Rose Tico Quotes

Poe hesitated before he asked, "So the two of you aren't..."
Finn looked puzzled at first, but then his expression shifted to amusement. "No, nothing like that. Just friends."
"And Rose?"
"Oh." Finn shook his head no. "We talked about it, and Crait was... a moment. But that's it. Friends there, too."
Poe laughed. "I can't keep up with your 'just friends,' man. ~ Rebecca Roanhorse

Montenegro (1877)

THEY rose to where their sovereign eagle sails,
They kept their faith, their freedom, on the height,
Chaste, frugal, savage, arm'd by day and night
Against the Turk; whose inroad nowhere scales
Their headlong passes, but his footstep fails,
And red with blood the Crescent reels from fight
Before their dauntless hundreds, in prone flight
By thousands down the crags and thro' the vales.
O smallest among peoples! rough rock-throne
Of Freedom! warriors beating back the swarm
Of Turkish Islam for five hundred years,
Great Tsernogora! never since thine own
Black ridges drew the cloud and brake the storm
Has breathed a race of mightier mountaineers.
Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1880 ~ Alfred Tennyson

Degan struck the wall with the back of his head, bounced off, and fell to his knees. Hadrian felt the pain in his knuckles and only then realized he had hit him.

Gaunt glared up, his eyes watering, his hands cupping his face. "Crazy fool! Are you mad?"

"What's going on?" Arista called back down the line.

"This idiot just punched me in the face! My nose is bleeding!"

"Hadrian did?" the princess said, stunned.

"It was… an accident," Hadrian replied, knowing it sounded feeble, but not knowing how else to describe his actions. He had not meant to hit Gaunt; it had just happened.

"You accidentally punched him?" Wyatt asked, suppressing a chuckle. "I'm not sure you have a full understanding of the whole bodyguard thing."

"Hadrian!" Royce called.

"What?" he shouted back, irritated that even Royce was going to join in this embarrassing moment.

"Come up here. I need you to look at something."

Degan was still on his knees in a pool of water. "Um - sorry 'bout that."

"Get away from me!"

Hadrian moved up the line as Wyatt, Elden, and Myron pressed themselves against the walls to let him pass, each one looking at him curiously.

"What did he do?" Arista whispered as he reached her.

"Nothing, really."

Her eyebrows rose. "You punched him for no reason?"

"Well, no, but - it's complicated. I'm not even sure I understand ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You don't realize how much you miss something till it comes back to you, and then you wonder how you went so long without it. ~ Cassandra Rose Clarke

It occurs to me now that we mostly live facing "forward" – toward the future. Goals stretch away before us; we reach them one by one, as if driving down a highway. We glance into our rearview mirror now and then, but we don't truly look back until the journey's ended. And then, of course, it all looks different. The road curved and rose and fell more than we realized. The sequence wasn't half as tidy as we thought. Looking back, we see something complex but also strangely perfect. We see something completed. ~ Peter Barton

The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it. ~ Joseph Smith Jr.

He rose up and looked down at her. "If I'd known you were out there, I would've begun searching for you thousands of years ago."
Her smile was soft and glorious. "That was the perfect response."
"It's the truth. ~ Donna Grant

When the Romantic Novelists' Association was founded 35 years ago (in 1960) the image was of pink fluffy bimbos. Now, the view of life through rose-coloured spectacles has gone out of the window. A realistic background and certainly a more realistic relationship between a man and a woman are the important things. ~ Jean Chapman

I'll wait for you," I said, finally.
"I don't know how long it will take…or even if--"
"I'll wait. ~ Emery Rose

The fact that, within ten years, I lost one world, and after a time rose again, as it were, from spiritual death to find another, seems to me one of the strongest arguments against suicide that life can provide. There may not be - I believe that there is not - resurrection after death, but nothing could prove more conclusively than my own brief but eventful history the fact that resurrection is possible within our limited span of earthly time. ~ Vera Brittain

I am the one rich thing that morn
Leaves for the ardent noon to win;
Grasp me not, I have a thorn,
But bend and take my being in. ~ Harriet Elizabeth Prescott Spofford

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

It was not a monster that lay sleeping on the white sheets. Nor a faceless horror. Nor even the white bear.
It was a man.
His hair was golden, glowing bright as a bonfire in the light of the candle. And his features were fair, I suppose, but he was a stranger and that somehow was the greatest shock of all- that I had been lying all these months beside a complete stranger. ~ Edith Pattou

Suppose it was even as you think," he went on, even more gently. "Suppose that all you say was a fact, and that our Elders were but greedy tyrants, ourselves abandoned here by their selfish will and set to fulfill a false and prideful purpose. No." Jamethon's voice rose. "Let me attest as if it were only for myself. Suppose that you could give me proof that all our Elders lied, that our very Covenant was false. Suppose that you could prove to me" - his face lifted to mine and his voice drove at me - "that all was perversion and falsehood, and nowhere among the Chosen, not even in the house of my father, was there faith or hope! If you could prove to me that no miracle could save me, that no soul stood with me, and that opposed were all the legions of the universe, still I, I alone, Mr. Olyn, would go forward as I have been commanded, to the end of the universe, to the culmination of eternity. For without my faith I am but common earth. But with my faith, there is no power can stay me! ~ Gordon R. Dickson

