Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Jenim Dibie

Quote by Jenim Dibie

“I walk in the rain and cry with it. I rise with the sun and set with it. I bloom with the rose and fall with it.”

Quote by Jenim Dibie

Author

Jenim Dibie

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Jenim Dibie. more

You May Also Like

“Under the bluffs that overhung the marsh he came upon thickets of wild roses, with flaming buds, just beginning to open. Where they had opened, their petals were stained with that burning rose-colour which is always gone by noon, -- a dye made of sunlight and morning and moisture, so intense that it cannot possibly last. . . must fade, like ecstasy. Niel took out his knife and began to cut the stiff stems, crowded with red thorns. He would make a bouquet for a lovely lady; a bouquet gathered off the cheeks of the morning. . . these roses, only half awake, in the defencelessness of utter beauty.”

“I have important things to tell you, but who can concentrate with all that racket?" That "racket" turned out to be because of flowers, hundreds of them, arriving by the cartful. Roses, orchids, lilies, daffodils, irises, and a dozen other varieties that she could not name. Heavy porcelain vases were mounted all around the grand ballroom and the royal gardens, displaying the arrangements in all their grandeur. But one arrangement stood out from the rest. From the duchess's window, Cinderella watched the gardeners erect a trellis studded with roses. When the palace staff wheeled out a barrow of flowers, white pearlescent roses intertwined with pink ones as flushed as the height of sunrise, she nearly gasped. Her parents' favorite flowers. White and pink roses, with a touch of myrtle. Charles had been listening.”

“Gulab jamun, am I right?" Puffy Fay asked with his mouth full. "The inspiration for this cupcake?" Vik nodded. "A friend once told me she loved to take her favorite desserts and make them into something else." He glanced at me briefly. Gulab jamun. I'd had it plenty of times in India. Creamy fried dumplings soaked in a sugar syrup, flavored with cardamom and- "Rosewater," said Puffy Fay, "can be a tricky ingredient. But-" he smacked his lips- "you've done an excellent job. And you somehow managed to mimic the flavor of that very sweet dessert without making your cupcake too sweet. Fascinating." "I coated rose petals in sugar and salt," said Vik. "Sugar for laughter, and salt for tears.”

“At first glance, they do indeed look like roses. But on closer inspection, each blossom sits on a tart crust. These roses are her dish! She made Apple Rose Tarts!" Aah! Picking it up makes the scent waft ever closer! What a decadent yet delicately sublime scent! I've yet to take a single bite, but already I feel as if I'm in a dream!”

“Joe had always pretended indifference to flowers. He preferred fruit trees, herbs and vegetables, things to be picked and harvested, stored, dried, pickled, bottled, pulped, made into wine. But there were always flowers in his garden all thee same. Planted as if on an afterthought: dahlias, poppies, lavender, hollyhocks. Roses twined among the tomatoes. Sweet peas among the bean poles. Part of it was camouflage, of course. Part of it a lure for bees. But the truth was that Joe liked flowers, and was reluctant even to pull weeds. Jay would not have seen the rose garden if he had not known where to look. The wall against which the roses had once been trained had been partly knocked down, leaving an irregular section of brick about fifteen feet long. Greenery had shot up it, almost reaching the top, creating a dense thicket in which he hardly recognized the roses themselves. With the shears he clipped a few briars free and revealed a single large red rose almost touching the ground. "Old rose," remarked Joe, peering closer. "Best kind for cookin'. You should try makin' some rose petal jam. Champion." Jay wielded the shears again, pulling the tendrils away from the bush. He could see more rosebuds now, tight and green away from the sun. The scent from the open flower was light and earthy.”