Best 165 quotes in «orange quotes» category

Today Homeland Security Chief Tom Ridge lowered the terror alert from orange to yellow. Does anybody need 16 miles of duct tape?

Today he wore a burnt-orange shirt, black pants, and a tie that looked like a street fight at the south end of the color wheel.

Vermilion alone could render the brilliant red of the tiles on the opposite slope. The orange of the soil, the harsh crude colors of the walls and greenery, the ultramarine and cobalt of the sky achieved an extreme harmony that was sensually and musically ordered.

Try not thinking of peeling an orange. Try not imagining the juice running down your fingers, the soft inner part of the peel. The smell. Try and you can't. The brain doesn't process negatives.

Ukraine is a vital link for Europe: our energy transportation networks; our location between the European Union and Eurasia. We're the melting pot of Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity. The democracy we founded with the Orange Revolution has to be an example for other post-Soviet states.

We are in a code orange. Homeland Security said earlier today that everyone should have a roll of duct tape and plastic sheeting to protect your house in event of terrorist attacks. Who came up with this idea? MacGyver?

We are beginning to shift into life code. And in the process of shifting into life code, every life form on this planet is coded in a double helix with a sugar phosphate backbone. And that codes whether you become a bacteria, an orange, a lemon, a Lemur, a Cow, a sheep, a human being, a politician, any one of these things is all coded in this four-letter code.

When I think of flavours, I think colour, so lemon should be yellow and orange is orange.

What Carew does with a football, I can do with an orange.

What Zidane can do with a football, Maradona could do with an orange.

We live in the time where we have fictitious election results that elects a fictitious president. We live in a time where we have a man sending us to war for fictitious reasons. Whether it's the fictition of duct tape or fictition of orange alerts we are against this war, Mr. Bush. Shame on you. Mr. Bush, shame on you. And any time you got the Pope and the Dixie Chicks against you, your time is up.

What is a quote? A quote (cognate with quota) is a cut, a section, a slice of someone's orange. You suck the slice, toss the rind, skate away.

Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins?

Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blendingly enter into the other? So with sanity and insanity.

Your mind makes out the orange by seeing it, hearing it, touching it, smelling it, tasting it and thinking about it but without this mind, you call it, the orange would not be seen or heard or smelled or tasted or even mentally noticed, it's actually, that orange, depending on your mind to exist! Don't you see that? By itself it's a no-thing, it's really mental, it's seen only of your mind. In other words it's empty and awake.

You can't compare an apple to an orange. It will cause a lot of self esteem issues.

Who wants an orange whip? Orange whip? Orange whip? Three orange whips.

Years go by Will I still be waiting For somebody else to understand Years go by If I'm stripped of my beauty And the orange clouds Raining in head Years go by Will I choke on my tears Till finally there is nothing left One more casualty You know we're too easy Easy Easy

You just kind of go and do your own thing. Sometimes it's really hard to compare apples and oranges, so you don't really think of it that way. You just perform to your fullest potential and hope everybody else does too. And however it works out, it works out.

You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller.

Chubs didn’t have to finish. I knew what I’d been when I’d found them: a terrified splinter of a girl who had been shattered a long time ago. I had nothing, and no one, and no real place to go. Maybe I was still broken and would always be—but now, at least, I was piecing myself back together, lining up one jagged edge at a time.

All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Cate had told me once, a long time ago, that the only way to survive your past was to find a way to close it off behind you, to shut one door before passing into another, brighter room. I was afraid. That was the truth. I was terrified of the guilt and shame that would come flooding in when I retraced my steps, turned the lock, and found the girl I had abandoned. I didn’t want to know what the darkness there had done to her, if she would even recognize herself in my face.

