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Roses Quotes

Browse 252 quotes about Roses.

Roses Quotes

“თქვენ მშვენიერი ხართ, მაგრამ ცარიელნი, - განაგრძო მან. - არავინ გასწირავს თქვენთვის თავს. ჩვეულებრივი გამვლელი, რა თქმა უნდა, იტყვის, რომ ჩემი ვარდი თქვენისთანაა, მაგრამ იგი ყველა ვარდზე ძვირფასია ჩემთვის, რადგან მას ვრწყავდი ყოველდღე, მას ვახურავდი მინის სარქველს, მას ვაფარებდი თეჯირს, რომ ქარს არ შეეწუხებინა. მისი გულისთვის ვხოცავდი მუხლუხებს (თუმცა ორი თუ სამი მუხლუხი არ მოვკალი და ისინი პეპლებისთვის დავტოვე) და მხოლოდ მას ვუსმენდი, როცა იგი საყვედურებს მეუბნებოდა ან ტრაბახობდა, ზოგჯერ მაშინაც კი ვუსმენდი, როცა დუმდა ხოლმე. იმიტომ, რომ იგი ჩემი ვარდია.”

“A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, With doors that none but the wind ever closes, Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster; It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses. I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary; 'I wonder,' I say, 'who the owner of those is.' 'Oh, no one you know,' she answers me airy, 'But one we must ask if we want any roses.' So we must join hands in the dew coming coldly There in the hush of the wood that reposes, And turn and go up to the open door boldly, And knock to the echoes as beggars for roses. 'Pray, are you within there, Mistress Who-were-you?' 'Tis Mary that speaks and our errand discloses. 'Pray, are you within there? Bestir you, bestir you! 'Tis summer again; there's two come for roses. 'A word with you, that of the singer recalling-- Old Herrick: a saying that every maid knows is A flower unplucked is but left to the falling, And nothing is gained by not gathering roses.' We do not loosen our hands' intertwining (Not caring so very much what she supposes), There when she comes on us mistily shining And grants us by silence the boon of her roses.”

“I began to turn my body, but he held me and laid me back onto the bed, insistently, kissing my breasts but not lingering, kissing a line down my stomach and lower. “You want me to prove to you that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, Roses. Is that true, aye? Because I just can’t take this anymore.” I gasped as he licked into my sensitive flesh, wetting me with his soft strokes, speaking soft words against my skin. “If you insist on doubting me, Roses, if you absolutely insist on breaking down every defense that I have with your tears and your plush, wet, ripe beauty, then that’s what I’ll have to do, lass. Is that what you want from me? Proof?” I could only sigh a soft response, already falling, burning, wanting too much.”

“What a lovely thing a rose is!" He walked past the couch to the open window and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects. "There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.”

“My love, you are driving the entire world mad. The nightingales are committing suicide one by one out of jealousy of your voice. The roses took one glance at your beauty and folded themselves from shame. The trees now only whisper your name and the sky hasn’t stopped crying since you looked up. Have pity on us, my love. We have already broken all the mirrors and glass out of fear that you will forget us and fall in love with yourself once you see what we all cannot stop seeing.”