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“And the shower of roses spun around me, inviting me to take part in their ever-present waltz.”
Gina Marinello-Sweeney, The Rose and the Sword“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.”
Tupac Shakur, The Rose That Grew from Concrete“Can anyone remember love? It's like trying to summon up the smell of roses in a cellar. You might see a rose, but never the perfume.”
Arthur Miller“I want to thank my mom, Brenda Rose. My heart, the reason I play the way I play, just everything. Just knowing the days I don't feel right, going to practice, having a hard time, I think about her when she had to wake me up, go to work and make sure I was all right. Those were hard days.”
Derrick Rose“One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.”
Dale Carnegie“There is a rose in every heart. Enlightenment is recognizing that rose.”
Amit Ray, Enlightenment Step by Step“ROSE DAY POEM:Rose.. if it is..for the one whom you miss..and you want to say a lot..till now that you have not!-Then just go and dare to say..for that moment is today..beyond the earth and sky above..Give it to the one whom you love!!-And sing your heart out..to the universe aloud..-O girl, O girl, O.. O.. girl.. you be mine..You are more than this rose to me..You be my.. Valentine.Just be mine.. O O.. Valentine!!!”
Vikrmn, Guru with Guitar“Later, you told me what your mother had said. How your father, the farmer, rose up slowly. You told me how your mother wailed on the other end of the phone, grieving her loss and complaining about the basketball of a goitre perched on her shoulder. She told you, your father walked onto the veranda and saw a chook floating ten feet above the ground. The chook didn’t flap a feather and just sat there brooding, swaying in the breeze.”
Jon Gresham, We Rose Up Slowly