Rose Milk Quotes & Sayings

We may not have the power to move mountains, but if we have the power to take someone's hand and named them loved and forgiven we have power enough. — Dianne Astle

The McCain-Feingold limit on how much you give a candidate didn't really work because people found ways to get around it. — Foster Friess

Increasingly, the world around us looks as if we hated it. — Alan Watts

I didn't find my story; it found me, as autobiography always does: finds you out in your deepest most private places. — Kelly Cherry

I am Kian."
"Mercy " she replied. Swallowing hard she forced her gaze away from him. She was being too bold in her perusal but she could not stop looking at
him.
"Kindness " he whispered. Their eyes locked and Mercy felt a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation pierce her. "I could use some of you"
he said thoughtfully as his cool gaze devoured her. "Most definitely I could use you."
He rose and walked around the pond perusing her body as he came to stand beside her. "The milk of human kindness how sweet the taste."
He actually licked his lips and Mercy shivered her core heating and wetting. Then he lowered himself until they were eye to eye.
"I believe I could drink you dry. — Charlotte Featherstone

Quotes? you want quotes?
To sound important, quote yourself — LeTony Quas Marrazo

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

I love eating it - grilled chicken, pasta, rice, and other foods that give me long term energy. Every once in a while, my sweet tooth gets the best of me and I have to snack on some candy. Beverage wise, I stick to sports drinks, water, milk, and juice. — Derrick Rose

Seven Layer Cookie Bars This is a recipe that my best friend Rose's Mom used to make as a treat. It's an oldie but goodie. Ingredients 1/2 cup unsalted butter 2 cups Graham crackers 1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk 6 ounces butterscotch chips 6 ounces chocolate chips 3 1/2 ounces flaked coconut 1 cup chopped pecans — Lori Burke

Aubade"

I know my leaving in the breakfast table mess.
Bowl spills into bowl: milk and bran, bread crust
crumbled. You push me back into bed.

More "honey" and "baby."
Breath you tell my ear circles inside me,
curls a damp wind and runs the circuit
of my limbs. I interrogate the air,

smell Murphy's Oil Soap, dog kibble.
No rose. No patchouli swelter. And your mouth -
sesame, olive. The nudge of your tongue
behind my top teeth.

To entirely finish is water entering water.
Which is the cup I take away?

More turning me. Less your arms reaching
around my back. You ask my ear
where I have been and my body answers,
all over kingdom come. — Amber Flora Thomas

One morning, I woke to find Chiron gone. This was not unusual. He often rose before we did, to milk the goats or pick fruits for breakfast. I left the cave so that Achilles — Madeline Miller

Quite a few soldiers . . . had ended up spending some time wrapped around each other, alone in the night. Most often, it was just for the touch of another person and not in the pursuit of an entangling relationship. In fact, when it happened there was usually an unspoken covenant which existed between soldiers to just forget whatever had happened and move on, as many preferred not to talk about how you secretly needed to curl up in basically the fetal position, tucked away with another psychologically damaged human, deep in the bowels of your tin-can refuge from the deep black, just to get through another week of it all. — Robert Lee Wolfe

From the pit of his stomach a violent spasm of nausea rose up and seized his throat. He ran to the bathroom, barely able to stand, knelt down in front of the toilet and started to vomit. He vomited the whiskey he'd just drunk, vomited what he'd eaten that day as well as what he'd eaten the day before, and the day before that, and he felt, with his sweaty head now entirely inside the toilet bowl and a sharp pain in his side, as if he were endlessly vomiting up the entire time of his life on earth, going all the way back to the pap he was given as a baby, and when, at last, he'd expelled his own mother's milk, he kept vomiting poison bitterness, bile, pure hatred. — Andrea Camilleri

My mother's dress bears the stains of her life:
blueberries, blood, bleach,
and breast milk;
She cradles in her arms a lifetime
of love and sorrow;
Its brilliance nearly blinds me. — Brenda Sutton Rose

What is a sigh? That would be another good subject for a field study. Is it just a long, deep, audible exhalation of breath? Rose's sigh was intense but not subdued. It was frustrated but not yet sad. A sigh resets the respiratory system so it was possible that my mother had been holding her breath, which suggests she was more nervous than she appeared to be. A sigh is an emotional response to being set a difficult task. — Deborah Levy

Later when I thought of the chickens, one of those rare pale blue eggs rose up into my throat. The chickens had been part of our family, and the egg in my throat was the feeling of something missing. It was hard and smooth and heavy, but also so fragile it might break and make me cry. It was the feeling of growing out of a favorite shirt, milk spilled on the floor, the last bit of honey in the jar, falling apple blossoms. It was the lump in the throat behind everything beautiful in life. — Melissa Coleman

