“I like roses best. But they bloom in all four seasons. I wonder if people who like roses best have to die four times over again.”

“Today, while Mother was watching me work, she suddenly remarked, “They say that people who like summer flowers die in the summer. I wonder if it’s true.” I did not answer but went on watering the eggplants. It is already the beginning of summer. She continued softly, “I am very fond of hibiscus, but we haven’t a single one in this garden.”“We have plenty of oleanders,” I answered in an intentionally sharp tone.“I don’t like them. I like almost all summer flowers, but oleanders are too loud.”“I like roses best. But they bloom in all four seasons. I wonder if people who like roses best have to die four times over again.”We both laughed.”

“I like to think of people as roses, as they grow older, they slowly and unwillingly start giving up on life, even though they want it. I like to think of people as roses, because I think that they don’t know how lovely they could be sometimes. And that they’re meant to die, but they do their best to give pleasure to others’ eyes and hearts.”

“I intend to study love as well as medicine, for it is one of the most mysterious and remarkable diseases that afflict mankind, and the best way to understand it is to have it. I may catch it someday, and then I should like to know how to treat and cure it.- Mac (Rose In Bloom)”

“Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?”

“I wonder if heaven's like that – if you get to choose the best moments of your life and just relive them over and over again. I hope so.”