For millions of years flowers have been producing thorns. For millions of years sheep have been eating them all the same. And it's not serious, trying to understand why flowers go to such trouble to produce thorns that are good for nothing? It's not important, the war between the sheep and the flowers? It's no more serious and more important than the numbers that fat red gentleman is adding up? Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, without even realizing what he'd doing - that isn't important? If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself 'My flower's up there somewhere...' But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn't important?

— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Live in Thorns but always enchant the hearts with your fragrance.

— Alok Jagawat

Life is uncertain.Today you get a rose.Tomorrow you feel the thorns.But the end result is red, always!!

— Shillpi S Banerrji

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses.

— Alphonse Karr

Sculptures created from found materials like ice and thorns, driftwood, and even bleached kangaroo bones all presuppose that artistic design will yield to the cycles of time and climate, whether over an hour or a decade.

— Simon Schama

Tears are not thorns.

— Lailah Gifty Akita

Thorns do not keep a rose from blooming, neither should obstacles keep you from success.

— Matshona Dhliwayo

Saint Melor’s father was Saint Meliau.”“Was everyone in Bertaèyn a saint, back in the day?”“Everyone who didn’t murder anyone, maybe,” Perrotte said.

— Merrie Haskell

One can talk good and shower down roses, but it's the receiver that has to walk through the thorns, and all its false expectations.

— Anthony Liccione

He picked up one of Lorna's roses and set it in my lap. 'Here.' I picked it up and smelled it. He poked me in the shoulder. 'See what I mean? Thorns don't stop you from sniffing. Or putting them in a vase on the kitchen table. You work around them.... Cause the rose is worth it... Think what you'd miss.

— Charles Martin