Break not the rose; its fragrance and beauty are surely sufficient, resting contented with these, never a thorn shall you feel. — John Hay Copy Share Image
My understanding of romance novels was that it was on the beach with a glass of rose. — Jonathan Bailey Copy Share Image
Pansy rolled over and went to sleep, but Petunia stayed awake long after Olga left, and long after Oliver crawled out from… — Jessica Day George Copy Share Image
I know one thing you don't. I know the difference between Right and Wrong. They didn't teach you that at school.' Rose… — Graham Greene Copy Share Image
And the marvellous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as… — Oscar Wilde Copy Share Image
Maybe there's a whole other universe where a square moon rises in the sky, and the stars laugh in cold voices, and… — Stephen King Copy Share Image
La Vie En Rose. It is the French way of saying, 'I am looking at the world through rose-coloured glasses.' — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Once," Balinda begins softly, "when I was in the emergency room with my mother they brought in a murderer who had been… — Kris Radish Copy Share Image
Wisdom can see the red, the rose, the stained and sculptured curve of grey, the charcoal scars of fire, and see around… — Judith Wright Copy Share Image
In mythos and fairy tales, deities and other great spirits test the hearts of humans by showing up in various forms that… — Clarissa Pinkola Estes Copy Share Image
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress… — Christina Rossetti Copy Share Image
The spring rains woke the dormant tillers, and bright green shoots sprang from the moist earth and rose like sleepers stretching after… — Rick Yancey Copy Share Image
Okay, well, let's do a little reenactment. I'm the gay-looking DiCaprio and you're Rose. You have to keep your eyes open and… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by my wrist and pushed me back into my chair. 'It is both, or… — Arthur Conan Doyle Copy Share Image
“Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo. — Don Marquis Copy Share Image
I see, when I bend close, how each leaflet of a climbing rose is bordered with frost, the autumn counterpart of the… — Edwin Way Teale Copy Share Image
There was just one moon. That familiar, yellow, solitary moon. The same moon that silently floated over fields of pampas grass, the… — Haruki Murakami Copy Share Image
All nature works, and then rests; works and rests. I caught its rhythm and worked and rested with it. When I felt… — Elizabeth Towne Copy Share Image
He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
Nobody trips over mountains. It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble. Pass all the pebbles in your path and… — Ralph Waldo Emerson Copy Share Image
