Article Index

When the rose and the cross are united the alchemical marriage is complete and the drama ends. Then we wake from history

and enter eternity.

Robert Anton Wilson


 

In my house, the Rose Parade and the Rose Bowl Game have always been a grand tradition for ringing in the New Year. To
serve as Grand Marshal is a dream come true and I look forward to sharing the celebration with all of the fans and viewers
worldwide.

Paula Deen


I did great things in the theater. I did some nice roles, 'The Diving Bell and the Butterfly' or 'La Vie en Rose.' And I
love my role in 'Frantic.'

Emmanuelle Seigner


The United States encouraged Iraqis to rise up after Saddam Hussein's army was driven out of Kuwait. Washington assumed
Saddam was weak after losing the 1991 Gulf War. Iraqis rose up, but Saddam's troops killed thousands - Iraqis say tens of
thousands - in a counter-offensive.

Richard Engel


I was raised on the brothers Grimm, but my favorite fairy tales in the world are Oscar Wilde's - 'The Nightingale and the
Rose,' 'The Selfish Giant.' The latter is probably my all-time favorite.

Denis O'Hare


I remember walking down the aisle, and I got down on my knees as a person who is so selfish, but when I rose back up the
Lord had become the Master of my life.

Tim Scott


I love cocktails. My specialty drink is a gimlet with a little egg white in it so it gets frothy. I really like rose water
- sometimes I'll add it to champagne.

Christina Hendricks


A rose is the visible result of an infinitude of complicated goings on in the bosom of the earth and in the air above, and
similarly a work of art is the product of strange activities in the human mind.

Clive Bell


Donald had reached its further edge, and could hear the rush of the stream from the deep obscurity of the abyss below, when
there rose from the opposite side a strain of the most delightful music he had ever heard.

Hugh Miller


When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud.
The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery.

Helen Hunt Jackson

 

 

 

 

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