Fall Like A Rose Petal Quotes

Don't imagine you are in a worse place than you actually are. Things could have been far worse. So, seize the day, count your blessings and move on. You can survive a crisis only by dealing it with one day at a time. Don't add up all your problems in your mind and think you are finished. Compartmentalize your problems; put them in different buckets and project-manage them separately. This is how you live through uncertain times – making decisions when there are few or no options to choose from. You never see it this way when you are going through a crisis. But, unfailingly, every crisis leaves you stronger, wiser – and happy! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

Things never quite get so bad as we imagine them to be. Fear of the unknown makes us delay decisions. But if we turn around and face our fears they make way for acceptance and decision-making. Courage is not the absence of fear. It is what fear delivers unto us when we face our fears. Life is never easy at this point, but it becomes a lot simpler to navigate through the maze of our problems; the pain is intense, but we don't suffer. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

Facing your fears is key to flowing with Life…Flowing is an important word here: are you flowing with Life or are you fighting it? When you flow with Life, through accepting and living with what is, then miraculously, magically, Life reveals a big secret to you – that fearlessness is not the absence of fear…in fact, it is what fear delivers to you when you turn around and face a situation that is tormenting you, scaring you. What you run away from, will chase you, haunt you…but when you face your fears, the game changes dramatically! You are in control now, not your fears! And when you are in control, while you may not be able to solve every problem immediately, you can deal with the situation calmly, efficiently. This is how you learn to be happy, no matter what you are going through! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

You wake up from your stupor, from taking your Life for granted, only when you understand its transient nature. When you realize that it is a limited-period offer, that it is literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity…that's when you really start living! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

How do you last a torrid time in Life?
1.Accept the reality that you are in the throes of a crisis. Stop wishing that it didn't exist. Acceptance always delivers inner peace.
2.Know that the storm will always be strong. By even thinking of its ferocity, you are only going to feel debilitated. At the epicenter of a storm, it is always calm. Find that center, your center. That's where you will find strength.
3.Your center is where you lose sense of time, place and thought. Art – anything inherent that makes you come alive – often leads you there.
4.Trust the process of Life. Do what you can do without losing your inner peace – daily, diligently.
5.No matter how intense it is, no storm lasts forever. All storms pass. So, be patient, surrender completely, let go…and offer yourself to be led by Life… ~ AVIS Viswanathan

Anger is both a destructor and a catalyst for progress. When
directed at someone, it consumes you; but when directed at an issue, it is constructive energy. It then transforms as fuel that drives change – at a personal level and in your circle of influence. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

They say the most powerful prayer is simply saying "Thank You". And the best way to say "Thank You" is to serve others, to help make our broken world a better place! Inspire everyone at home to pitch in. Remember, the family that serves together is happy – and stays together!! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

Life is not only about going after name, money, success, fame and fortune and getting all of them. It is also about how you live with humility, dignity, and discipline when all of what you attained and acquired are taken away from you. Resilience and equanimity cannot be developed and deployed in simulated environments. They are always discovered within you, when you stand in the middle of the battle of Life, in the chaos, in the eye of the storm. It is by facing Life and learning to be happy, to be useful, despite your circumstances, that you become stronger. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

When facing a Life-changing crisis, don't expect your situation to turn around instantaneously. It won't. So, prepare for the long haul. Nourish yourself. Meditate. Pray. Eat your meals on time and please eat healthy stuff. Exercise. Go for long walks. Goof off once in a while. Your being morose, or your worrying stiff, is not going to solve your problems. The situation will resolve only when the time arrives. Until that happens, you have to last, you have to survive. So, take care of yourself. Every moment. Every day. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

Understand a simple truth about Life: you have to go through what you have to go through! No amount of praying or wishing can change what you have to, and will, experience in Life. So, stop resisting anything that you dislike and are faced with. The role of a crisis is to make you stronger, wiser and, interestingly, happy. Look back at all that you have been through and you will find that you are better from your experiences. So, why be bitter about whatever's happening to you now? Embrace your current reality, accept it as your new normal, and keep doing what you can possibly do each given day. Over time, you will find yourself soaked in equanimity, no matter how hard the going is! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

