Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Rosaline. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Rosaline Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including George Herbert,Markus Zusak,Mike Gilbert,Brett Wright,Rohit Sharma for you to enjoy and share.
Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is even in the grave, And thou must die.
... Pfiffikus, whose vulgarity made Rosa Hubermann look like a wordsmith and a saint.
Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.
Raging Heart, Sheila Weller
Holy crap. It's Juliet!
She smelled like a rose, and she tasted like a rose petal.
nocturnal purple.
Maurice," she croaked one last time, as loudly as she could. His eyes widened. "Rosalind?" he murmured. Then his face went red in a mask of rage and fury. "ROSALIND!" He
She did not need anyone else's love when she had roses.
Comedy, such a lovely lady, she'll pick you up, you your feeling blue.
Black rose, black rose
Who's gonna be your only one?
Who's gonna keep you safe and warm?
Run, run my baby black rose
I'm gonna find you home.
If she didn't take her own life, that meant Rosa would be with her daughter in the afterlife.
Two or more year ago she was out workin' in her rose garden one mornin' - did you know, boy, she's got over sixty different kinds out there? - and she said to me, said, 'Mr. Blakeslee, I wouldn't even mind dyin' if'n I could be buried in a bed of roses.
Juliette," I whisper. "My name is Juliette.
Lips, red, ruby, like the blood, like the words.
Paloma you cry out, you beg for connection
The dreams you seek are straight ahead in every direction
ALBA from "Langue d'Oc" When the nightingale to his mate Sings day-long and night late My love and I keep state In bower, In flower, 'Till the watchman on the tower Cry: "Up! Thou rascal, Rise, I see the white Light And the night Flies.
That queen of secrecy, the violet.
Marjoram ... Blushes.
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.
Dying, dying, Lolita Haze,
Of hate and remorse I'm dying.
And again my hairy fist I raise,
And again I hear you crying.
Daisies. They outlast roses, and they're tough little flowers.
Red roses for young lovers. French beans for longstanding relationships
I, love, I am the pure acetylene virgin attended by roses.
I didn't like roses. They reminded me of the women in my life: beautiful and bright, but if you touched them they made you bleed.
HONORINE BEATRIX
Violet! sweet violet! Thine eyes are full of tears; Are they wet Even yet With the thought of other years?
She blushes like a rose in bloom, though I ripped her up from the roots long ago.
My heart beats her name
The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well; why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.
Someday you will name me,
then gently place those burning
holy roses in my hair.
[Songs of Longing]
Amy Winehouse - her surname's beginning to sound like a description of her liver.
ROSALIND: I would we could do so, for her benefits are mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
Alive to the loving past She conjures her own. Nothing is wholly lost - Sun on the stone. And lilacs in their splendor Like lost friends Come back through grief to tell her Love never ends.
She said, once, shortly before she died, that roses smelled like happiness. Whenever she smelled a rose, she thought of the day we met.
Is it Rilla-my-Rilla?
Against the grape-flushed sky perfect amethyst night.
Deep blue. She was beautiful, not merely pretty, but there was in her eyes the haughty disdain of a queen reprimanding a clumsy subject.
Running to stand still
-Lena
Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.
Rose quartz is said to be the stone of unconditional love. This crystal opens the heart chakra and is believed to encourage self-love and forgiveness, and to help you let go of anger, resentment, and jealousy.
Tireless passion, fierce jealousy, longing to possess and crush-these alone were left of all his love for Rosalind; these remained to him as payment for the loss of his youth-bitter calomel under the thin sugar of love's exaltation.
Melancholy, I repeated. I liked the way it sounded, like there was music hidden somewhere inside it. Kate Di Camillo, Because of Winn Dixie
I let his rose wither in a vase on my desk, a vase painfully empty of flowers since the long-ago time when, on my birthday, Mario would give me a cattleya, in imitation of Swann. In the evening the flower was already black and bent on its stem. I threw it in the trash.
Fact, you could say that Rosa Hubermann had a face decorated with constant fury. That was how the creases were made in the cardboard texture of her complexion.
Esther runs Unalaq's ruby thumbnail up the stem of a purple tulip. You miss purple, after a few years ...
Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
Was my first landscape, red brown as the clay of her georgia.
Mourning Ruby is not a flat landscape: it is more like a box with pictures painted on every face. And each face is also a door which opens, I hope, to take the reader deep into the book.
Rosie Germaine Mole.
Let those who love me follow me'Cora Pearl, on being the very first person to dye her hair red in 1864
Roses by the head, jasmine at the feet so appear the longings that have passed without being satisfied, not one of them granted a night of sensual pleasure, or one of its radiant mornings.
Red Queen. The lightning girl. She lives. Rise, Red as dawn. Rise. Rise. Rise.
Night Vale, my sweet and only Night Vale, may you find love. May you find it wherever it's been hidden. May you find who has been hiding it and extract revenge upon them.
Love and a red rose can't be hid.
Amory: I love you.
Rosalind: I love you- now.
Roses are the fast food of flowers.
There where her night begins
there be her goldest rosest rose
that in her deep wisdom knows
boygrace will knight her Rose
Juliette. His voice hugs the letters in my name so softly I die 5 times in that second.
Saepe creat molles aspera spina rosas" - "Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses
Rose Gardner, what in heaven's name happened
CONFEDERATE GIRL'S DIARY By
You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known, Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own - What are you when the rose is blown?
Sweet flowers alone can say what passion fears revealing.
Flowerlike, I loved nothing.
from "Mayday on Holderness
Aunt Hilda,' Violet
Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.
Your petal from the salty rose
Once up on a time she was a heroine who used to cry with glycerine. Now she can cry without glycerine. Nothing is permanent in this world,
She is surrounded by stalks of dahlias, orange and yellow and pale red, with leaves so big you could write your life story on each one. She looks like a flower in the garden, just like her mother said.
pickled in formaldehyde and painted like a whore, / Shrimp-pink incorruptible, not lost or gone before.
Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.
Rose took my nose, I suppose
Wild rose-bush, covered, in this month of June, with its delicate gems, which might be imagined to offer their fragrance and fragile beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and to the condemned criminal as he came forth to his doom, in token that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be kind to him.
Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes; Ah, would that I did too!
Red lips like a living, laughing rose.
The white flower of a blameless life.
My lady's presence makes the roses red, because to see her lips they blush for shame.
chasing silly rose leaves
Now is the time to give me roses, not to keep them for my grave to come. Give them to me while my heart beats, give them today while my heart yearns for jubilee. Now is the time.
A cool red rose and a pink cut pink, a collapse and a sold hole, a little less hot. - Red roses.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks ...
Pleasure and pain.
That was my Melody.
She was my poison
so toxic, when sampled,
yet,
so sweet ...
Lauricia or Aurelia?
She's half-insane, looking for an out; she's hard, she's scared, she's been fooled, taken, abused, used, over-used ...
but, under all that, to me she's the flower, I see her as she was before she was ruined by the lies: theirs and hers.
She smells like angels ought to smell, the perfect woman ... the Goddess. Goldie. She says her name is Goldie.
O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,
Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.
Violet is the most soothing, tranquilizing and cooling color vibration. It encourages the healing of unbalanced mental conditions in people who are overly nervous or high-strung. Foods of the violet vibration are: purple broccoli, beetroot and purple grapes.
The paths and down the avenue, she was stirring her slow blood and making herself stronger
This isolation, this deep pit in the bottom of my stomach, didn't have to hurt so much. - Aquamarine Rosabelle bonus included in Dreams, Smiles, and Bloody Tears
It's such a funny thing when you see your daughter transitioning from your baby, your little girl, to suddenly being a young woman. If you're not really looking for it, you can miss it, and Lily-Rose is on that road already, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
Codeine . . . bourbon.
She who loves roses must be patient and not cry out when she is pierced by thorns.
Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you?
She is nearing forty and not so easily forgiven as when her skin bloomed like roses.
Quick as a hummingbird ... she darts so eagerly, swiftly, sweetly dipping into the flowers of my heart.
You've made her so beautiful; when she's come to take your life away.
A black cat among roses,
phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon,
the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still.
It is dazed with moonlight,
contented with perfume ...
Piragua - cold syrup trickled over crushed ice - her favorite treat from her childhood in Viejo San Juan.