Dorey says the key to chowder is letting the ingredients cure in the pot for a day before dishing it up, which is counterintuitive since fried clams are best right after they're dug. Personally, I think it's the chives in the chowder." Pensive, she studied her empty bowl. "Or the bacon. Or the parsley." Her eyes rose. "Maybe it's just the butter. Since Dorey's chowder is Maine style, more milk than cream, the butter shines. — Barbara Delinsky

Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose.
For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed. — William Shakespeare

The wood echoed to the hoarse ringing of other saws; somewhere, very far away, a nightingale was trying out its voice, and at longer intervals a blackbird whistled as if blowing dust out of a flute. Even the engine steam rose into the sky warbling like milk boiling up on a nursery alchohol stove. — Boris Pasternak

I had bad skin as a teenager, and I spent all my money on facials and laser treatments and creams and cleansers and serums and all that. I wake up in the morning, and I'll cleanse with Cetaphil or a rose milk cleanser from Whole Foods. Then I use serum called DNA repair serum, and it's made by Raj Kanodia. — Sara Foster

The Kitchen





Half a papaya and a palmful of sesame oil;
lately, your husband's mind has been elsewhere.

Honeyed dates, goat's milk;
you want to quiet the bloating of salt.

Coconut and ghee butter;
he kisses the back of your neck at the stove.

Cayenne and roasted pine nuts;
you offer him the hollow of your throat.

Saffron and rosemary;
you don't ask him her name.

Vine leaves and olives;
you let him lift you by the waist.

Cinnamon and tamarind;
lay you down on the kitchen counter.

Almonds soaked in rose water;
your husband is hungry.

Sweet mangoes and sugared lemon;
he had forgotten the way you taste.

Sour dough and cumin;
but she cannot make him eat, like you. — Warsan Shire

A lover has four streams inside, of water, wine, honey, and milk. Find those in yourself, and pay no attention what so-and-so says about such-and-such. The rose does not care if someone calls it a thorn, or a jasmine. Ordinary eyes categorize human beings, That one is a Zoroastrian. This one, Muslim. Walk instead with the other vision given you, your first eyes. — Jalaluddin Rumi

I'm not stupid, nor a liar," I said, "and if I can't do any good, I can at least do something — Naomi Novik

American Wedding

In america,
I place my ring
on your cock
where it belongs.
No horsemen
bearing terror,
no soldiers of doom
will swoop in
and sweep us apart.
They're too busy
looting the land
to watch us.
They don't know
we need each other
critically.
They expect us to call in sick,
watch television all night,
die by our own hands.
They don't know
we are becoming powerful.
Every time we kiss
we confirm the new world coming.

What the rose whispers
before blooming
I vow to you.
I give you my heart,
a safe house.
I give you promises other than
milk, honey, liberty.
I assume you will always
be a free man with a dream.
In america,
place your ring
on my cock
where it belongs.
Long may we live
to free this dream. — Essex Hemphill

Anyone who falls into your hands falls to your sword! — Margaret MacMillan

Mostly, whenever I'm booked to do instruction, I just play a little bit and get people to ask questions. We'll play some music for 'em, 'til somebody hollers out, 'Play 'Milk Cow Blues' or 'Play 'San Antonio Rose.' We play requests and demonstrate our music. — Johnny Gimble

I think that all creative people are a little bit nuts ... — Dolly Parton

I could set from memory a replica of the perfect Still Life she laid out on the table each morning: the carefully folded Advertiser, the two canary yellow hemispheres of grapefruit in their bowls, separated by a more richly yellowed cube of butter; the sky blue milk-jug and matching sugar bowl filled to the brim with their differently textured whitenesses; the pot of tea snug in its knitted navy blue cosy, the steam that rose invisibly from its spout suddenly rendered visible, swirling, where it entered the slanting morning light. — Peter Goldsworthy

Sophia and Grandmother sat down by the shore to discuss the matter further. It was a pretty day, and the sea was running a long, windless swell. It was on days just like this
dog days
that boats went sailing off all by themselves. Large, alien objects made their way in from sea, certain things sank and others rose, milk soured, and dragonflies danced in desperation. Lizards were not afraid. When the moon came up, red spiders mated on uninhabited skerries, where the rock became an unbroken carpet of tiny, ecstatic spiders. — Tove Jansson