There was a very obnoxious phase for Axl Rose. I'm sure if I had experienced as much success as he had, I would probably be a third as obnoxious. I'd probably be obnoxious, too. But not that much. ~ Britt Daniel

Desire is simple," he said. "Desire is something even a machine can understand." There was a stillness in the air that mirrored the stillness of his body. "But when I desired you I began to love you. You were the first being I ever loved. I didn't know it, of course. I had no idea what it meant, no idea what I was feeling. Love was never something I was supposed to experience. I don't think I was supposed to know desire, either, but she never expected me to meet you." He laughed against her skin. "Later, after your father ... when he took out those restrictions, I was finally able to understand the complexities of love. Even if I didn't want to. At first. ~ Cassandra Rose Clarke

And to Rhaego son of Drogo, the stallion who will mount the world, to him I also pledge a gift. To him I will give this iron chair his mother's father sat in. I will give him Seven Kingdoms. I, Drogo, khal, will do this thing.' His voice rose, and he lifted his fist in the sky. 'I will take my khalasar west to where the world ends, and ride the wooden horses across the black salt water as no khal has done before. I will kill the men in the iron suits and tear down their stone houses. I will rape their women, take their children as slaves, and bring their broken gods back to Vaes Dothrak to bow down beneath the Mother of Mountains. This I vow, I, Drogo son of Bharbo. This I swear before the Mother of Mountains, as the stars look down in witness. ~ George R R Martin

One day, I'll run away to you. ~ Katharine McMahon

You can not pluck roses without fear of thorns, Nor enjoy a fair wife without danger of horns. ~ Benjamin Franklin

His red eyes swung in my direction. Without a second glance, he released the dead man's body. It hit the ground with a loud thump, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. He was already dead, but even if he wasn't, there wasn't a thing in this world I could do for him. My death was waiting in those red eyes as well, if I didn't figure out how to save myself in the next few seconds. ~ Rose Wynters

Dimity said, "I wrote him poetry!"
( ... ) "Dimity," Sophronia said, horrified by such an admission, "you didn't give him the poetry, did you?"
"Certainly not."
Sidheag tilted back in her chair, grinning. "Well, let's hear it."
"Oh, no. I don't think that's a good idea at all."
But Dimity was already dipping into her reticule and pulling out a scrap of paper. She gave it to Sidheag, who read it with a perfectly straight face, her tawny eyes dancing, and then passed it Sophronia.
"My love is like a red red rose
Occasionally he has a red red nose
He could keep me warm in the snows
I wager he has very nice toes."
Sophronia could think of nothing to say except, "Oh, Dimity. ~ Gail Carriger

Other humans believed the same way they breathed: it came natural to them. The world was filled with synagogues and churches, mosques and temples, shrines to Elron and Ogko. New faiths rose and fell like breath. They bred like flies. They died like species. ~ Lavie Tidhar

Babies are soft. Anyone looking at them can see the tender, fragile skin and know it for the rose-leaf softness that invites a finger's touch. But when you live with them and love them, you feel the softness going inward, the round-cheeked flesh wobbly as custard, the boneless splay of the tiny hands. Their joints are melted rubber, and even when you kiss them hard, in the passion of loving their existence, your lips sink down and seem never to find bone. Holding them against you, they melt and mold, as though they might at any moment flow back into your body.

But from the very start, there is that small streak of steel within each child. That thing that says "I am," and forms the core of personality.

In the second year, the bone hardens and the child stands upright, skull wide and solid, a helmet protecting the softness within. And "I am" grows, too. Looking at them, you can almost see it, sturdy as heartwood, glowing through the translucent flesh.

The bones of the face emerge at six, and the soul within is fixed at seven. The process of encapsulation goes on, to reach its peak in the glossy shell of adolescence, when all softness then is hidden under the nacreous layers of the multiple new personalities that teenagers try on to guard themselves.

In the next years, the hardening spreads from the center, as one finds and fixes the facets of the soul, until "I am" is set, delicate and detailed as an insect in amber. ~ Diana Gabaldon

Do you remember when we read The Little Prince together for the first time? I was so upset that he died in the end. I didn't understand how he could choose death just so he could get back to his rose. I think I understand it now. He wasn't choosing to die. His rose was his whole life. Without her, he wasn't really alive. ~ Nicola Yoon

