Love flows like flowers, and grows like water. I’m so thirsty for romance I could drink a dozen roses.

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature’s laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it’s dreams; it learned...

There were crimson roses on the bench; they looked like splashes of blood.

I feel as if I had opened a book and found roses of yesterday sweet and fragrant, between its leaves.

Every new dayOur children’s joy is as fresh as roses,Even the birds chatter at dawn.

What can I say about love that’s never been said by me or anyone else? Well, sometimes love smells like my farts, after I eat a dozen roses.

It was nearing 9 O’clock, and the fist duck was drawing down. Behind the trees, the first star pricked out, low and brilliant. The light breeze of the day had dropped, and the evening was...

But he who dares not grasp the thorn Should never crave the rose.

I arose like a rose, and this is how I knew I was in love. In the garden of life, I’m better off in your neighbor’s yard.

On valentine’s day every girl should deserve a rose rather than one

An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it makes a better soup.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.

Roses,” she thought sardonically, “All trash, m’dear.

The only mistake you have made is asking the wrong question. It isn’t about what you did wrong. It’s what you have not yet done.

Men were created before women. … But that doesn’t prove their superiority – rather, it proves ours, for they were born out of the lifeless earth in order that we could be born out of...

Women Are Not RosesWomen have no beginningonly continualflows.Though rivers flowwomen are notrivers.Women are notrosesthey are not oceansor stars.i would like to tellher this buti think shealready knows.

Beauty and love pass, I know… Oh, there’s sadness, too. I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses-

I relinquished myself to existence pure and simple, thinking absolutely nothing—as if my mind were merely an echo chamber for the music, as if it contained only ether or at most a vaguely pleasant odor...

Women show men beauty in things beyond their ambitions. Women tell men to stop and smell the roses.

Every summer, like the roses, childhood returns.

I once read that love is like a rose: we fixate on the blossom, but it’s the thorny stem that keeps it alive and aloft. I think marriage is like that. Like my father said,...

Love was not the point and pity was a poor man’s pride.

When life is not coming up rosesLook to the weedsand find the beauty hidden within them.

True love is like little roses, sweet, fragrant in small doses.

Why send roses? Wouldn’t it be more romantic to deliver a dozen orgasms? For only $19.95, I’ll deliver them to your woman any day of the year. But be sure to book early for Valentine’s...

For every thorn is just as essential to the longevity of the plant as the blossoms.

I’m an all-the-water-I-can-drink-in-a-flower-vase kind of lover. Roses and batteries sold separately.

The rose has toldIn one simplicityThat never lifeRelinquishes a bloomBut to bestowAn ancient confidence.

Rose spreads its fragranceHis fragrance is his message.

If I say your voice is an amber waterfall in which I yearn to burn each day, if you eat my mouth like a mystical rose with powers of healing and damnation, If I confess...

The point is to turn your grief into love. The roses are helping you find grace.

Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,Röslein auf der Heiden.Und der wilde Knabe brach’sRöslein auf der Heiden;Röslein wehrte sich und stach,half ihm doch kein Weh und Ach,musst’ es eben leiden.Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,Röslein auf der Heiden.

Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses.

Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?

Maybe there’s a whole other universe where a square moon rises in the sky, and the stars laugh in cold voices, and some of the triangles have four sides, and some have five, and some...

A mother’s love is like an everlasting bed of roses, that continues to blossom. A mother’s love bears strength, comfort, healing and warmth. Her beauty is compared to a sunny day that shines upon each...

Black,The death of an old habit in order for anew journey to start. The dark cloudsdisappeared, chased away by the brilliant shine of your smile. So that I had the courage to be me once...

With its leaves so rich and heavy with elation and its crimson face made brighter with visions of divinity the shadow of a certain rose looks just like an angel eating light.

If you can love all who’ve betrayed you… you can taste sweetness in everything.

I can’t have white roses. They symbolize death.

De leur meilleur côté t chons de voir les choses:Vous vous plaignez de voir les rosiers épineux;Moi je me réjouis et rends gr ces aux dieuxQue les épines aient des roses.

A rose is a mix of thorns with a flower, and is therefore half fuck you and half fuck me. If I gave you a dozen, would you fuck me 12 times?

Feeling at peace, however fragilely, made it easy to slip into the visionary end of the dark-sight. The rose shadows said that they loved the sun, but that they also loved the dark, where their...

He’s as tall as a tree, but he fights like a rose bush. What’s with all the scratching? I should cut him down in the name of romance.

Despite the weight of the world on my shoulders, the temptation to stop and smell the supernatural roses tugged on my sleeves a time or two.

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...

Would women find vampires even sexier and more romantic if instead of fangs they had rose thorns? It’s thoughts like these I think of when digging in my garden, looking for my one true love...

Someone heroic and valiant, not merely skilled in speech; someone who is kind and pure in heart. Someone who does not play with white roses that belong to others.

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemos.

Why are roses kept for their blossoms rather than shunned for their thorns?