“I would regard meanings given by others so far as refreshing boon,
I would still be enamored of rose or any heartless flower's smell
if tender tides of your affection had not suffused
the pollen of my heart with loving aroma.”

“I love the fair lilies and roses so gay,
They are rich in their pride and their splendor;
But still more do I love to wander away
To the meadow so sweet,
Where down at my feet,
The harebell blooms modest and tender.”

“In rose with petals soft as air
I bind for you the tides and fire —
the death that lives within the flower,
oh, gladly love, for you I bear.”

“She was sweet as a rose at the dawning,
But somehow fate hadn't meant her for me;
Though I sailed with the tide in the morning,
Still my heart's on the Isle of Capri.”

“Roses are shining in Picardy
In the hush of the silver dew;
Roses are flowering in Picardy
But there's never a rose like you.
And the roses will die with the summer time
And our roads may be far apart,
But there's one rose that dies not in Picardy;
'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart.”

“If I had but an hour of love, if that be all that is given me, an hour of love upon this earth, I would give my love to thee.”

“The rose of all the world is not for me.
I want for my part
Only the little white rose of Scotland
That smells sharp and sweet - and breaks the heart.”

“My mother loved children -- she would have given anything if I had been one.”

“It is not true that a rose by any other name will smell as sweet. Were it true, I should call this story "The Great Orley Farm Case." But who would ask for the ninth number of a serial work burthened with so very uncouth an appellation? Thence, and therefore, — Orley Farm.”

“If I were dead and buried And I heard your voice, Beneath the sod My heart of dust Would still rejoice.”