Rose Quotes - Page 31

• You stay out here a little while, an' if you smell any roses, you come let me smell, too.

  John Steinbeck

  Smell, Littles, Let Me

  John Steinbeck (2016). “The Grapes of Wrath”, p.197, Hamilton Books

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• Do you know, I always imagine that the subway trains are dragons,' Rose said to Bear as they clung to his coat for support in the swaying car. 'Tearing back and forth across the city in their underground caves, devouring people and spitting them out at random destinations.

  Regina Doman

  Dragons, Cities, People

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• I won't get killed,' Rose protested. Is that a promise?' Fish asked dryly, stirring his tea. 'If you break your word, I'll never believe you again.' Rose shook her head at him. 'How can you even taste your tea if you put that much sugar in it?' Don't change the subject. I don't want to be responsible for depriving the world of Rose Brier. Under no circumstances are you allowed to help us do anything more dangerous than...change the oil in my car.

  Regina Doman

  Believe, Oil, Car

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• Bear heard Rose in the background saying, 'Why thank you, Mr. Fish.' 'Good redhead. Helpful redhead,' Fish returned.

  Regina Doman

  Bears, Helpful, Backgrounds

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• Max Rose: Vo? What kind of name is that? Spader: What kind of name is Rose? Isn't that some kind of flower?

  D. J. MacHale

  Flower, Names, Max

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• There's a black rose growing in your garden.

  Hilda Doolittle

  Garden, Black, Growing

  Hilda Doolittle (1981). “HERmione”, p.82, New Directions Publishing

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• It is only by enlarging the scope of one’s tastes and one’s fantasies, by sacrificing everything to pleasure, that the unfortunate individual called Man, thrown despite himself into this sad world, can succeed in gathering a few roses among life’s thorns

  Marquis de Sade

  Sacrifice, Men, Sacrificing Everything

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• Here and there one sees the blush of wild rose haws or the warmth of orange fruit on the bittersweet, and back in the woods is the occasional twinkle of partridgeberries. But they are the gem stones, the rare decorations which make the grays, the browns and the greens seem even more quiet, more completely at rest.

  Hal Borland

  Wild Roses, Orange, Here And There

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• He stepped back and threw his arms out. "I'm always crazy around you Rose. Here, I'm going to write an impromptu poem for you." He tipped his head back and shouted to the sky: "Rose is in red But never in blue Sharp as a thorn Fights like one too.

  Richelle Mead

  Crazy, Writing, Fighting

  Richelle Mead (2013). “Vampire Academy: The Complete Collection”, p.404, Penguin

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• Love wasn't a thing you fell in, but rose to. It was what stopped you from falling.

  Darin Strauss

  Fall

  Darin Strauss (2014). “More Than It Hurts You”, p.69, Atlantic Books Ltd

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• She's like snow in Russian," said Anna. "Snow in the evening when the sun sets and it looks like Alpengluhen, you know? And if snow had a scent it would smell like that [the rose].

  Eva Ibbotson

  Smell, Snow, Looks

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• When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget.

  Christina Rossetti

  Dream, Song, Pain

  "When I am dead, my dearest" l. 1 (1862)

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• Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, But which will bloom most constantly? The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring ,Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again, And who will call the wild-briar fair? Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now, And deck thee with holly's sheen, That, when December blights thy brow, He still may leave thy garland green.

  Emily Dickinson

  Summer, Sweet, Spring

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• It's only life. We all get through it. Not all of us complete the journey in the same condition. Along the way, some lose their legs or eyes in acidents or altercations, while others skate through the years with nothing worse to worry about than an occassional bad-hair day. I still possessed both legs and both eyes, and even my hair looked all right when I rose that Wednesday morning in late January. If I returned to bed sixteen hours later, having lost all my hair but nothing else, I would consider the day a triumph. Even minus a few teeth, I'd call it a triumph.

  Dean Koontz

  Morning, Eye, Journey

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• because you always have a clock strapped to your body, it's natural that i should think of you as the correct time: with your long blonde hair at 8:03, and your pulse-lightning breasts at 11:17, and your rose-meow smile at 5:30, i know i'm right.

  Richard Brautigan

  Thinking, Hair, Long

  Richard Brautigan (1989). “Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America, The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster, and In Watermelon Sugar”, p.149, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Every Valentine's Day, the student council sponsered a holiday fundraiser by selling roses that would be delievered in class. The roses came in four colors:white, yellow, red, pink, and the subtleties of thier meaning were parsed and analyzed by the female population to no end. Mimi had always understood it thus:white for love, yellow for friendship, red for passion, and pink for a secret crush.

  Melissa de la Cruz

  Crush, Valentine, Passion

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• My love is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: My love is like the melody That's sweetly played in tune. How fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I; And I will love thee still, my dear, Till all the seas gang dry. Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt with the sun; I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands of life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only love. And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my love, Though it were ten thousand mile.

  Robert Burns

  Running, Art, Love Is

  Robert Burns, “A Red, Red Rose”

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• Rose: You're trembling. Jack: I'll be alright.

  James Cameron

  Trembling, Alright

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• Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart; The end lost in dream, They float past our view, We only watch their glad, early start. Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose; Their widening scope, Their distant employ, We never shall know. And the stream as it flows Sweeps them away, Each one is gone Ever beyond into infinite ways. We alone stay While years hurry on, The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

  Amy Lowell

  Dream, Flower, Heart

  Amy Lowell (2009). “A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass”, p.9, ReadHowYouWant.com

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• Quick now, here, now, always- A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.

  T. S. Eliot

  Fire, Flames, Simplicity

  Four Quartets "Little Gidding" pt. 5 (1942)

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• ...as bad as it is here, it's better than being somewhere else." -Chris Rose, regarding life in Post-Katrina New Orleans

  Chris Rose

  New Orleans, Somewhere Else, Katrina

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• I scorn your idea of love,' I could not help saying, as I rose up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. 'I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Rocks, Ideas, Helping

  Charlotte Bronte, Emily Bronte, Anne Bronte (2009). “The Bronte Sisters: Three Novels: Jane Eyre; Wuthering Heights; and Agnes Grey (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.332, Penguin

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• Dead fields under a November sky, scattered rose petals brown and turning up at the edges, empty pools scummed with algae, rot, decomposition, dust.

  Stephen King

  Dust, Sky, Algae

  Stephen King (2014). “Pet Sematary”, p.63, Simon and Schuster

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• ...Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing. Beauty grown sad with its eternity Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea. Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait, For God has bid them share an equal fate; And when at last defeated in His wars, They have gone down under the same white stars, We shall no longer hear the little cry Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.

  William Butler Yeats

  Sweet, Stars, War

  William Butler Yeats (2015). “When You Are Old: Early Poems, Plays, and Fairy Tales”, p.123, Penguin

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• I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.

  Lucy Maud Montgomery

  Sweet, Nice, Believe

  Lucy Maud Montgomery (2016). “ANNE SHIRLEY Complete Series - ALL 14 Books in One Volume: Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Avonlea, Anne of the Island, Rainbow Valley, The Story Girl, Chronicles of Avonlea and more: Including the Memoirs & Letters of Lucy Maud Montgomery”, p.36, e-artnow

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