Red Roses Quotes

Roses aren't red,
the detail is. ~ Dominic Riccitello

The fans, the vampire groupies, love the idea of this androgynous, preternatural figure stalking the night, and craving aesthetic pleasure just as he craves blood, wearing only the best velvet clothes, and savoring red roses. ~ Anne Rice

Red roses for young lovers. French beans for longstanding relationships ~ Ruskin Bond

Amelia was instantly distracted when she heard one of her favorite songs: What a Wonderful World made famous by Louis Armstrong. The woman singing did the song justice as she sang:
I see trees of gree, red roses, too.
I see them bloom, for me and you.
And I think to myself.
What a wonderful world!
Before she could blink an eye, Rick pulled her into his arms in a waltz position.
He gave her a wink and said flirtatiously, "May I have this dance, my love?"
As they danced to the rhythm of the music, Amelia said, "Don't ever stop flirting with me, no matter how old we get."
"Never! ~ Linda Weaver Clarke

Here bloom red roses, dewy wet,
And beds of fragrant mignonette. ~ Goodale Sisters

You're back early from Chicago," Jim remarked, seemingly oblivious to his friend's cold reserve. "I wonder why?"
"You know damned well why," Nick retorted grimly.
Jim's brows lifted, but he turned his tawny, appreciative gaze on Lauren. "I'd tell you how gorgeous you look,but at the moment,Nick is already restraining the urge to knock my teeth down my throat.
"Why?" Lauren gasped, her own gaze flying to Nick's granite features.
Jim answered with a chuckle. "It has something to do with two dozen red roses and a kiss he witnessed.He's forgotten about a girl I was in love with once but couldn't quite get up the nerve to ask to marry me. He got tired of waiting for me to bolster my courage, so he sent Ericka two dozen-"
Nick's breath exploded in laughter. "You bastard," he said good-naturedly, and this time his handclasp was sincere. ~ Judith McNaught

Theta loved pretty things more than air or food. She had a deep fondness for full red roses, pink shells, and starry sunsets. ~ Lena Goldfinch

When Lauren returned from lunch there were two dozen breathtakingly gorgeous red roses in a vase on her desk. She removed the card from its envelope and stared at it in blank amazement. On it was written "Thank you, sweetheart," followed by the initial J.
When Lauren looked up,Nick was standing in the doorway,his shoulder casually propped against the frame. But there was nothing casual about the rigid set of his jaw or the freezing look in his gray eyes. "From a secret admirer?" he asked sarcastically.
It was the first personal comment he had addressed to her in four days. "Not a secret admirer exactly," she hedged.
"Who is he?"
Lauren tensed. He seemed so angry she didn't think it would be wise to mention Jim's name. "I'm not absolutely certain."
"You aren't absolutely certain?" he bit out. "How many men with the inital J are you seeing? How many of them think you're worth more than a hundred dollars in roses as a way of saying thank you?"
"A hundred dollars?" Lauren repeated, so appalled at the expense that she completely overlooked the fact that Nick had obviously opened the envelope and read the card.
"You must be getting better at it," he mocked crudely.
Inwardly Lauren flinched, but she lifted her chin. "I have much better teachers now!"
With an icy glance that raked her from head to toe,Nick turned on his heel and strode back into his office. For the rest of the day he left her completely alone. ~ Judith McNaught

Have you thought about retiring early?" "I've thought about it. I would lose a fair amount of my pension if I did. Besides, what would I do with myself?" "You could work for me." "Work ... as a ranch hand?" She laughed, genuinely amused by the image of herself in a cowboy hat cutting cattle that popped into her head. "I can't even walk in the snow without help." He glared at her. "You're a fantastic rider." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you truly offering me a job?" He stopped shoveling, rested on the hay fork, gave her a lopsided grin. "I would if it would keep you around." Something about that felt more romantic to her than a dozen red roses. "Jack West, you are a charming man." "Me?" He shook his head, got back to shoveling. "I think you need to look that word up in the dictionary, angel. ~ Pamela Clare

Your eyes hide a tenderness that is more sensitive than all the red roses of the world. ~ Avijeet Das

All of our early hits, 'Danke Schoen' and 'Red Roses,' were produced by Bobby Darin. ~ Wayne Newton

It was another blind date; this time her uncle had set her up. The plan: Meet outside of her fancy Midtown Manhattan office building. How would she recognize him? "I'll be the guy with the hole
in his boot," he told her. And there he was,
covered in dust from his construction job, with a
big hole in his fraying boot. What was supposed to be one drink turned into two . . . then a ride on the Ferris wheel in Toys R Us . . . then dinner. He wrote her this note exactly two months after their first date, delivering it rolled up and tied with a string, along with two red roses. They were married in July 2006.
(return ~ Bill Shapiro