The essence of intelligent living is to do what you can and must do while thriving with the unknown, with uncertainty. So, don't wish the darkness away, don't wait for the clouds to clear, embrace your current reality and do whatever you can best do in the circumstances. You will be amazed with how happy you can really be with what is. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

The COVID-19 pandemic is Life's way of slowing us all down. So, let us take a reflective pause and focus on taking care of ourselves and each other! As it is with most inscrutable situations in Life, there is no other way to deal with this crisis, going with the flow is THE way...! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

COVID-19's forcing the whole world to transition - from 'becoming to being'!
Isn't it amazing? Don't you see what's happening? The whole world has surrendered; it has been forced, in fact, to capitulate – to jump off the becoming treadmill, to being home, just being! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

If it is meant for you, it will come to you. It will find you and reach you. So, don't despair when, despite your best intention and effort, something does not happen the way you envisioned it and planned it. Take it easy. Of course, you have every right to have an intention, put forth a plan and execute it, but you have no right to insist that just because you did all that you must get what you want. The outcomes are never in your hand. The idea that you deserve something is what you have grown within you. So, drop that idea. Just do your bit, and do it well, in any situation. And leave the results, the outcomes, to Life. If you must get it, you will. When you do, be grateful for Life's compassion. When you don't, be accepting of Life's verdict. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

True enlightenment arrives the moment you understand the difference between your wants and your needs. When you awaken to this understanding, you will realize that Life has always been providing for you, caring for you, giving you all that you need. This is how you stop wanting anything, anymore and start living with what you have, with what is. This is how you learn to be happy despite your circumstances. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

You cannot be who you are without having gone through what you went through. ~ AVIS Viswanathan

It is only one Life that you have; just this one lifetime! So, please don't postpone Happiness, don't postpone living. Of course, you can't avoid the lows, the crises, the tragedies. But you can learn to be happy despite the circumstances. You do that by accepting whatever comes your way and by letting go of debilitating emotions. Remember: only when you let go of something can you receive another…clinging on never helps…so, to receive grace and abundance…let go, let go, let go…of all that makes you unhappy and…simply flow with Life! ~ AVIS Viswanathan

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 rose petal and inspires hope. ~ Ellen J. Barrier

Jace shook his blond head in exasperation.
You had to make a crazy jail friend, didn't you? You couldn't just count ceiling tiles or tame a pet mouse like normal prisoners do? ~ Cassandra Clare

You are like a rose
Soft, glowing and evolving
It's time for you
To let go of the deadly thorns

Never trust
The guy who claims
He misses you but never puts
In effort to actually
Set plans with you

Fall in love
With someone
Who helps you to fly high
And not with someone
Who cannot lift you up
When you crash down

You are like a rose
Soft, glowing and evolving
It's time for you
To let go of the deadly thorns ~ Jyoti Patel

The sobs and tears of joy he had not foreseen rose with such force within him that his whole body shook and for a long time prevented him from speaking. Falling on his knees by her bed. He held his wife's hand to his lips and kissed it, and her hand responded to his kisses with weak movement of finger. Meanwhile, at the foot of the bed, in the midwife's expert hands, like the flame of a lamp, flickered the life of a human being who had never existed before ... ~ Leo Tolstoy

Learn from your past and shut the door behind to live in present.Our past is just like a dry rose which was once a rose with all colors of life, with sweet fragrance, with soft petal, with thorns but now it is left with only thorns which could still hurt. ~ Ideaswar

We're born to die, but don't know why or what it's all about
And, the more we try to learn, the less we know.
Life's a very funny proposition, you can bet,
And no one's ever solved the problem properly, as yet;
Young for a day, then old and gray,
Like the rose that buds and blooms, and fades and falls away.
Losing health, to gain our wealth, as through this dream we tour;
Ev'rything's a guess and nothing's absolutely sure.
Battles exciting, and fates we're fighting, until the curtain fall;
Life's a very funny proposition, after all. ~ George M. Cohan

Seeing that I would never manage to fall asleep, I arose, lit a candle, and after dressing went outside.

Beneath the dull glow of the winter moon the snow glowed like pale blue china. The sidewalks sparkled weakly beneath the rays of the flickering street lamps; the benumbed streets slumbered forlornly. I walked, passing one corner after the other, and suddenly found myself on the edge of town. Further, beyond the square, an endless expanse began to glisten with a somber silverness.