There was shuffling and rustling around me, then Henry Reed was giving his valedictory address, "To Be or Not to Be." Hadn't he heard the whitefolks? We couldn't be, so the question was a waste of time. Henry's voice came out clear and strong. I feared to look at him. Hadn't he got the message? There was no "nobler in the mind" for Negroes because the world didn't think we had minds, and they let us know it. "Outrageous fortune"? Now, that was a joke. When the ceremony was over I had to tell Henry Reed some things. That is, if I still cared. Not "rub," Henry, "erase." "Ah, there's the erase." Us. Henry had been a good student in elocution. His voice rose on tides of promise and fell on waves of warnings. The English teacher had helped him to create a sermon winging through Hamlet's soliloquy. To be a man, a doer, a builder, a leader, or to be a tool, an unfunny joke, a crusher of funky toadstools. I marveled that Henry could go through with the speech as if we had a choice. I had been listening and silently rebutting each sentence with my eyes closed; then there was a hush, which in an audience warns that something unplanned is happening. ~ Maya Angelou

Night time
You'll find her there
Blooming
Like a night rose. ~ Melody Lee

The Morning after Woe- Tis frequently the Way- Surpasses all that rose before- For utter Jubilee-. ~ Emily Dickinson

The rose does best as a rose. Lilies make the best lilies. And look! You - the best you around! ~ Rumi

It's the age-old tale of complacency, Shea." The tall warrior sighed deeply and stretched as he rose. "We may be standing on the brink of the greatest war in a thousand years, but no one wants to accept the fact. Everyone gets in the same rut - let a few take care of the gates to the city while the rest forget and go back to their homes. It becomes a habit - depending on a few to protect the rest. And then one day ... the few are not enough, and the enemy is within the city - right through the open gates ... ~ Terry Brooks

When I tell people that I'm into literature, they usually laugh. Then they hear me talk, and their whole perception of me changes. ~ Paige Love -Rose

I don't like this, Toua," I go on. "We're like birds that have flown a very long way from their nest. We're like nettles in a garden full of hops. We shouldn't have to hide who we are. Our faces are unseen. ~ Rose Christo

Anger rose in me. Didn't they know how hard I'd been working to overcome my family background? Now all my efforts were wasted. ~ Ji-li Jiang

There were no ravens to be seen. Abruptly a fox burst out of the trees, running hard. Ravens poured from the branches after it. The beat of their wings almost drowned out a desperate whining from the fox. A black whirlwind dove and swirled around it. The fox's jaws snapped at them, but they darted in, and darted away untouched, black beaks glistening wetly. The fox turned back toward the trees, seeking the safety of its den. It ran awkwardly now, head low, fur dark and bloody, and the ravens flapped around it, more and more of them at once, the fluttering mass thickening until it hid the fox completely. As suddenly as they had descended the ravens rose, wheeled, and vanished over the next rise to the south. A misshapen lump of torn fur marked what had been the fox. ~ Robert Jordan

He calls me Josephine. He says I'm an angel, a saint, his good lucky star. I know I'm no angel, but in truth I have begun to like this Josephine he sees. She is intelligent; she amuses; she is pleasing. She is grace and charm and heart. Unlike Rose; scared, haunted and needy. Unlike Rose with her sad life. ~ Sandra Gulland

Of course, some might consider any get-together with Rose Hathaway and Lissa Dragomir a wild time. ~ Richelle Mead

To the writers who create how we see one another and ourselves: You are responsible. What you write forms the thoughts and self images of billions of humans. Take care with your words and your images. Grow up. Get smarter. Think deep. ~ Rose McGowan

There must be a mirror to show the soul to itself before the soul can begin to gather its courage. ~ Mary Rose O'Reilley

In a slow, pleasant voice, Prince Alaerec asked mild questions--weather, travel, Bran's day and how he'd filled it. I stayed silent as the three of them worked away at this limping conversation. The Renselaeus father and son were skilled enough at nothing-talk, but poor Bran stumbled over half his words, sending frequent glances at me. In the past I'd often spoken for both of us, for truth was he felt awkward with his tongue and was somewhat shy with new people, but I did not feel like speaking until I'd sorted my emotions out--and there was no time for that.
To bridge his own feelings, my brother gulped at the very fine wine they offered. Soon a servant came in and announced that dinner was ready, and the old Prince rose slowly, leaning heavily on a cane. His back was straight, though, as he led the way to a dining room. Bran and I fell in behind, I treading cautiously, with my skirts bunched in either hand.
Bran snickered. I looked up, saw him watching me, his face flushed. "Life, Mel, are you supposed to walk like that?" He snickered again, swallowed the rest of his third glass of wine, then added, "Looks like you got eggs in those shoes."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to walk," I mumbled, acutely aware of that bland-faced, elegantly dressed Marquis right behind us, and elbowed Bran in the side. "Stop laughing! If I drop these skirts, I'll trip over them."
"Why didn't you just ask for riding gear?"
"And a coach-and-six while I was at it? This is w ~ Sherwood Smith

He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness! ... He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love ... He has carried me off for love! ... He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love! ... But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps! ... And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty ... he offered it ... he offered to show me the mysterious road ... Only ... only he rose too ... and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice ... for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed! ... That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep. ~ Gaston Leroux