Red roses lure you in with beauty and passion, which is why they suit Halston so well. Can they hurt you? Yes. If you don't know how to handle them. Beautiful things should be that way, difficult to get to, to touch. Otherwise it'd be too easy for people to destroy them. ~ Jessica Hawkins

Somewhere, in some shadowy bedroom of a leaf-strewn town, a father bolts the door to a child's room, then steps closer to the bed. In a neighbor's garden lurks a weed with a funny, blade-petaled flower, its poison choking the red roses. Somewhere a car is crashing; a phone is ringing in the center of night. The spider waits poised in the slipper. The bird swoops headlong into glass it thought was farther air. The strangler envisions a neighborhood of throats. The head finds the noose; the foot kicks the chair. ~ Scott Heim

But she had to go to bed first, and all night she slept soundly on her bed of hay, dreaming of nothing but of shining mountains with red roses all over them, among which happy little Snowflake went leaping in and out. ~ Johanna Spyri

All the roses from my kingdom are red. There's no need for paint. ~ Ishbelle Bee

I could have sworn I just heard him thinking about the proposal he had planned. Red roses and champagne waiting at the restaurant, but maybe I imagined it."
I frowned in turn. "You could read his thoughts?"
"It is probably just my imagination running away with me. I'm so freaked out that I plucked the idea from my own head. I'm not a mind reader."
"Well, it is easy enough to test. Try to concentrate on me and tell me what I'm thinking."
Finally, Nessa's eyes lit up and met mine. Amused, she quirked a smile at me. "Really, Cora, that's lame. I love fluffy bunnies, is not what I expected. ~ Andrea Heltsley

Roses are red, violets are blue, so are my balls thanks to you. ~ Ralphie May

Her poetry is written on the ghost of trees, whispered on the lips of lovers.
As a little girl, she would drift in and out of libraries filled with dead poets and their musky scent. She held them in her hands and breathed them in
wanting so much to be part of their world ...
It was on her sixteenth birthday that she first fell in love. With a boy who brought her red roses and white lies. When he broke her heart, she cried for days.
Then hopeful, she sat with a pen in her hand, poised over the blank white sheet, but it refused to draw blood ...
She learned too late that poets are among the damned, cursed to commiserate over their loss, to reach with outstretched hands
hands that will never know the weight of what they seek. ~ Lang Leav

Red roses symbolizes love. Thorns will hurt you and red roses consists of thorns. ~ Monika Ramzy

White roses and red roses: those were beautiful colours to think of. And the cards for first place and second place and third place were beautiful colours too: pink and cream and lavender. Lavender and cream and pink roses were beautiful to think of. Perhaps a wild rose might be like those colours and he remembered the song about the wild rose blossoms on the little green place. But you could not have a green rose. But perhaps somewhere in the world you could. ~ James Joyce

Red and white, the Tudor rose that symbolized the union between the Red Rose of Lancaster and the White Rose of York, blood and snow, passion and purity, fire and ice, hell and heaven, sinner and saint, conquest and surrender, whore and virgin, the red dazzle of rubies and the nacreous lustrous shimmer of pearls, innocence born from a bloody womb, the blood is the life, the cold white marble of death - a tomb effigy; red roses for the blood of martyrs. ~ Brandy Purdy

She was coming. I watched the slight figure grow out of the dusk between the trees, and the darkness in which I had walked of late fell away. The wood that had been so gloomy was a place of sunlight and song; had red roses sprung up around me I had felt no wonder. She came softly and slowly with bent head and hanging arms, not knowing that I was near. I went not to meet her - it was my fancy to have her come to me still - but when she raised her eyes and saw me I fell upon my knees. ~ Mary Johnston

My mother says that pain is hidden in everyone you see. She says try to imagine it like big bunches of flowers that everyone is carrying around with them. Think of your pain like a big bunch of red roses, a beautiful thorn necklace. Everyone has one. ~ Francesca Lia Block

It's like this," Mayuri had once explained, citing the several thousand pounds and five years in therapy she had spent to find herself. "You keep going to a bookstore and asking for a dozen red roses. They obviously don't have red roses and you come home disappointed. That's what's going on with your mother. You keep expecting roses and keep getting disappointed. I know not to ask for roses at a bookstore. That's why I have no issues with my amma." "You make it sound so easy," Priya said. "I didn't say it was easy," Mayuri said. "It took me a long time and a lot of effort. There were a lot of tequila shots, irresponsible one-night stands, and shrinks involved. ~ Amulya Malladi

