The Rose grew dark, and he could feel its hatred.

At first he called his new home "Rose", after the many wild roses growing there.

He felt quite certain that the beautiful medicine was to make roses grow.

Outside, through the rear screen I could see my father's roses growing.

People stayed married forever back then, and roses grew by the front door.

White houses stood in the greenery, roses growing over them.

She started back up to try to catch him, but already the upstairs hall was cold, the scent of roses growing.

"The tennis courts where the roses grow," said my husband.

Here, at the edge of the Forgotten, grew wild roses, red as blood.

But Rose stuck there, and grew so red, her uncle guessed what that trouble was.