I stopped just before the gates. My intent gaze could distinguish nothing in the distant white expanse. Before me rose the imposing bank of the Volga like a gigantic snowdrift. So barren and uninviting was this deserted view resembling eternity that my heart contracted.

I turned to the right and approached quite close to the monastery enclosure. From behind the bronze gates, glimmered a dense net of crosses and gravestones. The ancient eyes of the church gazed forbiddingly down on me, and with an eerie feeling I thought of the monks sleeping at this moment in tomb-like cells together with corpses. Were any of them thinking of the hour of death on this night?

("Lamia") ~ Boris Sadovskoy

Lougarry was waiting over the brow of the hill, lying so still in the grass that a butterfly had perched within an inch of her nose. The stems bent and shimmered as she rose to her feet, and the butterfly floated away like a wind-borne petal. Fern wondered if , like Ragginbone, the she-wolf possessed the faculty of making herself at one with her surroundings, not invisible but transmuted, so close to nature that she could blend with it at will and be absorbed into its many forms, becoming grass blade and wildflower, still earth and moving air, resuming her true self at the prompting of a thought. It came to Fern that we are all part of one vast pattern of Being, the real world and the shadow-world, sunlight and werelight, Man and spirit, and to understand and accept that was the first step toward the abnegation of ego, the affirmation of the soul. To comprehend the wind, not as a movement of molecules but as the pulse of the air, the pulse of her pulse, was to become the wind, to blow with it through the dancing grasses to the edge of the sky... ~ Jan Siegel

Rose leaned against the bathroom door. Here it was - her real life, the truth of who she was, barreling down on her like a bus with bad brakes. Here was the truth - she wasn't the kind of person Jim could fall in love with. She wasn't what she'd made herself out to be - a cheerful, uncomplicated girl, a normal girl with a happy, orderly life, a girl who wore pretty shoes and had nothing more pressing on her mind that whether ER was a rerun this week. The truth was in the exercise tape she didn't have time to unwrap, let alone exercise to; the truth was her hairy legs and ugly underwear. Most of all, the truth was her sister, her gorgeous, messed-up, fantastically unhappy and astoundingly irresponsible sister. ~ Jennifer Weiner

Consider another abstinence product: a gold rose pin handed out in schools or at Christian youth events. The pin is attached to a small card that reads, "You are like a beautiful rose. Each time you engage is pre-marital sex a previous petal is stripped away. Don't leave your future husband holding a bare stem. Abstain."Do we really want to teach our daughters that without their virginity they're nothing but a "bare stem"? ~ Jessica Valenti

The pine trees were rows of knife-blades whispering: "Fall upon us!" and in the gathering darkness the torrent roared and howled, beating against its rocking prison walls with the frenzy of an everlasting despair.
"Padre!" Arthur rose, shuddering, and drew back from the precipice. "It is like hell."
"No, my son," Montanelli answered softly, "it is only like a human soul. ~ Ethel Lilian Voynich

Like an ice in a spring river.
I melt and stay.
Sun will vaporise us.
It will take us up into clouds.
And then we both will fall.
Drop by drop.
We'll fall out of the sky.
We'll raise from dew to fog.
Every sunny warm morning.
We'll let the wind pull us with him.
Cooling our selves in forest shadows.
There in silence we'll cool off
One from another.
But in stormy days and nights.
We'll billow and crash.
One to another.
Like crazy and wild.
We'll churn into white foam.
Ashore in sands we'll wait
For the yellow october leaves
Into them we'll fall asleep.
We'll fall into and freeze.

We'll freeze and melt again
And flow and raise and fall again.
Over and over again

Even if we were in separete glasses of water.
We would moove together and whisper.
Even if in the oceans mixed.
We would moove together and sing.

I'm comming to You.
You are blazing.
I'm giving You a rose
It embalms sweet.

...

