Dawn rose from the desert and turned the river to wine.
There is nothing more difficult for a truly creative painter than to paint a rose, because before he can do so he has first to forget all the roses that were ever painted.
Their own souls rose and cried Alarum when they heard the sudden wail Of stricken freedom and along the gale Saw her eternal banner quivering wide.
You'd be surprised. Besides, they don't even send royal traitors to prison, Rose. Everyone knows that. " I scoffed. "Are you insane? Of course they do. What else do you think they do with traitors? Set them free and tell them not to do it again?" "No," said Abe, just before he turned away. "They execute traitors.
This is the blood's wild tree that grows the intricate and folded rose
I can't wait until this show gets on the road," he said. "You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories. . . " The reference to "ghost stories" hit a little closer to home than I was comfortable with. Not that choosing curtains or brushing Christian's hair was much more appealing.
Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away.
A gratitude-heart Is to discover on earth A Heaven-delivered rose
The moment the curtain rose on that first ballet, I knew something wonderful and new had come into my life. I can still see the first scene. The ballet was Divertimento No. 15
Your slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open petal by petal myself a Spring opens her first rose.
We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.
Then she lay on her back and gazed at the cloudless sky. Mr. Beebe, whose opinion of her rose daily, whispered to his niece that that was the proper way to behave if any little thing went wrong.
Do you think you love your children better than He who made them? Is not your love what it is because He put it into your heart first? Have you not often been cross with them? Sometimes unjust to them? Whence came the returning love that rose from unknown depths in your being, and swept away the anger and the injustice? You did not create that love. Probably you were not good enough to send for it by prayer. But it came. God sent it. He makes you love your children.
I like The Smiths as well. They took a cue from The Buzzcocks. They have jangly guitars instead of distorted guitars. All the Manchester bands have a character about them. The Stone Roses and The Smiths and all that. Even if you don't like them, they have a certain original sound.
Who but knows How it goes! Life's a last year's Nightingale, Love's a last year's rose.
I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.
The Rose which here on earth is now perceived by me, has blossomed thus in god from all eternity.
The gardener gives us roses, not gardeners.
I'm Gentleman Death in silk and lace, come to put out the candles. The canker in the heart of the rose.
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.