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R Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with R. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All R Quotes

“Rose: "Why did you lie?" Dimitri: "Because we can't be together." Rose: "Because of the age thing right?" I asked. "Because you're my mentor?" His fingertip gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. Dimitri: "That's part of it." He said. "But also, well, you and I will be both be Lissa's guardians someday, I need to protect her. If a pack of Strigoi come, I need to throw my body between them and her." Rose: "I know that. Of course that's what you have to do." Dimitri: "No. If I let myself love you, I won't throw myself in front of her. I'll throw myself in front of you”

“Rose!" I looked to my right and saw Adrian cutting across the lawn toward me, oblivious to the slush's effects on his designer shoes. "Did you just call me 'Rose'?" I asked. "And not 'little dhampir'? I don't think that's ever happened." "It happens all the time," he countered, catching up to me.”

“Rose: "I was testing dorm security. It sucks." Dimitri: "You must be freezing. Do you want my coat?" Rose: "I'm fine. What are you doing out here? Are you testing security too?" Dimitri: "I am security. This is my watch." Rose: "Well, good work. I'm glad I was able to help test your awesome skills." - Rose Hathaway and Dimitri Belikov (Shadow Kiss)”

“Rose: My mum's here. The Doctor: Oh, that's just what I need! Don't you dare make this place domestic! Mickey Smith: You ruined my life, Doctor. [the Doctor turns and looks at him, irritated] They thought she was dead, I was a murder suspect because of you! The Doctor: [looks at Rose] See what I mean? Domestic! Mickey: I bet you don't even remember my name! The Doctor: Ricky. Mickey: It's Mickey! The Doctor: No, it's Ricky. Mickey: I think I know my own name! The Doctor: You think you know your own name? How stupid are you?”

“ROSEMARY Beauty and Beauty’s son and rosemary— Venus and Love, her son, to speak plainly— born of the sea supposedly, at Christmas each, in company, braids a garland of festivity. Not always rosemary— since the flight to Egypt, blooming differently. With lancelike leaf, green but silver underneath, its flowers—white originally— turned blue. The herb of memory, imitating the blue robe of Mary, is not too legendary to flower both as symbol and as pungency. Springing from stones beside the sea, the height of Christ when thirty-three— it feeds on dew and to the bee “hath a dumb language”; is in reality a kind of Christmas-tree.”

“Rosemary bubbled with delight at the trunks. Her naivete responded whole-heartedly to the expensive simplicity of the Divers, unaware of its complexity and its lack of innocence, unaware that it was all a selection of quality rather than quantity from the run of the world's bazaar; and that the simplicity of behavior also, the nursery-like peace and good will, the emphasis on the simpler virtues, was part of a desperate bargain with the gods and had been attained through struggles she could not have guessed at.”

“Rosemary cornmeal doughnuts with a lemon glaze, and cornbread tartlets with ricotta and heirloom tomatoes." He set the platter on the table, and Charlotte and Zoey leaned forward to stare. The tartlets were small and perfectly round, with scalloped edges like the hems of Sunday dresses. Purple-tinged tomatoes were fanned on top, obviously cut by someone with seriously good knife skills. The doughnuts appeared to still be warm from the oven, the glaze dripping off them onto the platter. The green scent of rosemary and the sharp scent of lemon made Charlotte picture a long, sandy road. There was an old woman cooking in a summer kitchen somewhere down that road. Home.”

“Rosemary felt that this swim would become the typical one of her life, the one that would always pop up in her memory at the mention of swimming.”

“Rosemary. I breathed in. Its fragrance was woodsy and herbal, rich and savory and layered with olive oil and pine. By that age, I'd been aware for years that my sense of scent was highly attuned; everywhere I went, fragrances whispered to me, telling me of the world, revealing to me insights that were hidden from others. But it wasn't until I held that rosemary in my hands that I began to understand my powerful connection to plants and their scents.”

