“Well, another senator rose and said {as they always do} 'Does the gentleman yield?' They always say that - least they call each other 'gentleman' in there. But the tone they put on the word, it would sound more appropriate if they came right out and said 'Would the coyote from Maine yield?' 'cause that's about the way it sounds. Well, then, the other senator says 'I yield' (for if he don't the other guy'll keep on talking anyhow). So the coyote from Maine says 'I yield to...the polecat from Oregon!'” IfsWayWellsDoeSaidPoliticalGuyPoliticsCausesSoundTalkingRoseGentlemanToneAppropriateYieldSenatorsOther GuysMaineOregonCoyotes Author:Will Rogers
“In 1879 the Bengali scholar S.M. Tagore compiled a more extensive list of ruby colors from the Purana sacred texts: ‘like the China rose, like blood, like the seeds of the pomegranate, like red lead, like the red lotus, like saffron, like the resin of certain trees, like the eyes of the Greek partridge or the Indian crane…and like the interior of the half-blown water lily.’ With so many gorgeous descriptive possibilities it is curious that in English the two ancient names for rubies have come to sound incredibly ugly.” TwoEyeCertainNamesSoundWaterHalfTreeBloodPossibilityColorRedSacredRoseAncientUglyChinaSeedsListsCuriousIndianGreekScholarInteriorsGorgeousLiliesRubiesLotusesBengaliTagoreCranesSaffronPomegranatesSacred TextsWater Lily Author:Victoria Finlay
“My virgin sense of sound was steeped In the music of young streams; And roses through the casement peeped, And scented all my dreams.” DreamYoungSoundRoseStreamsVirgins Book:At the Gate of the Convent: And Other Poems Source: At the Gate of the Convent: And Other Poems
“When I try to describe how I feel when you hold me, I get butterflies, I hear lullabies, it's hard to explain -- like the scent of a rose or the sound of the rain. It's too precious and too wonderful to give it a name.” GivingFeelsTryingHardNamesSoundWonderfulRainRoseButterflyScentHold MeLullabyI Get Butterflies Author:Christina Aguilera
“Night after night the nightingale came to beg for divine love, but though the rose trembled at the sound of his voice, her petals remained closed to him...Flower and bird, two species never meant to mate. Yet at length the rose overcame her fear and from that single, forbidden union was born the red rose that Allah never intended the world to know.” KnowsWorldTwoNightSoundVoiceBornDivineFlowerBirdRedUnionsRoseSpeciesLengthMatesForbiddenDivine LovePetalsNightingalesRed Rose Author:Susan Kay
“Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose; There as I passed, with careless steps and slow, The mingling notes came soften'd from below; The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that low'd to meet their young; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school; The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.” MindChildrenMadeSchoolYoungSoundVoiceStepsWatchesLaughingDogSweetWindLowsRoseNotesConfusionEveningHillsLoudSpokesVillageShadePoolPausesSoberCarelessHerdsWhisperingGeeseNoisyVacantNightingalesMingling Author:Oliver Goldsmith
“Sometimes change came all at once, with a sound like a fire taking hold of dry wood and paper, with a roar that rose around you so you couldn't hear yourself think. And then, when the roar died down, even when the fires were damped, everything was different.” ThinkingDifferentSometimesSoundChangeFirePaperDiedRoseWoodsDry Book:Object Lessons: One True Thing ; Black and Blue Source: Object Lessons: One True Thing ; Black and Blue
“And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring, And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing briar, And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring.” SoundBreakFireAliveBedMoonSpringRoseRoundsWoodsRingsClimbingBeltsBudBriarsAmethystCrocusesRose Buds Book:Poems Source: Poems
“But one sound always rose above the clamor of busy life and, no matter how much of a tintinnabulation, was never confused and, fora moment lifted everything into an ordered sphere: that of the bells.” MatterMomentsSoundHistoryRoseBusyConfusedSpheresBellsBusy LifeClamor Author:Johan Huizinga
“Weird, isn't it Somehow in the dead of winter when its 40 below, so cold your words just freeze in the air, you think you'll never hear a robin's song again or see a blossom on a cherry tree, when one day you wake up and bingo, light coming through the mini blinds is softened with a tick of rose and the cold morning air has lost its bite. It's spring once again, the streets are paved with mud and the hills are alive with the sound of mosquitos.” ThinkingLightSongLostSoundMorningAliveAirTreeStreetsColdOne DaySpringWake UpRoseWinterHillsBitesMudFreezeCherriesRobinsTickCherry TreesBingoMorning AirCold Morning Author:Andrew Schneider