Quotes About Rose

That night the flame gave the women's faces in those close quarters the stuttering light-and-dark appearance of people in a Flemish painting, all eye-gleam and contrapuntal shadow and rose cheek and curved hand—if, in fact, the Flemish artists had ever painted groups of women together without men.

Have you ever seen a donkey smelling a beautiful rose? Donkeys aren't interested in roses, they like thorn bushes or watermelon rinds!

You don't blast a heart open," she said. "You coax and nurture it open, like the sun does to a rose.

The snow had turned to glass, growing green and blue; a rose colour filled our eyes until they almost died. We stayed until we too felt that we too were metamorphosing into trees. We could feel the frost-cold roots beneath our feet, growing, binding us to to the ground.

Romano Pontífice, guárdate de acercarte A la ciudad regada por dos ríos: Tu sangre vendrá allí cerca a esputar, Cuando florezca la rosa, tú y los tuyos.

Of course, the machinery was also operating on similar frequencies to the TARDIS, so there's a possibility that she had a hand in it somewhere...' 'The TARDIS...' Rose looked at him quizzically. 'Yeah, well, she does like to...interfere sometimes.' 'Right. I wonder where she gets that from.

I drew my bath and scattered dried rose petals in the water. I stepped into the tub, pinned up my hair, dipped into the bowl of mayonnaise that had been mixed with fennel and rosemary and soaked secretly in the refrigerator for two days.

Deasupra, cerul trandafiriu era atât de melancolic, de transparent, m?t?sos, c? p?rea burta unui uriaÈ™ animal de mare care ar fi traversat neregularit??ile unui fund de ocean.

My love is like a red, red rose...

You understand that photons representing all colors of the rainbow stream from the sun and strike the surface of the rose, but that, as a result of the molecular composition of pigments in the rose, it's the red photons that bounce off its petals and up to your eyes, and so you see red.

His heart was a rose and in his skull another rose bloomed. The room was full of grace. A sweet, clean grace, not washed clean, but clean as the innersides of the inner petals of a newly forced rosebud.

will begin with the analogy of the rose. In the smell of the rose, there is hardly a fragrance that can compare with its beauty. But how would you describe this fragrance? The way we would describe it is that it is closer to the word and feeling of love than any other flower on the Earth

Understanding, in fact, is my job, that's what writers are for--to try to understand everyone and everything and put this understanding into words, finished to the gossamer fineness of a rose petal, words made supple and obedient, words cut to hold the reader's mind like a well-made glove that fits like second skin.

But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.

By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.

The sharp thorn often produces delicate roses.

he rose from his knees, drew the candles more conveniently, and sat down to study his finds, supervised by the cat.

He who wants a rose must respect the thorn.

I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley.