Quotes & Sayings About A Rose Bud

The rose," he announced. "Loveliest and most formidable of flowers. Arms of York and Lancaster. In medieval times, a symbol of Jesus. Always, it has meant, beauty, love, peace ..."
He presented the bud to Martha Macnamara. It lay resting on his long fingers until she scooped it up. She sniffed it and held it up to the light.
"Symbol? What's a symbol? This is a rose." She smiled and walked on,. — R.A. MacAvoy

And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose, And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows ... — Rudyard Kipling

Lust is the source of all our actions, and humanity. — Blaise Pascal

To set up as a standard of public morality a notion which can neither be defined nor conceived is to open the door to every kind of tyranny. — Simone Weil

The whiles some one did chaunt this louely lay;
Ah see, who so faire thing doest faine to see,
In springing flowre the image of thy day;
Ah see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee
Doth first peepe forth with bashfull modestee,
That fairer seemes, the lesse ye see her may;
Lo see soone after, how more bold and free
Her bared bosome she doth broad display;
Loe see soone after, how she fades, and falles away.

So passeth, in the passing of a day,
Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre,
Ne more doth flourish after first decay,
That earst was sought to decke both bed and bowre,
Of many a Ladie, and many a Paramowre:
Gather therefore the Rose, whilest yet is prime,
For soone comes age, that will her pride deflowre:
Gather the Rose of love, whilest yet is time,
Whilest louing thou mayst loued be with equall crime. — Edmund Spenser

The Holy Ghost unveils God's Word to us; He reveals the things of God to us. — Chris Oyakhilome

You may not get everything you dream about, but you will never get anything you don't dream about. — William James

There can be no barrenness in full summer. The very sand will yield something. Rocks will have mosses, and every rift will have its wind-flower, and every crevice a leaf; while from the fertile soil will be reared a gorgeous troop of growths, that will carry their life in ten thousand forms, but all with praise to God. And so it is when the soul knows its summer. Love redeems its weakness, clothes its barrenness, enriches its poverty, and makes its very desert to bud and blossom as the rose. — Henry Ward Beecher

Before man's fall the rose was born,St. Ambrose says, without the thorn;But for man's fault then was the thornWithout the fragrant rose-bud born; But ne'er the rose without the thorn. — Robert Herrick

For some reason, her words snapped the zip-tie that had been holding his secret. She'd just given him permission to be flawed. — Tammy L. Gray

Man is timid and apologetic; he is no longer upright; he dares not say "I think," "I am," but quotes some saint or sage. He is ashamed before the blade of grass or the blowing rose. These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less. Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Rue not my death. Rejoice at my repose, It was no death to me but to my woes. The bud was opened to let out the rose. The chain was loosed to let the captive go." - ROBERT SOUTHWELL ON MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS — J.T. Ellison

Geometry enlightens the intellect and sets one's mind right. All of its proofs are very clear and orderly. It is hardly possible for errors to enter into geometrical reasoning, because it is well arranged and orderly. Thus, the mind that constantly applies itself to geometry is not likely to fall into error. In this convenient way, the person who knows geometry acquires intelligence. — Ibn Khaldun

Feelings I had for him had emerged suddenly, like the tight bud of a rose that blossoms magically overnight into a glorious colour. — Lucinda Riley

The daisy is fair, the day-lily rare, The bud o' the rose as sweet as it's bonnie. — James Hogg

By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom. — Omar Khayyam

When I did have a little bit of commercial success, it really didn't suit my temperament at all. I'm a terrible public person. — Juliana Hatfield

While rose-buds scarcely show'd their hue, But coyly linger'd on the thorn. — James Montgomery

Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain,
As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again — John Keats

The best way of killing a rose is to force it open when it is still only the promise of a bud. — Jose Saramago

Still more labyrinthine buds the rose. — Robert Browning

I watched a rose-bud very long
Brought on by dew and sun and shower,
Waiting to see the perfect flower:
Then when I thought it should be strong
It opened at the matin hour
And fell at even-song. — Christina Rossetti

