Rose Calloway Quotes

His look darkens and he heaves me against his chest forcing me to look at him. What I do know is that you are disrespectful and disobedient. And that is something that we have to change, don't we? ~ Aileen Rose

The redness was going out of the light now, the remains of the day were a fading pink, the color of wild roses. ~ Stephen King

From east to west, in fact, her gaze swept slowly, without encountering a single obstacle, along a perfect curve. Beneath her, the blue-and-white terraces of the Arab town overlapped one another, splattered with the dark-red spots of the peppers drying in the sun. Not a soul could be seen, but from the inner courts, together with the aroma of roasting coffee, there rose laughing voices or incomprehensible stamping of feet. Father off, the palm grove, divided into uneven squares by clay walls, rustled its upper foliage in a wind that could not be felt up on the terace. Still farther off and all the way to the horizon extended the ocher-and-gray realm of stones, in which no life was visible. At some distance from the oasis, however, near the wadi that bordered the palm grove on the west could be seen broad black tents. All around them a flock of motionless dromedaries, tiny at the distance, formed against the gray ground the black signs of a strange handwriting, the meaning of which had to be deciphered. Above the desert, the silence was as vast as the space.

Janine, leaning her whole body against the parapet, was speechless, unable to tear herself away from the void opening before her. Beside her, Marcel was getting restless. He was cold; he wanted to go back down. What was there to see here, after all? But she could not take her gaze from the horizon. Over yonder, still farther south, at that point where sky and earth met in a pure line - over yonder it suddenly s ~ Albert Camus

Rose Gardner, what in heaven's name happened ~ Denise Grover Swank

I can see how I could write a bold account of myself as a passionate man who rose from humble beginnings to cut a wide swath in the world, whose crimes along the way might be written off to extravagance and love and art, and could even almost believe some of it myself on certain days after the sun went down if I'd had a snort or two and was in Los Angeles and it was February and I was twenty-four, but I find a truer account in the Herald-Star, where it says: "Mr. Gary Keillor visited at the home of Al and Florence Crandall on Monday and after lunch returned to St. Paul, where he is currently employed in the radio show business ... Lunch was fried chicken with gravy and creamed peas". ~ Garrison Keillor

Maurice Kenny stands at the forefront of his generation. Few writers of any ethnicity are destined to be remembered in the mainstream of literary history; I believe that Kenny's contributions as a poet are among those few. He writes from the center, as our Elders would say. ~ Wendy Rose

I feel like I have everything else as far as being creative and athletic. But it's the little things that's going to push me over, like ball-handling, passing, boxing out when I'm setting screens. Little things like that that you would overlook that can make me a complete player. ~ Derrick Rose

her proficiency in the Classics would somehow stand her in better stead when opening and closing filing-cabinet drawers and conducting endless searches among a sea of buff-coloured folders. It wasn't quite the 'interesting job' she had envisaged but it kept her attention and over the next ten years she rose slowly through the ranks, in the bridled way that women did. ('One day a woman will be Prime Minister,' Pamela said. 'Maybe even in our lifetime.') Now Ursula had her own junior clericals to chase down the buff folders for her. She supposed that was progress. Since '36 she'd been working in the Air Raid Precautions Department. 'You've not heard rumours then?' Pamela said. 'I'm a lowly squaw, I hear nothing but rumours.' 'Maurice can't say what he does,' Pamela grumbled. 'Couldn't ~ Kate Atkinson

She rose as Leland came over to her desk and hugged her. He was tall and rotund, with arched bushy eyebrows and sagging jowls, a large head and rosy cheeks and a white crew cut. Those who met him for the first time found him physically intimidating, and indeed, in repose, he often wore an imperious expression, made even more threatening by his arched brows. ~ Joseph Finder

Some of the males rose from the table then, making noise about a rugby rematch. MacRieve tensed, but didn't join them.
When a couple of the men said things in Gaelic, their tones taunting, she asked, "Are they trash-talking you?"
"Oh, aye. According to them, I'm the veriest pussy. Already mate-whipped. ~ Kresley Cole

At one stopover on the train journey home, Hans told his sister Inge later, he saw a young girl with the Star of David on her breast; she was repairing tracks on the line, along with other people with yellow badges on their clothes. Her face was pallid, sunken in; her eyes, beyond grief and terror. Impulsively, Hans thrust his rations in her hand. She looked up at him, then at his uniform. She threw the packet of food to the ground.
He scooped it up, wiped off the dust, and picked a daisy growing by the side of the tracks. He placed the package, with the daisy on top, at her feet. He said, "I would have liked to give you a little pleasure." He boarded the train.
When he looked back, the girl was standing there, watching the train disappear, the flower in her hair. ~ Jud Newborn

It is not tears but determination that makes pain bearable. ~ Rose Kennedy

Never forget that the road to Heaven is the Way of the Cross. Jesus has called us to follow Him, bearing the Cross as He did. ~ Rose Philippine Duchesne

It's amazing, how I want to kill her and save her all at the same time. I'm not sure which I'll end up doing tonight. ~ K.V. Rose

I had lost my dad. I had come here to this island from a house of tears and falsehood and I saw Gat, and I saw that rose in his hand, and in that one moment, with the sunlight from the window shining in on him, the apples on the kitchen counter, the smell of wood and ocean in the air, I did call it love. ~ E. Lockhart

I really like questions. I like people who write scripts because they're asking questions, not because they're giving answers. It's something that I look for. ~ Rose McIver

Remember that the Unification Church rose, not in freedom, but from a prison, the pit of suffering. ~ Sun Myung Moon

