One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.
We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.
The rose does not have a why; it blossums without reason, forgetful of self and oblivious to our vision.
Take time to smell the roses. Appreciating the little things in life really can make all the difference.
I am thankful that thorns have roses.
Every rose that is sweet-scented within, That rose is telling of the secrets of the Universal.
Just remember, during the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, that there's a seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes a rose.
Live now, believe me, wait not till tomorrow; Gather the roses of life today.
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
Someday you will name me, then gently place those burning holy roses in my hair.
Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses.
Love thou rose, yet leave it on its stem.
I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
And so, surpassing my own records for dangerous, reckless behavior, I ripped off Sonya's bracelet. "I'm Rose Hathaway.
Beauty is an ecstasy; it is as simple as hunger. There is really nothing to be said about it. It is like the perfume of a rose: you can smell it and that is all.
Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.
I will soothe you and heal you, I will bring you roses. I too have been covered with thorns.
You don't blast a heart open," she said. "You coax and nurture it open, like the sun does to a rose.
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a flying: And this same flower that smiles to day, Tomorrow will be dying.
As you walk down the fairway of life you must smell the roses, for you only get to play one round.
Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
Won't you come into the garden? I would like my roses to see you.
A profusion of pink roses being ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.
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