If I'll ever meet You.
I' ll take our time...
To dance dance dance dance with You... ~ Martins Paparde

Alex:
OK, that sounds like a challenge! Well firstly, I would have brought you to a hotel along the coast so that your suite would have the best sea view in the hotel. You could fall asleep listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, I would sprinkle the bed with red rose petals and have candles lit all around the room, I would have your favorite CD playing quietly in the background.
But I wouldn't propose to you there. I would bring you to where there was a huge crowd of people so they could all gasp when I got down on one knee and proposed. Or something like that. Note I have italicized all important buzz words.
Rosie:
Oh.
Alex:
Oh? That's all you can say? One word for the most important night of our lives? ~ Cecelia Ahern

The dove will rise above destruction
with a white rose in her beak.
over storm
over tempest.
over time and the ages.
And the petals will fall to the ground like snow. ~ Catherine Fisher

It had not seemed to matter that Rose was only eight years old.
"More than eight," said Rose. "Nearly nine."
"Darling Rose, even almost nearly nine-year-old's don't fall in love," said forgetful Caddy.
Caddy tried very hard to comfort Rose when Tom had left. It was not an easy job. It was like trying to comfort a small, unhappy tiger.
"Who said anything about falling in love?" growled Rose crossly. "Falling! Falling is by accident! I didn't fall in anything!"
"Oh. Right. Sorry, Posy Rose."
"And I am definitely not in love! ~ Hilary McKay

She smelled like a rose, and she tasted like a rose petal. ~ Rohit Sharma

Rome fell silently to ruins. A New city rose in its place, and it was too erased by emptiness. Like phantom Giants, cities, kingdoms, and countries swiftly fell and disappeared into emptiness-- swallowed up in the black maw of the Infinite ~ Leonid Andreyev

He'd never seen a rain quite like this so gentle that it seemed barely to fall yet slowly laid its shine on the bay leaves and hydrangea flowers ... ~ Rose Tremain

On present-day Earth we have the most Christ-like nation in human history, a civilization built on loving kindness and demilitarization. They are being wiped off the face of their homeland. Well, at least the Chinese government isn't blaming Christ or Buddha for their actions against Tibet! But many savage pillagers throughout the past two thousand years have, and the Romans of a thousand years ago fall into that category. Within five hundred years they erased nearly all the nature-based, matriarchal tribes in what we now know as Europe. The invaders falsified history in order to justify their greed. Harmless facts and beautiful rituals were twisted to appear Satanic. Love of the environment and its animals and plants, love of healing modalities that modern day health professionals are now searching frantically to recover, were spin-doctored into demented superstition and turned outlaw. ~ Doug "Ten" Rose

My favorite of all was still the place on Vermont, the French cafe, La Lyonnaise, that had given me the best onion soup on that night with George and my father. The two owners hailed from France, from Lyon, before the city had boomed into a culinary sibling of Paris. Inside, it had only a few tables, and the waiters served everything out of order, and it had a B rating in the window, and they usually sat me right by the swinging kitchen door, but I didn't care about any of it.
There, I ordered chicken Dijon, or beef Bourguignon, or a simple green salad, or a pate sandwich, and when it came to the table, I melted into whatever arrived. I lavished in a forkful of spinach gratin on the side, at how delighted the chef had clearly been over the balance of spinach and cheese, like she was conducting a meeting of spinach and cheese, like a matchmaker who knew they would shortly fall in love. Sure, there were small distractions and preoccupations in it all, but I could find the food in there, the food was the center, and the person making the food was so connected with the food that I could really, for once, enjoy it. ~ Aimee Bender

I am an atom;
you are like the countenance of the Sun for me.
I am a patient of Love
you are like medicine for me.
Without wings, without feathers,
I fly about looking for you.
I have become a Rose petal
and you are like the Wind for me.
Take me for a ride. ~ Rumi

You returned," the prince whispered.
"Does the offer still stand, Pr - Merrick? Do you still want me?" His voice quivered as he waited, hoped.
"So much, I do not feel comfortable in my own skin. It is as if you lit a fire within me that I cannot control…and I don't want to, Cassius."
Cassius yearned to fall to his knees in gratitude. He stepped farther inside as Merrick stood. Cassius closed the door, clicking the lock into place behind him. When the prince reached him, his arm rose and he fingered Cas's hair, which was loose around his face. He never allowed himself to wear his hair down outside his chamber, and he couldn't believe he had forgotten. "Forgive me… I…"
"There is nothing to forgive. You are…breathtaking, Cassius."
"Cas. If I am to call you Merrick when we are alone, you can call me Cas if you'd like ~ Riley Hart

She had been waiting for someone to notice her, like, really notice her. She felt that that was the key, that she would go from the duck to the swan the minute someone recognized her potential. And they would look into her like they were trying to pierce her eyes with theirs, like they were trying to make her heart stop, and the whole world would become background noise and she would take her first breath after all of these years of nothing but existing. It would be like a coronation, or a star exploding, and then she would be born. She would be alive, and she would be loved. ~ Rose Fall

David Greene was kind, and he had a sense of humor. He made your mother laugh."

