“I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng, Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind; But I was desolate and sick of an old passion, Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:”
“Now that all the beauty of my old life is gone, I crave it like good. A beautiful thing like this rose: I almost want to eat it, to swallow it whole to replace the beauty I've lost.”
“a long lost friend gone in the wind, gone for all eternity, a long lost friend”
“People complain because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses because I have finally learned not to pick them the next time around.”
“Hic Rhodus, hic salta!Here is the rose, here dance!”
“Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,Are heaped for the beloved's bed;And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,Love itself shall slumber on.”