. “You have no idea.” Arrogant ass. “And all of that means what?” “Just that I mean to have you.” She frowned at him. “I mean to have you, Rose, you and all of your thorns. I’m a disagreeable and stubborn bastard, but I’m not a fool. You didn’t really expect me to pass you up, did you?

Your... Your aura. It's... amazing. It's shining. I mean, it always shines, but today... Well I've never seen anything like it. I didn't expect that after everything that happened.' I shifted around uncomfortably. If I lit up around Dimitri normally, what on earth happened to my aura post-sex?