That was all Gran could muster up? "Did you not like him?"

"He wasn't a big believer in Tarot. Humor aside, he was a very practical man. From New England," she added, as if that explained everything. "I'd been wearing Karen down about the Arcana - until she met him. Before I knew it, your mother was pregnant. Even then, I sensed you were the Empress."

"He didn't want us to live up north?"

"David planned to move there." Her gaze went distant. "To move you - the great Empress - away from her Haven." That must have gone over well. "In the end, I convinced them not to go."
......
I opened up the family albums. As I scrolled through them, her eyes appeared dazed, as if she wasn't seeing the images. Yet then she stared at a large picture of my father.

I said, "I wish I could remember him."

"David used to carry you around the farm on his shoulders," she said. "He read to you every night and took you to the river to skip stones. He drove you around to pet every baby animal born in a ten-mile radius. Lambs, kittens, puppies." She drew a labored breath. "He brought you to the crops and the gardens. Even then, you would pet the bark of an oak and kiss a rose bloom. If the cane was sighing that day, you'd fall asleep in his arms."

I imagined it all: the sugarcane, the farm, the majestic oaks, the lazy river that always had ~ Kresley Cole

And now as if the cleaning and the scrubbing and the scything and the mowing had drowned it there rose that half-heard melody, that intermittent music which the ear half catches but lets fall; a bark, a bleat; irregular, intermittent, yet somehow related; the hum of an insect, the tremor of cut grass, dissevered yet somehow belonging; the jar of a dor beetle, the squeak of a wheel, loud, low, but mysteriously related; which the ear strains to bring together and is always on the verge of harmonising but they are never quite heard, never fully harmonised, and at last, in the evening, one after another the sounds die out, and the harmony falters, and silence falls. With the sunset sharpness was lost, and like mist rising, quiet rose, quiet spread, the wind settled; loosely the world shook itself down to sleep, darkly here without a light to it, save what came green suffused through leaves, or pale on the white flowers by the window.
[Lily Briscoe had her bag carried up to the house late one evening in September. Mr. Carmichael came by the same train.] ~ Virginia Woolf

His gaze fixed on her chest as he rose, and she realized, with mortification, that her dress was askew. She turned her back, but his arms came around her.
"Let me." His hands steady again, he ran his palms up her bodice to smooth her gown back into place. He took his time, his cheek against her temple, and Eliza tried not to shake like a leaf when his fingers brushed her nipple one last time before his hands drifted to rest on her hips.
He put his mouth next to her ear. "Should I apologize for what happened?"
The tiniest shake of her head.
His lips touched the sensitive skin behind her ear. "May I call on you- just you, not your father?"
Her heart was about to stop. She would faint and slide through his arms to land in a senseless heap on the ground. "Yes," she whispered.
"Thank you." Gently, he turned her around. Eliza gazed up at him, wondering if he could tell from looking at her that she was about to fall headlong in love with him. A small smile touched his lips, bemused but reassuring. ~ Caroline Linden

I was only beginning to enter into the infinite subtlety of Gregorian chant. It was - and remains - the only public prayer I have ever been able to engage in without feeling like a phony and a jackass. But then, one day in 1965 or so, it was simply abolished. With a stroke of his pen, Pope John XXIII - who had such good ideas about other things - declared that liturgy would henceforth be in the vernacular language of the people. That was, effectively, the end of Latin chant.

Then all those monks and nuns who had devoted hours and hours a day began to sicken and fall into depressions, but nobody noticed for a long time. Maybe, as I can well believe, the music toned up their systems in some mysterious way. Or perhaps chant really was a language that God understood. Faced with numerous liturgical scholas shrieking away in the new vernacular hymns, Divinity may have covered its ears and withdrawn, leaving the monks to pine. We parish musicians, illiterate in anything written after the 13th century, stumbled around trying to score liturgies for guitar and bongo drums, trying to make sense of texts like "Eat his body! Drink his blood!"