I write the way I do because some women don't want red roses and champagne--they need black roses and knives. ~ Suzanne Steele

The Louvre! The Louvre has me in its clutches. Every time I'm there rich blessings rain down upon me. I am coming to understand Titian more and more and learning to love him. And then there is Botticelli's sweet Madonna, with red roses behind her, standing against a blue-green sky. And Fiesole with his poignant little biblical stories, so simply told, often so glorious in their colors. ~ Paula Modersohn-Becker

I don't get the point, really," I'd said as we contemplated the plastic-wrapped roses. "Why give a girl something that's supposed to represent love that's only going to wilt and die in a matter of hours?"
Steven laughed and said that was a pretty pessimistic way to view life, and I shrugged.
Then he said, "All the best things are like that, though, Lex, the most beautiful things. Part of the beauty comes from the fact that they're short-lived." He picked up a bouquet of deep-red roses, held it out to me. "These will never be as beautiful as they are at this moment, so we have to enjoy them now."
I stared at him. He scratched the back of his neck, a little red-faced, then gave me a sheepish grin. "Just call me a romantic," he said.
I wanted to say that there were some things in this world, some rare things, that were beautiful and stayed that way. ~ Cynthia Hand

For my own part, my constant prayer is that I may know the worst of my case, whatever the knowledge may cost me. I know that an accurate estimate of my own heart can never be otherwise than lowering to my self-esteem; but God forbid that I should be spared the humiliation which springs from the truth! The sweet red apples of self-esteem are deadly poison; who would wish to be destroyed thereby? The bitter fruits of self-knowledge are always healthful, especially if washed down with the waters of repentance, and sweetened with a draught from the wells of salvation; he who loves his own soul will not despise them. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Hey Chris, bet you don't know the Latin name of the red-headed woodpecker.
That was a hard one. Chris had to say Melanerpes erythrocephalus very slowly. ~ Ellen Raskin

My brunette with the golden eyes, your ivory body, your amber
Has left bright reflections in the room
Above the garden.
The clear midnight sky, under my closed lids,
Still shines ... I am drunk from so many roses
Redder than wine.
Leaving their garden, the roses have followed me ...
I drink their brief breath, I breathe their life.
All of them are here.
It's a miracle ... The stars have risen,
Hastily, across the wide windows
Where the melted gold pours.
Now, among the roses and the stars,
You, here in my room, loosening your robe,
And your nakedness glistens
Your unspeakable gaze rests on my eyes ...
Without stars and without flowers, I dream the impossible
In the cold night. ~ Renee Vivien

I raise my head and see a red illuminated EXIT sign and as my eyes adjust I see tigers, cavemen with long spears, cavewomen wearing strategically modest skins, wolfish dogs. My heart is racing and for a liquor-addled moment I think Holy shit, I've gone all the way back to the Stone Age until I realize that EXIT signs tend to congregate in the twentieth century. ~ Audrey Niffenegger

Gardening Work

There was a man breaking up the ground, getting ready to plant, when

another man came by, "Why are you ruining this land?" "Don't interfere. Nothing can grow here

until the earth is turned over and crumbled. There can be no roses and no orchard without

first this devastation. You must lance an ulcer to heal.
You must tear down parts of

an old building to restore it." So it is with the sensual life that has no spirit. A person must

face the dragon of his or her appetites with another dragon, the life energy of the soul. When

that's not strong, everyone seems to be full of fear and wanting, as one thinks

the room is spinning when one's whirling around. If your love has contracted into anger, the

atmosphere itself feels threatening, but when you're expansive and clear, no matter

what the weather, you're in an open windy field with friends. Many people travel as far as Syria

and Iraq and meet only hypocrites. Others go all the way to India and see only people buying and selling.

Others travel to Turkestan and China to discover those countries are full of cheats

and sneak thieves. You always see the qualities that live in you. A cow may walk

through the amazing city of Baghdad and notice only a watermelon rind and a tuft of hay

that fell off a wagon. Don't repeatedly keep doing what your lowest self ~ Rumi

Everything can happen in the playoffs. ~ Red Auerbach

She can take a year to read something, whereas I like a book that becomes more important in my life that life itself.
When I was in the middle of 'Red Storm Rising' by Tom Clancy - which was not selected for the Man Booker shortlist - you could have taken my liver out and fed it to the dog. And I wouldn't have noticed. ~ Jeremy Clarkson

Get it? Gender is a country, a field of signifying roses you can walk through, or wear tucked behind your ear.

