I named all my children after flowers. There's Lillie and Rose and my son, Artificial.

Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.

He hesitated for a moment. Then he said softly, "I love you, Mother." He took my hand and kissed it, and folded my fingers round the stem of the rose. He had stripped it of its thorns.

If you want to say it with flowers, a single rose says: "I'm cheap

I'd like an omelet named after me.

Any nose
May ravage with impunity a rose.