It wasn't because the music got so bad that I quit going to Mass, but it certainly was the beginning of my doubts about papal infallibility. ~ Mary Rose O'Reilley

The shadows of leaves fall upon their arms, as they spread the branches apart, but their shoulders are in the sun. The skin of their arms is like a blue mist, but their shoulders are white and glowing, as if the light fell not from above, but rose from under their skin. We watch the leaf which has fallen upon their shoulder and it lies at the curve of their neck, and a drop of dew glistens upon it like a jewel. ~ Ayn Rand

They had a year of joy, twelve months of the strange heaven which the salmon know on beds of river shingle, under the gin-clear water. For twenty-four years they were guilty, but this first year was the only one which seemed like happiness. Looking back on it, when they were old, they did not remember that in this year it had ever rained or frozen. The four seasons were coloured like the edge of a rose petal for them. ~ T.H. White

I have walked
into the wild
to witness

how falls a petal

from a yellow rose

silent and sudden
like a moment

defining time. ~ Colin Andersen

I think I ran so hard and so fast, in a lot of ways, from my life and I kind of took a fall. It was like - what do they call it? - post-traumatic stress syndrome. ~ Rose McGowan

Dear Neil Armstrong,

I write this to you as she sleeps down the hall. I need answers I think only you might have. When you were a boy, and space was simple science fiction, when flying was merely a daydream between periods of History and Physics, when gifts of moon dust to the one you loved could only be wrapped in your imagination.. Before the world knew your name; before it was a destination in the sky.. What was the moon like from your back yard?

Your arm, strong warm and wrapped under her hair both of you gazing up from your back porch summers before your distant journey. But upon landing on the moon, as the earth rose over the sea of tranquility, did you look for her? What was it like to see our planet, and know that everything, all you could be, all you could ever love and long for.. was just floating before you. Did you write her name in the dirt when the cameras weren't looking? Surrounding both your initials with a heart for alien life to study millions of years from now? What was it like to love something so distant? What words did you use to bring the moon back to her? And what did you promise in the moons ear, about that girl back home? Can you, teach me, how to fall from the sky?

I ask you this, not because I doubt your feat, I just want to know what it's like to go somewhere no man had ever been, just to find that she wasn't there. To realize your moon walk could never compare to the steps that led to her. I now know that the fli ~ Mike McGee

Our eyes reflect light. Better that the lips are more like a rose petal. ~ Olivier Theyskens

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. ~ John Keats

Friendship is like a rose ... opening one petal at a time, only as it unfolds ... day by day it reveals its true beauty. ~ Joan Walsh Anglund

[A] truly humble spirit humbles itself as much amid honors as amid insults, acting like the honeybee which makes its honey equally as well from the dew that falls on the wormwood as from that which falls on the rose. ~ Vincent De Paul

Rozealle

she is a storm; she is a river
untamed; untouched
she will engulf you; she will shatter you
hold her softly; caress her gently
she is fragile like a rose petal
she is tender like the touch me not leaf
she is the warm glow of the morning sun
she is the magic of a full moon night! ~ Avijeet Das

We found ourselves on a smooth, spacious but narrow track of ice or glass. We floated along it, as if on marvellous skates, and we were dancing too, for like a wave the track rose and fell beneath us. It was delightful. I had never seen anything like it and I shouted for joy, 'How glorious!' And overhead the stars were shimmering, in a sky that was strangely all pale blue and yet dark, and the moon with its unearthly light was shining down on us skaters. 'This is freedom,' said the instructress, 'it's something very wintry, and cannot be borne for long. One must always keep moving, as we are doing here, one must dance in freedom. It is cold and beautiful. Never fall in love with it. That would only make you sad afterwards, for one can only be in the realm of freedom for a moment, no longer. Look how the wonderful track we are floating on is slowly melting away. Now you can watch freedom dying, if you open your eyes... ~ Robert Walser

