Top 72 Quotes About The White Rose
#1. 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
#2. And soon I'll return to the white rose of Yorkshire, where the sky bathes my soul with a watering can.
Carrie Firestone
#3. [The White Rose] is relevant because it gives us an example that we can use ... They are a sign of how we should strive to be.
Ruth Hanna Sachs
#4. Shut up, you brat," interrupted Geralt, smiling nastily "Halt your uncontrolled little tongue. You speak to a lady who deserves respect, especially from a Knight of the White Rose ...
Andrzej Sapkowski
#5. Life is full of joy and beauty. Look around and notice it. Notice the little butterfly, a little baby with a smile, and the white rose in the garden. Notice a drop of dew on a green leaf in the morning sun. Touch the wind, smell the rain, and feel the joy. Live your life with beauty and joy.
Debasish Mridha
#6. 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
#7. Lirralei was a girl of storm
winds and thorns, the musk of the wild rose and the flight of the falcon.
Rosamund Hodge
#8. Not thou,
White rose, but thy
Ensanguined sister is
The dear companion of my heart's
Shed blood.
Adelaide Crapsey
#9. Pointed firs coming out against the pink sky- and that white orchard and the old Snow Queen. Isn't the breath of the mint delicious? And that tea rose- why, it's a song and a hope and a prayer all in one.
L.M. Montgomery
#10. Whether I'm making a recipe or a piece of jewelry or a white-rose-and-jasmine tea or the perfume, I like to think of myself as a happy little sorceress, and if I could just have a little general store with all that stuff and give people a sense of my taste, that would be lovely.
Padma Lakshmi
#11. White rose in red rose-garden Is not so white; Snowdrops, that plead for pardon And pine for fright Because the hard East blows Over their maiden vows, Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
#12. The beast in man had lifted its mask and the time of euphemistic niceties and rationalizations was over.
Annette Dumbach
#13. The modest Rose puts forth a Thorn.
The humble Sheep a threat'ning Horn.
While the Lily white shall in love delight.
Nor a Thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
William Blake
#14. I knelt by the design. Yes, there was the sun rising. But the white form I had always thought to be a cloud was a bear. I could see it now, upside down. White bear, isbjorn, stood for north. Father had not been able to help himself. The truth was there, too. Truth and lie, side by side.
Edith Pattou
#15. He's not really my man," I protested.
One fuzzy white eyebrow rose over the lens of his glasses. "You were certainly ogling him as if he was.
Katie MacAlister
#16. At the end; highest happiness will be, a white rose, in the garden of your eternal dreams.
Kristian Goldmund Aumann
#17. She plucked a rose and held it to her face. She hated the way roses smelled, their sweetness too fragile. She wanted a garden of evergreens. A garden of stones. A garden of swords.
Kiersten White
#18. I discovered I scream the same way whether I'm about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.
Axl Rose
#19. She wasn't reading Deathly Hallows at all. Her book wasn't orange but rose and water and sand, and featured a kid on a broomstick and white unicorn. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. She didn't notice me staring at her. 'Oh, I envy you,' I thought, but was smiling for her. She had just begun.
Melissa Anelli
#20. A full moon rose in the pale evening sky and glowed with a rich white inner light that brought to mind, but perfectly, the creamy inside of an Oreo cookie. (Eventually on the trail everything reminds you of food.)
Bill Bryson
#21. In the embers shining bright
A garden grows for thy delight,
With roses yellow, red, and white.
But, O my child, beware, beware!
Touch not the roses growing there,
For every rose a thorn doth bear.
Richard Watson Gilder
#22. I remember seeing 'Snow White' and saying to my mother, 'Will there ever be a Chocolate Brown?' She said 'Probably. Why not?' I just never thought the first black princess would be me.
Anika Noni Rose
#23. 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
#24. AUNT SHADIE:
I see you - and don't worry, you're not white.
ROSE:
I'm pretty sure I'm white. I'm English.
AUNT SHADIE:
White is blindness - it has nothing to do with the colour of your skin.
Marie Clements
#25. I like Barack Obama as a person. He's articulate, he knows sports, his brother-in-law's a coach. He always has the athletes to the White House. But I don't know about some of his policies and some of these people in Congress.
Pete Rose
#26. 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
#27. Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose.
