Top Roses And Rain Quotes

Browse top 10 famous quotes and sayings about Roses And Rain by most favorite authors.

Favorite Roses And Rain Quotes

1. "I know there is poor and hideous suffering, and I've seen the hungry and the guns that go to war. I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks for early light dappled through leaves and the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives."
Author: Ann Voskamp
2. "He read me another poem, and another one - and he explained the true history of poetry, which is a kind of secret, a magic known only to wise men. Mr. Premier, I won't be saying anything new if I say that the history of the world is the history of a ten-thousand-year war of brains between the rich and the poor. Each side is eternally trying to hoodwink the other side: and it has been this way since the start of time. The poor win a few battles (the peeing in the potted plants, the kicking of the pet dogs, etc.) but of course the rich have won the war for ten thousand years. That's why, on day, some wise men, out of compassion for the poor, left them signs and symbols in poems, which appear to be about roses and pretty girls and things like that, but when understood correctly spill out secrets that allow the poorest man on earth to conclude the ten-thousand-year-old brain-war on terms favorable to himself."
Author: Aravind Adiga
3. "When I am dead, my dearest,Sing no sad songs for me;Plant thou no roses at my head,Nor shady cypress tree:Be the green grass above meWith showers and dewdrops wet:And if thou wilt, remember,And if thou wilt, forget.I shall not see the shadows,I shall not feel the rain;I shall not hear the nightingaleSing on as if in pain:And dreaming through the twilightThat doth not rise nor set,Haply I may remember,And haply I may forget."
Author: Christina Rossetti
4. "Is there any finer phrase in the English language than Midsummer Day? There are no words to touch it for conjuring. It is the beginning of blooming roses and ripening corn, of days that stretch on, reaching for midnight until the spangled blue velvet of night descends and beginning again before cockcrow, when the dew jewels the grass like diamonds scattered while the earth slumbers. I, of course, expected rain. Not just rain, but torrential, heaving, biblical rain—the sort to set arks afloat. Everything else had gone awry, why not that? But when I awoke on Midsummer Day, the sun greeted me cordially, coaxing the dew from the grass and the early roses as a light breeze wafted the scent of charred chimney over the gardens. I stood at the window and breathed in deeply all the scents of summer, fresh grass and carp ponds and blossoming herb knots until the whole of it mingled in my head and made me dizzy. A bee floated lazily in the window and out again as if beckoning me to follow."
Author: Deanna Raybourn
5. "When serpents bargain for the right to squirmand the sun strikes to gain a living wage -when thorns regard their roses with alarmand rainbows are insured against old agewhen every thrush may sing no new moon inif all screech-owls have not okayed his voice- and any wave signs on the dotted lineor else an ocean is compelled to closewhen the oak begs permission of the birchto make an acorn - valleys accuse theirmountains of having altitude - and marchdenounces april as a saboteurthen we'll believe in that incredibleunanimal mankind (and not until)"
Author: E.E. Cummings
6. "I stopped in front of a florist's window. Behind me, the screeching and throbbing boulevard vanished. Gone, too, were the voices of newspaper vendors selling their daily poisoned flowers. Facing me, behind the glass curtain, a fairyland. Shining, plump carnations, with the pink voluptuousness of women about to reach maturity, poised for the first step of a sprightly dance; shamelessly lascivious gladioli; virginal branches of white lilac; roses lost in pure meditation, undecided between the metaphysical white and the unreal yellow of a sky after the rain."
Author: Emil Dorian
7. "...but love isn't always roses and rainbows and butterflies in your stomach. It's equally cruel and painful and the world's worst villain."
Author: J.A. Redmerski
8. "When I talk to my friends I pretend I am standing on the wings of a flying plane. I cannot be trusted to tell them how I am. Or if I am falling to earth weighing less than a dozen roses. Sometimes I dream they have broken up with their lovers and are carrying food to my house. When I open the mailbox I hear their voices like the long upward-winding curve of a train whistle passing through the tall grasses and ferns after the train has passed. I never get ahead of their shadows. I embrace them in front of moving cars. I keep them away from my miseries because to say I am miserable is to say I am like them."
Author: Jason Shinder
9. "I heard a rapid alternation of notes,a vibrating staccato of an ancient instrument,nearly as old as nature herself, a cricket singingin my garden last night, the first time this year. When turning my garden's soil,I often uncover crickets, curmudgeons that scramble to find solitudeand cover from the light,but I rarely hear theirancient song 'till near summer's end. Although the wind is now lofting the branchesand rustling the leaves,the evening sun still warms my face. And my garden still blooms fullwith pink-papered hollyhocksand blue, green spikes of lavender,and roses, bright pinks and yellows, all glowing from sunshine-swelled canes, and zinnias, rainbow-shingled orbs,and more. And yet, I am already dreading the coming of fall, all dressed in small rags of red, yellow, and orange. I know that my summer garden is nearing its end,as hailed by the cricket's song."
Author: Jeffrey A. White
10. "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 very still. The stream sounded loud. I walked down to the gate and stood leaning on the top bar, enjoying the scent of the roses, and straining to listen for any sound from the lane or the road beyond."
Author: Mary Stewart

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Marriage is not a noun; it's a verb. It isn't something you get. It's something you do. It's the way you love your partner every day."
Author: Barbara De Angelis

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