Quotes About Roses

God's very service is wages; His ways are strewed with roses, and paved with joy that is unspeakable and full of glory, and with peace that passeth understanding.

Do you splurge or do you hoard? Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years? Is life too short, or is it going to be too long? Do you work as hard as you can, or do you slow down to smell the roses?

She glanced over, watching her mother deadhead roses.

Moonlight. The silvery sorcery of moonlight slipped through the windows. Roses. The fragile fragrance of roses floated on the air. Music. The muted magic of Beethoven drifted in from the apartment below.

Can it be that distance makes the heart feel fonder, and scatters roses where nettles really grow?

Such are the visions which proffer great cornucopias full of fruit to the solitary traveller, or murmur in his ear like sirens lolloping away on the green sea waves, or are dashed in his face like bunches of roses, or rise to the surface like pale faces which fishermen flounder through floods to embrace.

What a vision of loneliness and riot the thought of Margaret Cavendish brings to mind! as if some giant cucumber had spread itself over all the roses and carnations in the garden and choked them to death.

Every woman, even the most respectable, had roses blooming under glass; lips cut with a knife; curls of Indian ink; there was design, art, everywhere; a change of some sort had undoubtedly taken place.

Translating this to the spiritual regions as their wont is, the poets sang beautifully how roses fade and petals fall. The moment is brief they sang; the moment is over; one long night is then to be slept by all.

No jewels, save my eyes, do I own, but I have a rose which is even softer than my rosy lips. And a quiet youth said: 'There is nothing softer than your heart.' And I lowered my gaze...

but I say give me rain, rain, rain on the shingle roof for roses and inspiration every time

He felt as if he were blooming outward, his heart one of their own roses unfurling in deepest winter, which scared him because...well, roses that bloomed in the winter got frozen in the cold.

The flowers were opulent, full-blown, topple shower petals at a touch. He thought that she might topple that way, falling all at once into his hand, a soft drift of blossom between his fingers. The roses bowed their extravagant heads, nodding, but she was all stiff prim and black, back in her bonnet, so that he could not see her face unless she looked directly at him.

There's some language of flowers stuff that says what color roses mean what things. So I got you all the colors of roses they had because your everything….

Treaties are like roses and young girls — they last while they last.

Treaties are like roses and young girls. They last while they last.

A bit of fragrance always clings to the hand that gives roses.

Her poetry cries crimson roses and laughs in spritely daisies.

Truths and roses have thorns about them.

Love sees roses without thorns.

In the year 1824, in a pleasant town located between Schenectady and Albany, stood the handsome colonial residence of Hamilton Van Rensselaer. Solemn hedges shut in the family pride and hid the family sorrow, and about the borders of its spacious gardens, where even the roses seemed subdued, there played a child. The stately house oppressed her, and she loved the sombre garden best.

God made a wonderful mother, A Mother who never grows old. He made her smile of sunshine. And he molded he heart of pure of pure gold. In her eyes he placed bright shinning stars. In her cheeks fair roses you see. God made a wonderful mother. And he gave that wonderful mother to me.

White roses and red roses: those were beautiful colours to think of. And the cards for first place and second place and third place were beautiful colours too: pink and cream and lavender. Lavender and cream and pink roses were beautiful to think of. Perhaps a wild rose might be like those colours and he remembered the song about the wild rose blossoms on the little green place. But you could not have a green rose. But perhaps somewhere in the world you could.

I love flowers, I'd love to have the whole place swimming in roses.