“... the best way of killing a rose is to force it open when it is still only the promise of a bud.”

“The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of grief has drained me clean; Still it seems a pity No one saw,—it must have been Very pretty.”

“The bud of a rose grows in darkness. It knows nothing of the sun, yet it pushes at the darkness that confines it until at last the walls give way and the rose bursts forth, spreading its petals into the light. I love him.”

“When they come and the guns are thundering and the men are falling all around you, there is only one way you will stop it. You are going to have to kill. So you be the best goddamned killer there is.”

“You kill me, Rose. Everyday is agony without you.Empty. Alone. I pine for you, wondering if you're even still alive. -Adrian to Rose”

“Very old are the woods;And the buds that breakOut of the brier's boughs,When March winds wake,So old with their beauty are--Oh, no man knowsThrough what wild centuriesRoves back the rose.”