Top 32 Even A White Rose Quotes
#1. The significance of the rose? I thought. Who gives a shit? What's the significance of the white tulips? That was a question worth answering.
John Green
#2. The trip itself was the usual...adulation from all sides, rose petals strewn in my path everywhere I went, silver bells festooning the howdah on my private white elephant...you know the drill. I maintained my customary demeanor or regal calm and enigmatic silence throughout.
Charlotte MacLeod
#3. The snow-white angel alone remains, hovering over Tara Burgess's fresh grave, holding a single black rose in one hand. She does not move, does not even bat an eyelash. Her powdered face stays frozen in sorrow. The increasing rain pulls stray feathers from her wings and pins them to the mud below.
Erin Morgenstern
#4. Suddenly the black torturer laid down the pipes and rose, towering over the writhing white figure.
Robert E. Howard
#5. Tod crossed his arms over his snug white T-shirt, silently giving me the floor. Fortunately, I was prepared.
"Sabine ambushed me in the hall this morning and gave me a lecture on sex."
Tod's brow's rose halfway to his hairline.
"I hope you took notes ...
Rachel Vincent
#6. The girl with the tip-tilted nose, the forget-me-not eyes, the rose red cheeks
and the lily-white neck and shoulders who gave the explanation in a
trembling voice: It's the ghost!
Gaston Leroux
#7. Afar in the southwest was the great shimmering, pearl-like sparkle of an evening star in a sky that was pale golden and ethereal rose over gleaming white spaces and dark glens of spruce
L.M. Montgomery
#8. If Lada was the spiky green weed that sprouted in the midst of a drought-cracked riverbed, Radu was the delicate, sweet rose that wilted in anything less that the perfect conditions.
Kiersten White
#9. His wet white face and miserable eyesBrought nurses to him more than groans and sighs:But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fellHis troubled voice: he did the business well.(First verse of Died of Wounds)
Siegfried Sassoon
#10. She was a rare white rose in a kingdom of thorns, and she wouldn't let anyone stain her petals red.
Alex Johnson
#11. I never get writer's block. My secret ... I have purring cats in surround sound while I write ... best white noise on the planet. R.Rose when asked how she deals with writer's block.
R. Rose
#12. Republicans have become the party of red, white and blue rose colored glasses. By drowning out criticism with USA! USA!, they prevent this country from healing itself where it needs healing, and that is the opposite of Country First.
Bill Maher
#13. I think Oscar Wilde wrote a poem about a robin who loved a white rose. He loved it so much that he pierced his breast and let his heart's blood turn the white rose red. Maybe this sounds very sentimental, but for anybody who has loved a career as much as I've loved mine, there can be no short cuts.
Mary Pickford
#14. Guardian angels of the home - Rose and soft green
Healing angels - Deep sapphire blue
Angels of maternity and birth - Sky blue
Ceremonial angels - White
Angels of music - White
Nature angels - Apple green
Angels of beauty and art - Yellow ...
Geoffrey Hodson
#15. But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison air;
The shard, the pebble, and the flint,
Are what they give us there:
For flowers have been known to heal
A common man's despair.
Oscar Wilde
#16. You're not ugly. Sky, you're
You know when you first came to the reservation, and everyone was like, 'Holy crap, it's a white boy'? My thoughts were more like, 'Holy crap, why can't I stop looking at him?' And it wasn't because you were ugly.
Rose Christo
#17. A rose looks grey at midnight, but the flame is just asleep. And steel is strong because it knows the hammer and white heat.
Johnny Cash
#19. I love cocktails. My specialty drink is a gimlet with a little egg white in it so it gets frothy. I really like rose water - sometimes I'll add it to champagne.
Christina Hendricks
#20. How pale the Princess is! Never have I seen her so pale. She is like the shadow of a white rose in a mirror of silver.
Oscar Wilde
#21. You might be the matched half to me. The white to my black.
Renee Rose
#22. She knows not loves that kissed her She knows not where. Art thou the ghost, my sister, White sister there, Am I the ghost, who knows? My hand, a fallen rose, Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
#23. General Howe turned out some German wild boars and sows in his forests, to the great terror of the neighbourhood; and, at one time, a wild bull or buffalo: but the country rose upon them and destroyed them.
Gilbert White
#24. But the only thing worse than remembering the feel of Rose in his arms, the softness of her black and white feathers, the sound of her voice when she sang quietly to herself, would be forgetting it.
Melissa Grey
#25. I'm not bad (his speed). I'm no Joe Morgan, but I'm pretty good for a white guy.
Pete Rose
#26. The girls had run away, but the bear called to them: 'Snow-white and Rose-red, do not be afraid; wait, I will come with you.' Then they recognized his voice and waited, and when he came up to them suddenly his bearskin fell off, and
Jacob Grimm
#27. The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
John Boyle O'Reilly
#28. The ladies of St. James's! They're painted to the eyes; Their white is stays for ever, Their red it never dies; But Phyllida, my Phillida! Her colour comes and goes; It trembles to a lily,
It wavers to a rose.
Henry Austin Dobson
#29. I am haunted by numberless islands, many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;Soon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!
William Butler Yeats
#30. I always say, the only time you gotta worry about getting booed is when you're wearing a white uniform. And I've never been booed wearing a white uniform.
Pete Rose
#31. Mrs. Stubbs, and she pointed dramatically to the life-size head and shoulders of a burly man with a dead white rose in the buttonhole of his coat that made you think of a curl of cold mutting fat. Just below, in silver
Katherine Mansfield
#32. The music, and the banquet, and the wine
The garlands, the rose odors, and the flowers, The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments
The white arms and the raven hair
the braids, And bracelets; swan-like bosoms, and the necklace, An India in itself, yet dazzling not.
Lord Byron