It's difficult to say what's luck and what's not because everything depends on what you learn along the way, and that depends on you as an individual. So I suppose, no, I don't believe in it. ~ Chloe Rose Lattanzi

That's why they pay me the medium-sized bucks. ~ Karen Rose

They were connoisseurs of boredom. They savoured the various bouquets of the subtly differentiated boredoms which rose from the long, wasted hours at the dead end of night. ~ Angela Carter

Okay?Okay?" People in the hall stared at us. I realized I was practically shouting. "He's out of his mind. He set Ralf on fire. I thought we decided you weren't going to see him anymore."
"You decided, Rose. Not me." There was an edge in her voice I hadn't heard in a while.
"What's going on here? Are you guys ... you know? ... "
"No!" she insisted. "I told you that already.God." She shot me a look of disgust. "Not everyone thinks - and acts - like you."
I flinched at the words. ~ Richelle Mead

Whatever may happen the sun will rise tomorrow as it rose to-day, beneficent and serene. ~ Paul Gauguin

I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden. Along with sunshine, there's got to be a little rain sometime. ~ Lynn Anderson

In my novels, there are twelve ancient 'memory tools,' all now lost. Each of the 'Reincarnationist' books revolves around a different tool. ~ M.J. Rose

If you know how to make people happy with a single look, then you are a rose! If you know how to hurt people with a single touch, then you're a thorn! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

But I've got news for Nicholas Benjamin Rose: if he thinks I'm not the biggest waste of time that's ever happened to him, he's got another think coming. ~ Sarah Hogle

Think about your dreams. Think of every detail of what you want to manifest. Imagine every person included in your plans. Sense all the emotions that you want to happen when your dreams come true. Visualize where will you be when your dreams already happened. Breathe the air where you want to manifest it. Dream. Imagine. Believe. There's no more truer than this. It is what it is. ~ Diana Rose Morcilla

The dear Lord has favored us with a share of His cross. The greatest and undoubtedly the hardest to bear is the lack of success in our work here. If a saint had been in charge, all would have gone well. ~ Rose Philippine Duchesne

The moon, a sliver of white light, rose a hand above the horizon, then, tired, fell back. The purple blackness overhead faded into grey, the grey into pale blue; this was followed quickly by pastel reds and oranges, and finally, yellow rays streamed through the trees as the sun climbed. ~ Eden Robinson

Molly grabbed a vase off the mantel and flung it at the wall, knocking it into a painting of a mountain scene. The vase shattered and the picture frame swayed back and forth on the wall, taunting her with an image of what life was supposed to be like. . . ~ Susan Rose

Food became the antidote for feelings of guilt, sadness, and anger ... Food is a resolution to controversy; food is rescue. We ate and talked and cried and laughed in the kitchen and ate again. This was about more than just food. It was about our mom making connections the best she could and in the way she knew best across the kitchen table, across time and across sadness. ~ Rose Quiello

WILDE: Oh - Bosie! (He weeps.) I have to go back to him, you know. Robbie will be furious but it can't be helped. The betrayal of one's friends is a bagatelle in the stakes of love, but the betrayal of oneself is a lifelong regret. Bosie is what became of me. He is spoiled, vindictive, utterly selfish and not very talented, but these are merely the facts. The truth is he was Hyacinth when Apollo loved him, he is ivory and gold, from his red rose-leaf lips comes music that fills me with joy, he is the only one who understands me. 'Even as a teething child throbs with ferment, so does the soul of him who gazes upon the boy's beauty; he can neither sleep at night nor keep still by day,' and a lot more besides, but before Plato could describe love, the loved one had to be invented. We would never love anybody if we could see past our invention. Bosie is my creation, my poem. In the mirror of invention, love discovered itself. Then we saw what we had made - the piece of ice in the fist you cannot hold or let go. (He weeps.) ~ Tom Stoppard

I don't know what to think about this new, responsible Rose. ~ Richelle Mead

The question of common sense is always: 'what is it good for?' -
a question which would abolish the rose and be answered triumphantly by the cabbage. ~ James Russell Lowell

Soft sun shone down on a misty cathedral at the opposite end of a football-field length courtyard. The cathedral had a long pointed tower with beautiful rose and ivory stained glass windows. Pink-petal flowers and deep green ivy climbed the stones from the ground to it's roof. A large fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard with water falling from several lion's heads. Between the misty air and rolling slope of the earth, the grounds reminded me of a long lost fairy tale. ~ Priya Ardis

The trees were tinted exquisitely to an uncertain glory as the great red sinking sun flashed its rays on their crystal mantle. The vale of Aylesbury was drowsing beneath a slowly deepening shroud of mist. Above it the hills, their crests rounded and shaded by silver and rose coppices, seemed to have set in them great smoky eyes of flame where the last rays burned in them.
'It is like some dream world,' thought Mr. Cort. 'It is curious how, wherever the sun strikes, it seems to make an eye, and each one fixed on me; those hills, even those windows. But, judging from that mist, I shall have a slow journey home ...
("Blind Man's Bluff") ~ H.R. Wakefield

When people ask me, "Who was the toughest pitcher you ever faced?", I have to say that there has never been a pitcher who over-impressed me. That's not meant to be a bragging statement. It's just that I get up for good pitchers. ~ Pete Rose

Was he hitting some type of werewolf midlife crisis? First, he'd left Wolf Town, and now he was envisioning a mate. What next? Bird watching? Board games? Retirement homes? ~ Rose Wynters