Quotes About Roses

Una de las cosas más trágicas que conozco de la naturaleza humana es que todos tendemos a posponer la vida. Todos soñamos con algún mágico jardín de rosas en el horizonte, en vez de disfrutar de las rosas que florecen hoy delante de nuestra ventana».

Do not be tempted by English roses. Their beauty fades, but their thorns are forever.

Cantó el amor, y el canto suyo era tan límpido y puro como el pensar de una doncella, como los sueños de un niño, como la luna en los cielos, nocturna diosa indolente de los misterios y suspiros. Cantó el dolor y el olvido, cantó las rosas y las brumas, cantó lejanas tierras donde sus lágrimas se derramaban en la soledad; cantó asimismo marchitas flores de la vida teniendo apenas dieciocho.

Se ouviram, sabem que só me resta fazer uma coisa: deitar-me aqui à beira-mar, na minha praia coberta de pétalas de rosa e entregar-me ao meu sono interminável.

A life with love will have some thorns, but a life without love will have no roses. —Dr. Seuss" ? Ellery Adams, The Vanishing Type

Yearning for sun and starlight, roses and winter, together.

There was a strange exciting smell in the air - the smell of wine, cigar smoke, and perfume, mingled with the scent of the roses. The bright colors merged into one another, and the music rose and fell.

They soar, they are somewhere mid-flight, The words of love and liberation And I'm succumbing to stage-fright, My lips – ice cold in trepidation. But soon, where birches, thin and humble, Caress the windows with their leaves, - The voice of the unseen will rumble And roses will be tied in wreaths.

How can you look at Nieva, How can on the bridges you rise? With a reason I'm sad since the time You appeared before my eyes. Sharp are black angels' wings, The last judgment is coming soon, And raspberry fires, like roses, In the white snow bloom.

A thousand pretty ways we'll find To mock old Winter's starving reign; We'll bid the violets spring again, Bid rich poetic roses blow, Peeping agove his heaps of snow; We'll dress his withered cheeks in flowers, And on his smooth bald head Fantastic garlands bind.

Sandalwood - She recognized sandalwood. That was their mother's jewelry box, that smell. They used to take turns pushing their face into it and breathing deep. Cinnamon, and something else: floral, but not sweet. Darkly intoxicating, what black roses would smell like.

Four of the roses were on fire. They stood up straight and pure on the stalk, gripping the dark like prophets and howling colossal intimacies from the back of their fused throats. - XXVII. MITWELT

If only the herdsman had not brought him up with the flocks, not reared him, Paris, Alexander, to watch his flock by the clear springs where the nymphs rise, and the rich pastures starred with roses and hyacinths for the goddesses to gather.

Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses

then, as though it had been waiting on a near by roof for their arrival, the moon came slanting suddenly through the vines and turned the girl's face the color of white roses.

Beauty is only to be admired, only to be loved - to be harvested carefully and then flung at a chosen lover like a gift of roses. It seems to me, so far as I can judge clearly at all, that my beauty would be used like that...

I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses—

Beauty and love pass, I know... Oh, there's sadness, too. I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses--

Life is full of paradoxes, as roses are of thorns.

Circondati di rose, ama, bevi e taci. Il resto è niente.

And the dawn grew strangely and slowly over those unwonted lands, pouring upon them the colours that day after day our daffodils, and day after day our wild roses, through all the weeks of their season, drink deep with voluptuous assemblies in utterly silent riot.

Wild roses are fairest, and nature a better gardener than art.

Hither, hither, from thy home, Airy sprite, I bid thee come! Born of roses, fed on dew, Charms and potions canst thou brew? Bring me here, with elfin speed, The fragrant philter which I need. Make it sweet and swift and strong, Spirit, answer now my song!

Always keep mint on your windowsill in August, to ensure that buzzing flies will stay outside, where they belong. Don't think the summer is over, even when roses droop and turn brown and the stars shift position in the sky. Never presume August is a safe or reliable time of the year.