Messengers often come when you struggle with a decision, need support or are trying to find your balance. They can come as animals like coyote and lizard appeared for Kate and for me. They can be spirit guides, angels, family members, ancestors and friends. A messenger can even be me! Many of them you will not notice because you are too preoccupied to see them. There may come a time, however, when you might sense the millions of angels too small to be witnessed, like fairies that live in the curve of a leaf or who sleep under the tiniest rose petal. ~ Kate McGahan

Imagine what it's like to be (untouchable)
Better not take a chance on me (untouchable)
I'm the bad boy your mama told you about
I'm dangerous, without a doubt
Even coming off a ten-year drought
Untouchable

I'm the rose with hidden thorns (untouchable)
Don't tell me that you haven't been warned (untouchable)
I'm pretty poison under the skin,
The bite of the apple that's a mortal sin
In a game of love you'll never win
Untouchable

My reputation's fairly earned (untouchable)
If you play with fire, you will get burned (untouchable)
Stay out of the kitchen if you can't take the heat,
My kisses are deadly as they are sweet,
I'm a runaway bus on a dead-end street
Untouchable

Fools rush in, that's what they say(untouchable)
But angels fall, too, most every day (untouchable)
I'm the snake in the garden, the siren on the reef
I have the face of a saint and the heart of a thief
I'll promise you love! And bring you nothing but grief
Untouchable

Hearing Jonah sing like this was like watching him slice himself open and show off his insides. Why would he do that? Why would be write such a song?
And then Emma answered her own question. Because good music always tells the truth, no matter how much it hurts.
Emma couldn't be the only one who felt the bite of the blade, but everyone else seemed to take it in stride. Did they know? Did ~ Cinda Williams Chima

A long-term romance is like a rose bush. In any given season, a blossom might fall off. But if the plant is well nourished, then the season will come around again, and new blossoms appear. ~ Marianne Williamson

I thought I should ask of thee---but I dared not---the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck. Thus I waited for the morning, when thou didst depart, to find a few fragments on the bed. And like a beggar I searched in the dawn only for a stray petal or two.

Ah me, what is it I find? What token left of thy love? It is no flower, no spices, no vase of perfumed water. It is thy mighty sword, flashing as a flame, heavy as a bolt of thunder. The young light of morning comes through the window and spread itself upon thy bed. The morning bird twitters and asks, `Woman, what hast thou got?' No, it is no flower, nor spices, nor vase of perfumed water---it is thy dreadful sword.

I sit and muse in wonder, what gift is this of thine. I can find no place to hide it. I am ashamed to wear it, frail as I am, and it hurts me when press it to my bosom. Yet shall I bear in my heart this honour of the burden of pain, this gift of thine.

From now there shall be no fear left for me in this world, and thou shalt be victorious in all my strife. Thou hast left death for my companion and I shall crown him with my life. Thy sword is with me to cut asunder my bonds, and there shall be no fear left for me in the world.

From now I leave off all petty decorations. Lord of my heart, no more shall there be for me waiting and weeping in corners, no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour. Thou hast given me thy sword for adornment. No more doll's decorations for me! ~ Rabindranath Tagore

The Devil's Rose

You would never take a rose from a beast.
If his callous hand were to hold out a scarlet flower, his grip unaffected by pricking thorns, you would shrink from the gift and refuse it. I know that is what you would do.

But the cunning beast will have his beauty.

He hunts not in hopeless pursuit, for fear would have you sprint all the day long. Thus, he turns toward the shadows and clutches the rosebud, crunching and twisting until every delicate petal is detached. One falls not far from your feet, and you notice the red spot in the snow.

The color sparkles in the sunlight, catching your curious eye. No beast stands in sight; there is nothing to fear, so you dare retrieve the lone petal. The touch of temptation is velvet against your thumb. It carries a scent you bring to your nose, and both eyes close to float on a cloud of perfume.

As your lashes lift, another scarlet drop stains the snow at a near distance. A glance around perceives no danger, and so your footprints scar the snowflakes to retrieve another rosy leaflet as soft and sweet as the first. Your eyes shine with flecks of golden greed at the discovery of more discarded petals, and you blame the wind for scattering them mere footprints apart. All you want is a few, so you step and snatch, step and snatch, step and snatch.

Soon, there is enough velvet to rub against your cheek like a silken kerchief. Your collection of one-plus ~ Richelle E. Goodrich