Pink Rose Love Quotes & Sayings

I love people who play guitars on roofs!" said Rose, hopping along the pavement in one of her sudden happy moods. "Don't you?"
"Never knew anyone else who did it!"
"Don't you like Tom?"
"Of course I do. But I don't know about all the other guitar-on-roof players! They might be really awful people, with just that one good thing about them. Playing guitars on roofs ... or bagpipes ... Or drums ... Sarah would like that, and Saffy could have the bagpipes! Caddy could have a harp ... What about Mum?"
"One of those gourds filled with beans!" said Rose at once. "And Daddy could have a grand piano. On a flat roof. With a balcony and pink flowers in pots around the edge! And I'll have a very loud trumpet! What about you?"
"I'll just listen," said Indigo. — Hilary McKay

Loving for beauty is like vowing a lifetime commitment to a rose. No-matter how sweet-scented or pink "petald", every rose withers. — Moffat Machingura

She found just the material she wanted in the Bijenkorf - rose pink chiffon and a matching silk to line it, both at sale price too, although even then their purchase made a great hole in her purse. But she was feeling reckless by now; drunk with the prospect of spending an evening in the same company as the professor, she purchased some silver slippers and a handbag -and walked back happily clutching her purchases, and after getting the lunch for her patient and herself and settling her for a nap, went to see Juffrouw Blik. — Betty Neels

Pink,
You are gentle and sweet just like this rose. When your rose pink lips smiled at me that first time I remembered how to smile.
~Riley — Ottilie Weber

Somewhere in the arrangement of this world there seems to be a great concern about giving us delight, which shows that, in the universe, over and above the meaning of matter and forces, there is a message conveyed through the magic touch of personality ... Is it merely because the rose is round and pink that it gives me more satisfaction than the gold which could buy me the necessities of life, or any number of slaves ... Somehow we feel that through a rose the language of love reached our hearts. — Rabindranath Tagore

She had been crying after a routine row with her mother and, as had happened on former occasions, had not wished me to see her swollen eyes: she had one of those tender complexions that after a good cry get all blurred and inflamed, and morbidly alluring. I regretted keenly her mistake about my private aesthetics, for I simply love that tinge of Botticellian pink [3], that raw rose about the lips, those wet, matted eyelashes; and, naturally, her bashful whim deprived me of many opportunities of specious consolation. — Vladimir Nabokov

Shocked?" Juliet queried, the light pink tint on her cheeks the only telling sign of her discomfort with the conversation.
He nodded. "Yes. I had no idea my little girl knew what fluffies were."
Juliet opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by more misguided innocence from Kate. "They're the fluffy things Juliet keeps hidden in her dress here and here," she said proudly, tapping her chest to indicate just where these fluffy objects were located.
Patrick blinked. "That's quite enough, Katie love. Why don't you go paint some flowers or something. I need to have a word alone with Juliet. — Rose Gordon

I know not which I love the most, Nor which the comeliest shows, The timid, bashful violet Or the royal-hearted rose: The pansy in purple dress, The pink with cheek of red, Or the faint, fair heliotrope, who hangs, Like a bashful maid her head. — Phoebe Cary

Under the twinkling trees was a table covered with Guatemalan fabric, roses in juice jars, wax rose candles from Tijuana and plates of food - Weetzie's Vegetable Love-Rice, My Secret Agent Lover Man's guacamole, Dirk's homemade pizza, Duck's fig and berry salad and Surfer Surprise Protein Punch, Brandy-Lynn's pink macaroni, Coyote's cornmeal cakes, Ping's mushu plum crepes and Valentine's Jamaican plantain pie. Witch Baby's stomach growled but she didn't leave her hiding place. Instead, she listened to the reggae, surf, soul and salsa, tugged at the snarl balls in her hair and snapped pictures of all the couples. — Francesca Lia Block

My hope is that the white and the black will be united in perfect love and fellowship, with complete unity and brotherhood. Associate with each other, think of each other, and be like a rose garden. Anyone who goes into a rose garden will see various roses, white, pink, yellow, red, all growing together and replete with adornment. Each one accentuates the beauty of the other. Were all of one color, the garden would be monotonous to the eye. If they were all white or yellow or red, the garden would lack variety and attractiveness; but when the colors are varied, white, pink, yellow, red, there will be the greatest beauty. — Abdu'l- Baha

Lucy happily settled down to work. First she sent for papyrus and handmade a book leaf by leaf, binding the leaves together between board covers. Then she filled each page from memory, drew English roses budding and Chinese roses in full bloom, peppercorn-pink Bourbon roses climbing walls and silvery musk roses drowsing in flowerbeds. She took every rose she'd ever seen, made them as lifelike as she could (where she shaded each petal the rough paper turned silken), and in these lasting forms she offered them to Safiye. — Helen Oyeyemi

Hurting someone will not impress them. Intelligence requires empathy to work. Water is wet. The sky is pink through these rose-tinted glasses. — F.K. Preston