“Roses and they She had shown him many things, She had made him feel joys of many springs, They had been to many places together, They had found love in each other, He had believed in her and her every word, He had erected on the highways of his heart her every memories’ billboard, She had travelled on them for many years, She had never let time’s brevity be the reason for her fears, So they felt every passing day, they experienced life of love, So much, that they even felt loved by the feeling of love, She waited for him in every moment, She felt it was him whenever a leaf fell or she felt some movement, He too felt the same; as she felt, He to with her in his own heart dwelt, They lived a life that was unlamented by all virtues, They were kissed by life’s joys and and beauty’s all possible hues, He was unremitting when it came to loving her, He always wanted to be with her, forever together, Then one day they slept under a rose bush in full bloom, Then I beheld them being woven together on the life’s loom, He now lives within her and she lives within him, She is the rose bush that radiates with a different light under the moonlight dim, He is the roses which only bloom for her, And she is the rose bush that only grows for him forever!”

“Roses and they She had shown him many things, She had made him feel joys of many springs, They had been to many places together, They had found love in each other, He had believed in her and her every word, He had erected on the highways of his heart her every memories’ billboard, She had travelled on them for many years, She had never let time’s brevity be the reason for her fears, So they felt every passing day, they experienced life of love, So much, that they even felt loved by the feeling of love, She waited for him in every moment, She felt it was him whenever a leaf fell or she felt some movement, He too felt the same; the way she felt, He too with her in his own heart dwelt, They lived a life that was unlamented by all virtues, They were kissed by life’s joys and and beauty’s all possible hues, He was unremitting when it came to loving her, He always wanted to be with her, forever together, Then one day they slept under a rose bush in full bloom, Then I beheld them being woven together on the life’s loom, He now lives within her and she lives within him, She is the rose bush that radiates with a different light under the moonlight dim, He is these roses which only bloom for her, And she is the rose bush that only grows for him forever!”

“Roses and violets from summer gardens, sun-drenched Sicilian lemons squeezed of their juice and mingled with juniper from the frozen north. Saffron threads and gold leaf from the Indies waited to be turned into something magical. And contained deep within all of this was a smile that flooded him with warmth, a pair of blue eyes, and the scent of chocolate...”

“Roses are beautiful. Classic. Refined. But then they've got this whole other side of them that sort of counteracts all that. Like, they can grow pretty wild. They're tough and thorny. You have to be careful with them because of how fragile they can be, but you'd be surprised how much they can withstand, too." Rose stepped out of the tunnel, no barrier between her and Hart anymore. She liked hearing him describe a rose. And as his eyes gleamed with a warm playfulness, it was easy to believe that he wasn't just talking about a flower anymore. "Sorry," he said. "Rambling about rambling roses." Rose bit her lip to keep from smiling. Corny--- his own word. But she liked it. She cupped a pale pink bloom in her hands, her thumbs brushing its countless velvety folds, like pushing back the fur on a sheepdog's face. She tipped her nose to its center and breathed in deep. Musky. Earthy. Like a soothing dark tea.”

“Roses are picked every day, they are told that they will be better off sold in the flower shoppe. And so they go from the hands of the picker; to the hands of the delivery man; to the hands of the florist; to the hands of the customer; and then often to the hands of the final recipient of the rose. From field, cut by scissors and passed from hand to hand. The world has forgotten that it is okay for roses to be in fields, the world has forgotten the beauty of the rose uncut. The bouquet is praised and given away but the wild roses are forgotten. People have forgotten what “wild” means; they think it means something entirely different. The wild rose remains untouched, with roots and swayed by the meadow winds. And that is wild. I am wild for having roots and for being untouched and for seeing things that people have forgotten. And I will always remember— that it is okay to be uncut, that it is okay to be untouched by darkness, it is okay to be wild.”

“Roses are red, and they say love's not made to last, But I know I'll never get enough of that sweet, sweet ass. All that jelly in your jeans, all that junk in your trunk, I just gotta have it - one look and I was sunk. If you ever wonder why I had to make you mine, It's 'cause no other lady has a tush so fine. They say you're not a looker, but I don't mind. What I'm looking at is the view from behind. Never been romantic, don't know what love means, But I know I dig the way you're wearing those jeans. Hate to see you leave but love to watch you go. Turn back, then leave again - baby do it slow. I'm coming right after, gonna make a pass, Can't get enough of that sweet, sweet ass.”