You're beautiful." Blake said hello as he'd said goodbye.
"You said that already," Livia mouthed over the banging music.
Blake just shrugged. He flashed Livia a shy smile and held out the pink napkin to her. He'd turned it into a beautiful, perfect rose bud with a single leaf. Livia took the rose from his hand and turned it over carefully. He'd pinched tiny thorns into the paper stem. Livia put it to her nose as if to smell it. She realized he was waiting.
"You're beautiful," Livia mouthed. She would have hugged the rose if it weren't so delicate. She hugged him instead.
With her ear so close, Blake was able to murmur into it. "May I have this dance? — Debra Anastasia

I heard a fella say once he'd rather have a rose bud when he was alive than to have a whole rose garden thrown his way after he is gone. It looks like they've (the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1935) thrown the roses my way while I'm still here. — Home Run Baker

If we cut open the bud of a beautiful rose in order to see how it is 'packed' and what it is going to look like, what sort of a bloom will we get? — Ian Gardner

The bud of a rose grows in darkness. It knows nothing of the sun, yet it pushes at the darkness that confines it until at last the walls give way and the rose bursts forth, spreading its petals into the light. I love him. — Donna Woolfolk Cross

Bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters. Give ye a sweet odor as frankincense. Send forth flowers, as the lily ... and bring forth leaves in grace, and praise with canticles, and bless the Lord in his works. - Ecclesiasticus 39:17-19 — Douai-Rheims Bible

The problem of culture is seldom grasped correctly. The goal of a culture is not the greatest possible happiness of a people, noris it the unhindered development of all their talents; instead, culture shows itself in the correct proportion of these developments. Its aim points beyond earthly happiness: the production of great works is the aim of culture. — Friedrich Nietzsche

What men do not know about they take for granted. Knowledge furnishes problems, and the discovery of problems itself constitutes an intellectual advance. — Henry Hazlitt

And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring,
And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing briar,
And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire
Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring. — Oscar Wilde

There's a reason you can learn from everything: you have basic wisdom, basic intelligence, and basic goodness. — Pema Chodron

Because while she's so pre-occupied reading ... I'm so pre-occupied reading her. — Jay McLean

You talk about making this article cheaper by reducing its price in the market from 8 d. to 6 d. But suppose, in so doing, you have rendered your country weaker against a foreign foe; suppose you have demoralized thousands of your fellow-countrymen, and have sown discontent between one class of society and another, your article is tolerably dear, I take it, after all. — Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Each one of us has it in themselves to be a free spirit, just as every rose bud has in it a rose. — Rudolf Steiner

Like a rose bud, my heart always desires to bloom and spread the fragrance of love, beauty, and kindness of mankind. — Debasish Mridha

All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns. — Oscar Wilde

Again, the filet bows to the lily.
Again, the rose is tearing off her gown ...
The bud is shy, but the wind removes
her veil suddenly, 'My friend!' ...
And the cove to the willow, 'You are the one I hope for ... "
The ringdove comes asking, 'Where,
where is the Friend?" ...
Again, the season of Spring has come
And a spring-source rises under everything,
A moon sliding from the shadows.
Many things must be left unsaid because it's late, but whatever conversation we haven't had tonight, we'll have tomorrow. — Rumi

Yon rose-buds in the morning-dew, How pure amang the leaves sae green! — Robert Burns

The creative principle [of science] resides in mathematics. — Albert Einstein

Now, anyone with two thoughts in their mind can see that no future is set in stone. An infinite number of futures bud at the end of every moment, and each one of them can be changed by a falling rose petal. — Robin Hobb

It was loud and crazy, and sometimes someone got shot with a stray poisoned arrow, but it was never boring. — Anonymous

I seek a form that my style cannot discover,a bud of thought that wants to be a rose. — Ruben Dario

High up on the branches, like so many of those tiny rose-trees, their pots concealed in jackets of paper lace, whose slender stems rise in a forest from the altar on the greater festivals, a thousand buds were swelling and opening, paler in colour, but each disclosing as it burst, as at the bottom of a cup of pink marble, its blood-red stain, and suggesting even more strongly than the full-blown flowers the special, irresistible quality of the hawthorn-tree, which, wherever it budded, wherever it was about to blossom, could bud and blossom in pink flowers alone. Taking — Marcel Proust