For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
William Shakespeare
#28. Above the plains up on the hill there stood a castle bold
A gleaming palace made of white, a pillar to behold
The horsemen lived in service to the castle and the crown
But the knights rose up and killed the kings
And it all burned down.
Ally Carter
#29. Who among us has any conception of the dimensions of shame that will befall us and our children when one day the veil has fallen from our eyes and the most horrible of crimes ... reach the light of day?
Amy Goodman
#30. Northern San Diego. The white stucco walls rose, interrupted by huge windows. The whole structure nearly floated off the pavement, sleek, modern, and somehow light, almost delicate. The salt-spiced wind blowing from the coast less than a mile away only strengthened the illusion. He'd
Ilona Andrews
#31. According to an eastern fable, the rose was white when God created it, but when, as it unfolded, it felt Adam's eyes upon it, it blushed in modesty and turned pink.
Victor Hugo
#32. I support Alice Waters in her desire that there be a vegetable garden at the White House. I don't think they should rip up the Rose Garden, because that's something that I love. They should probably dig up another patch and grow some vegetables there.
Martha Stewart
#33. They journeyed far and the white bear said, "Are you afraid?"
"No," she replied. "I am not afraid.
Edith Pattou
#34. Smoke rose from my hand as it pressed against the white painted door
Rachel Caine
#35. The White House encouraged Tom Brady to be more of a role model. They would've said more, but there was a drunken Secret Service agent streaking across the Rose Garden.
Jimmy Fallon
#36. Ah, Lalage! while life is ours,
Hoard not thy beauty rose and white,
But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers
That deck our little path of light:
For all too soon we twain shall tread
The bitter pastures of the dead:
Estranged, sad spectres of the night.
Ernest Dowson
#37. He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it's the same kind of hunger.
Margaret Atwood
#38. Not everything in life is black and white. Sometimes the best parts are gray. Just remember that not everything can fit into one your neat little boxes.
Alyssa Rose Ivy
#39. I have sat here happy in the gardens, Watching the still pool and the reeds And the dark clouds ... But though I greatly delight In these and the water lilies, That which sets me nighest to weeping Is the rose and white colour of the smooth flag-stones, And the pale yellow grasses Among them.
Richard Aldington
#40. 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
#41. 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
#42. 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
#44. 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
#45. You might be the matched half to me. The white to my black.
Renee Rose
#46. 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
#47. 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
#48. 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
#49. 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
#50. 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
#51. 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
#52. 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
#53. 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
#54. 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
#55. Stuart rose from the ditch, climbed into his car, and started up the road that led toward the north ... As he peeked ahead into the great land that stretched before him, the way seemed long. But the sky was bright, and he somehow felt he was headed in the right direction.
E.B. White
#56. 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
#57. Her voice is full of money, ...
That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money- that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the cymbals' song of it ... High in a white palace the king's daughter, the golden girl ...
F Scott Fitzgerald
#58. 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
#59. 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
#60. 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
#61. 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
#62. 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
#63. 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
#64. 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
#65. 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
#66. Suddenly the black torturer laid down the pipes and rose, towering over the writhing white figure.
Robert E. Howard
#67. They departed in the form of white smoke, rose easily upward, waved their hands in parting, and viewed with pity all those who remained behind. Then they danced gaily in celebration of their new freedom, before disintegrating into the air.
Joseph Bau
#68. The great triumph of the Sixties was to dramatize just how arbitrary and constructed the seeming normality of the Fifties had been. We rose up from our maple-wood twin beds and fell onto the great squishy, heated water bed of the Sixties.
Edmund White
#69. The moon rose in silver splendor into an October sky strewn with pale clouds and brilliant stars. The clouds churned, a white-foam sea, and the moon was a vast, graceful clipper ship, its sails full of spectral light as it ran before the strength of the cold autumn winds.
Jim Butcher
#70. She was white, perhaps too white. Her eyes, which were almost always cast down, when she raised them testified to the purest of souls, and when she smiled, revealing her small, white teeth, one might be tempted to say that a rose is merely a plant, and ivory just an elephant's tusk.
Jose Rizal
#71. Where is it?" I asked, willing him to tell me.
He laughed suddenly, and I could hear the full-throated, grating sound of the white bear's laughter in it.
"East of the sun and west of the moon," he said.
Edith Pattou
#72. Rose of the desert! thou art to me
An emblem of stainless purity,
Of those who, keeping their garments white,
Walk on through life with steps aright.
David Macbeth Moir
