Rose Petals Quotes

“From the day I met her, life has not stayed the same. It feels as if the air crackles each time when I see her. And when she smiles at me, I feel as if the clouds are showering rose petals on her and me. And when she comes closer to me then my heart bursts inside my chest with a plethora of unknown emotions and feelings.”
― Avijeet Das

“When Evie awakened alone in the large bed, the first thing she beheld was a scattering of pale pink splashes over the snowy white linens, as if someone had spilled blush-colored wine in bed. Blinking sleepily, she propped herself up on one elbow and touched one of the pink dabs with a single fingertip. It was a creamy pink rose petal, pulled free of a blossom and gently dropped to the sheet. Gazing around her, she discovered that rose petals had been sprinkled over her in a light rain. A smile curved her lips, and she lay back into the fragrant bed.
The night of heady sensuality seemed to have been part of some prolonged erotic dream. She could hardly believe the things she had allowed Sebastian to do, the intimacies that she had never imagined were possible. And in the drowsy aftermath of their passion, he had cradled her against his chest and they had talked for what seemed to be hours. She had even told him the story of the night when she and Annabelle and the Bowman sisters had become friends, sitting in a row of chairs at a ball. "We made up a list of potential suitors and wrote it on our empty dance cards," Evie had told him. "Lord Westcliff was at the top of the list, of course. But you were at the bottom, because you were obviously not the marrying kind."
Sebastian had laughed huskily, tangling his bare legs intimately with hers. "I was waiting for you to ask me."
"You never spared me a glance," Evie had replied wryly. "You weren't the sort of man to dance with wallflowers."
Sebastian had smoothed her hair, and was silent for a moment. "No, I wasn't," he had admitted. "I was a fool not to have noticed you. If I had bothered to spend just five minutes in your company, you'd never have escaped me." He had proceeded to seduce her as if she were still a virginal wallflower, coaxing her to let him make love to her by slow degrees, until he was finally sheathed in her trembling body.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter

“Look at her, she is made of rose petals, the world will take good care of her.”
― Anna Godbersen, Splendor

“Direktör Benschop is a semi-double milky-white rose with egg-yolk-yellow stamens bred by German breeder Mateus Tantau in 1939, though not commercially available till after the war. The garden is also home to Alchymist, the crumpled honey, white and gold climber.
I have always struggled with the notion of stripping a rose for its petals, though I do occasionally bring one into the kitchen in June, scattering them over an oval platter of raspberries, a sponge cake dusted with icing sugar or, most memorably, a vast fig meringue the size of a hat at a June wedding.”
― Nigel Slater, A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts

“Rose fondants, made with Turkish rosewater; coated in 70 per cent couverture chocolate from hand-sorted Porcelana beans. I remove the embryo myself in order to limit the bitterness. Eighty-five hours conching; then tempered on marble, my favorite way, then dip the fondant, leave to set and add a crystallized rose petal on top. The result smells like roses; chocolate-red; full-throated; the petals like the bloom of a grape.”
― Joanne Harris, Vianne