Eventually the flower wilts & you can pick another, or burn the field, or turn & run back across the tracks.

(from "Essay on the Theory of Motion") ~ Cameron Awkward-Rich

I remember doing the sex scene in Red Rock West. I had to kiss Nic Cage and then look like I was going down on him. And he couldn't do anything - he just had to lie there. ~ Lara Flynn Boyle

Sparkling and bright in liquid light Does the wine our goblets gleam in; With hue as red as the rosy bed Which a bee would choose to dream in. ~ Charles Fenno Hoffman

You want me to pin my entire operation, the entire revolution on some teenaged love story? I can't believe this. ~ Victoria Aveyard

It was a placid explosion of orange and red, a great chromatic symphony, a
colour canvas of supernatural proportions, truly a splendid Pacific sunset, quite wasted on me. ~ Yann Martel

Max felt his eye twitching. He knew he should be yelling, but his limbs wouldn't move. This was what it felt like to be paralyzed with rage. Yes, he was going to do it. He was going to finally go utterly psychotic and prove the whole town right. He was going to walk over to those arrogant assholes and take the first one apart. Then he'd beat the other one to death with his dead brother's leg. He looked to his own brother. Rye would save him from his towering rage. Rye would have calming words. Rye would talk him down.
Rye's face was red as he pointed at the young cowboys. You, kill now, Max. ~ Sophie Oak

Out of the Slow Food movement has grown something called the Slow Cities movement, which has started in Italy but has spread right across Europe and beyond. And in this, towns begin to rethink how they organize the urban landscape so that people are encouraged to slow down and smell the roses and connect with one another. ~ Carl Honore

The planet's famous red colour is from iron oxide coating everything. So it's not just a desert. It's a desert so old it's literally rusting. ~ Andy Weir

It's our age-old hereditary sorrow that no-one can give himself absolution and God can't, either. God - this little figment of overworked imagination, God - this pallid lie born of desperation - we say God - and we mean humanity, ourselves and others. The longing for a human being is genuine - a human being is more than God - a human being is a beast and God. Longing for God - damned laziness which costs nothing. Mild, bloodless hysteria. Longing for a human being - you pay for that with your blood and with your self and with your flesh - your longing for God can be settled with promissory notes - rags -paper - a drop of red blood is worth more than three prayers. ~ Irmgard Keun

These steel monstrosities screamed night and day, blotted out the starlit skies and Northern Lights with flashing red strobes, slaughtered thousands of bats and entire flocks of birds banished tourism and wildlife, made people sick and drove them from their now-valueless homes. ~ Mike Bond

There would be a blaze and a confusion, in which timid men would doubt whether the constitution would be burned to tinder or only illuminated; but that blaze and that confusion would be dear to Mr. Daubney if he could stand as the centre figure, the great pyrotechnist who did it all, red from head to foot with the glare of the squibs with which his own hands were filling all the spaces. ~ Anthony Trollope

Lawful heart, did any one ever see such freckles? And hair as red as carrots! ~ L.M. Montgomery

When rowan leaves are dank and rusting And rowan berries red as blood, When in my palm the hangman's thrusting The final nail with bony thud, When, over the foul flooding river, Upon the wet grey height, I toss Before my land's grim looks, and shiver As I swing here upon the cross, Then, through the blood and weeping, stretches My dying sight to space remote; I see upon the river's reaches Christ sailing to me in a boat. ~ Alexander Blok

What does it mean to grow rich?
Is it to have red-blooded adventures and to make a 'fortune,' which is what brought the whalers and other entrepreneurs north?

Or is it, rather, to have a good family life and to be imbued with a far-reaching and intimate knowledge of one's homeland, which is what the Tununirmiut told the whalers at Pond's Bay wealth was?

Is it to retain a capacity for awe and astonishment in our lives, to continue to hunger after what is genuine and worthy? Is it to live at moral peace with the universe? ~ Barry Lopez

Sean Corcoran and his wife saw a large, dark creature that swam across the lake before alighting on a rock and standing on its back legs, giving it a height of about 1.7 m. Curiously, its flipper-like extremities were red or orange. ~ Darren Naish

