A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove.
The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyone the sculpted flower.
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies.
The sweetest flower that blows, I give you as we part. For you it is a Rose, For me it is my heart.
I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.
Hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.
If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf, Our lives would grow together In sad or singing weather.
A profusion of pink roses being ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
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.
Oh my luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June; Oh my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune.
She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.
And the rose like a nymph to the bath addrest, Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast, Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air, The soul of her beauty and love lay bare.
Love thou rose, yet leave it on its stem.
How cunningly nature hides every wrinkle of her inconceivable antiquity under roses and violets and morning dew!
A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.
or simply:
