The Rose is without an explanation; She blooms, because She blooms.
If you enjoy the fragrance of a rose, you must accept the thorns which it bears.
Our eyes reflect light. Better that the lips are more like a rose petal.
Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, and the Baroque is over
She told me there was a place on my face she wanted to inhale.
Love planted a rose, and the world turned sweet.
Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses.
But he that dares not grasp the thorn Should never crave the rose.
Psalm 37:44 Delight thyself also in the LORD: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
Maybe they will only find one another by being somewhere they have never been and maybe none of this has a thing to do with forgiveness but home doesn't always resemble the path.
I don't think much about guys from the past. I'm glad I knew them, but there's a reason they didn't make it into my future.
Because she deserved more than me. She deserved someone who could give her the whole universe.
Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it's dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.
Being vegan is easy. Are there social pressures that encourage you to continue to eat, wear, and use animal products? Of course there are. But in a patriarchal, racist, homophobic, and ableist society, there are social pressures to participate and engage in sexism, racism, homophobia, and ableism. At some point, you have to decide who you are and what matters morally to you. And once you decide that you regard victimizing vulnerable nonhumans is not morally acceptable, it is easy to go and stay vegan
Love fades. Mine has.
Roses and thorns are parts of the same plant. Somehow though, some people are concerned mainly about the roses. The rose is not on the plant for more than a week, but the thorns are there forever.Roses are teaching that the beauty of life will bloom, once you have taught yourself the lessons given by living with the thorns.
A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up towards the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-coloured rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
Rose wasn't 'ordinary'. What was I supposed to do? Wrap her in cotton wool? Tell her 'Here, I could give you the universe, but I'm not going to in case you get hurt? There's all this stuff out there, all these planets, all these wonders, but I want you to stay at home and work in a shop?
Women Are Not RosesWomen have no beginningonly continualflows.Though rivers flowwomen are notrivers.Women are notrosesthey are not oceansor stars.i would like to tellher this buti think shealready knows.
The world is shaped by two things stories told and the memories they leave behind.
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