On the Hunger Games Fan Race fail and the portrayal of POC in fantasy literature:
It is as if the POC in the text are walking around with a great big red sign over them for some editors and it reads I AM NOT A REAL CHARACTER. I AM A PROBLEM YOU MUST DEAL WITH. The white characters are permitted to saunter about with their physical descriptions hanging out all over the place, but best not make mention of dark skin or woolly/curly hair or dark eyes (Unless, of course, that character is white. None of my white-skinned dark-eyed characters had any problem being described as such. And I'm pretty sure that Sól's curly hair never gave anyone a single pause for thought.) As I said, I understand the desire not to define a POC simply by their physical attributes, and I understand cutting physical descriptions if no other character is described physically – but pussyfooting about in this manner with POC is doing nothing but white wash the characters themselves. It's already much too hard to get readers to latch onto the fact that some characters may not be caucasian, why must we dance about their physical description as if it were some kind of shameful dirty little secret. You know what it reminds me of? It reminds me of the way homosexuality used to only ever be hinted at in texts. It was up to the reader to 'read between the lines' or 'its there if you look for it' and all that total bullshit which used to be the norm. ~ Celine Kiernan

It's a red sky every night with Cosmic Ordering. ~ Stephen Richards

Alexandra took the rose and lifted it to her face. The fragrance was intoxicating and the soft petals tickled her lips, as they must have done Benedict's. It was as if he had kissed her. A shiver of delight caressed her body and she felt the warmth of a blush on her throat and cheeks. ~ Ellen Read

I turned into Little Red Riding Hood. I made a cake, packed it up and went through the forest until I met the wolves. That's something the story got wrong, wolves don't travel solo, they hunt in packs. ~ Louise Welsh

No, it didn't hurt. He didn't want to lose any black hair, and he was careful to pull out the white hairs one by one. But when he had finished, the skin was drawn and shriveled. It hurt when you ran your hand over it, the doctor said. It didn't bleed, but it was raw and red. Finally he was put in a mental hospital ... He didn't want to be old, he wanted to be young again. No one seems to know whether he started pulling it out because he had lost his mind, or he lost his mind because he pulled out too much. ~ Yasunari Kawabata

This is the second Simply Red song on this tape. One's unforgivable. Two's a war crime. Can I fast-forward? ~ Nick Hornby

My dad was in the Swedish armed forces, he was always reading up on different weapons from the Americans and Soviets. When I was a kid, I was in bed looking at his books, reading about the Red Army. So I was very aware of it. I had an interest in military matters ever since. ~ Dolph Lundgren

With a heavy heart, I turned and walked away. I knew that as long as I lived I'd never forget the two little graves and the sacred red fern. ~ Wilson Rawls

I'm like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. If I'm not ready, the sled isn't going to go. ~ Kevin Garnett

I am a Nobel Peace laureate and my business should be to try to bring stability, not to be a red rag to bulls. ~ Desmond Tutu

I try to be gentle, but there is nothing gentle about the feelings she evokes in me. She's pure flame, and like her wild hair, she's making me burn. ~ Anna B. Doe

Treaties you see are like girls and roses; they last while they last. ~ Charles De Gaulle

The main distinction for fresh chillies is whether they are red or green, the difference being one of ripeness. ~ Yotam Ottolenghi

I'm a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. ~ Cameron Diaz

Candlelight flickered in the adjacent bedroom. She followed the ambient warmth to the threshold and paused there, marveling at what she saw. Lucan's austere bedroom had been transformed into something out of a dream. Four tall black pillar candles set into intricate silver sconces burned in each corner. Red silk draped the bed. On the floor before the fireplace was a cushioned next of fluffy pillows and even more crimson silk. It looked so romantic, so inviting.
A room intended for lovemaking.
She took a step farther inside. Behind her, the door closed softly on its own.
No, not quite on its own. Lucan was there, standing on the other side of the room, watching her. His hair was damp from a shower. He wore a loosely tied, satiny red robe that skated around his bare calves, and there was a heated look in his eyes that melted her where she stood.
"For you," he said, indicating the romantic setting. "For us tonight. I want things to be special for you."
Gabrielle was moved, instantly aroused by the sight of him, but she couldn't bear to make love the way things had been left between them.
"When I left tonight, I wasn't going to come back," she told him from the safety of distance. If she went any closer, she didn't think she'd have the strength to say what had to be said. "I can't do this anymore, Lucan. I need things from you that you can't give me."
"Name them." It was a soft command, but still a command. He moved toward her with careful ste ~ Lara Adrian

It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair,
Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair.

Tell me not of your starry eyes,
Your lips that seem on roses fed,
Your breasts where Cupid trembling lies,
Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed.

...Give me, instead of beauty's bust,
A tender heart, a loyal mind,
Which with temptation I could trust,
Yet never linked with error find.

One in whose gentle bosom I
Could pour my secret heart of woes.
Like the care-burdened honey-fly
That hides his murmurs in the rose.

My earthly comforter! whose love
So indefeasible might be,
That when my spirit won above
Hers could not stay for sympathy. ~ George Darley