Come, fly with me!" cried the goddess, as she sped ahead of them, her extremities flaming with a comet tail of sparks in the supernatural wind. Her bubbling voice again echoed, her laughter bounced in the crystalline void, and she flew onward, unto eternity.... "Stop!" cried Elasirr. "Come back with us to the true world, O Tilirreh!" At which the orange one laughed, throwing her head back, saying, "Oh, but don’t you know this is the one true world? It is but yours that is a pale specter, that is the dying place of dwindling truth?" "Then come back with us, lady," whispered Ranhé, "and restore the truth as it once was.

I thought I had escaped the monsters, that I'd left them locked up behind an electric fence. But the shadows were alive, and they had chased me here.

I feel a little dizzy," said Orion. "But also wonderfully elated. I feel that I am on the verge of finding a rhyme for the word orange." "Oxygen deprivation," said Foaly. "Or maybe it's just him.

If you ever cry alone again...or even if the day comes where you just find living to be painful...then I promise I'll save you again and again.

...did you know that in your eyes there are bright flecks of green and orange - and that they are lovely?...

If all you do it "live with it"... then that's not much of a life.

- It's a bit late to say something now... I'll just live with it! - If all you do is «live with it»... then that's not much of a life." (p.50)

It’s different and bold. It stands out amongst a blank world of black, white, and gray. Orange is the early morning sun stretching across the sky and the color of a burning ember standing tall in the middle of a beach bonfire. It’s leaves in the fall, carrots in Nana’s vegetable soup on a cold winter day, tulips in the spring, and the ladybugs in the middle of the grassy park on a hot summer afternoon. Orange is life. It’s unexpected but beautiful.

Never embrace a version of the gospel that doesn't require you to do life with someone who isn't like you.

Maybe it's impossible to live life without any regrets. Even when you know the future... you'll still mess up." (p.163)

Meanwhile the sunsets are mad orange fools raging in the gloom....

No ordinary effort stops the wheel. In sleep it spins without resistance. Passively, falling deeper, lacking the will to activate any change.

«Regrets»... I regret how timid and meek I was back then... always telling myself that I couldn't do anything, never even daring to try. That's definitely something I regret. " (p.330)

Pumpkins. That's what we resemble-- pumpkins, in our orange graduation robes. 'This color makes me look so fat,' Angie says, straightening her cap. 'Why can't our school have decent colors?' 'You're not fat,' Michael says, dressed in shirt and tie. You're glowing. Like a nuclear pumpkin. Very attractive, really.

Now the road was crossing orange groves in flower, and the nuptial scent of the blossoms absorbed the rest as a full moon does a landscape; the smell of sweating horses, the smell of leather from the carriage upholstery, the smell of Prince and the smell of Jesuit, were all cancelled out by that Islamic perfume evoking houris and fleshly joys beyond the grave.

Orange pekoe flavor, with that gold confection dust on the top." She holds one up to demonstrate. "Mascarpone filling." She bites it clean in half and shows me the middle. "Rose jelly in the center." "Sounds good to me. What shall we call it?" "I don't know." I reach over and pick up a macaron, the texture, weight, and balance all perfect. Symmetry, lightness, both shells with excellent feet, wedded together with a smooth filling. Nodding with approval, I place it on my tongue. She is right; the orange and rose flavors melt lustily in your mouth. It's just like Mama- all bright and full of surprises.

Peeling an Orange Between you and a bowl of oranges I lie nude Reading The World’s Illusion through my tears. You reach across me hungry for global fruit, Your bare arm hard, furry and warm on my belly. Your fingers pry the skin of a naval orange Releasing tiny explosions of spicy oil. You place peeled disks of gold in a bizarre pattern On my white body. Rearranging, you bend and bite The disks to release further their eager scent. I say “Stop, you’re tickling,” my eyes still on the page. Aromas of groves arise. Through green leaves Glow the lofty snows. Through red lips Your white teeth close on a translucent segment. Your face over my face eclipses The World’s Illusion. Pulp and juice pass into my mouth from your mouth. We laugh against each other’s lips. I hold my book Behind your head, still reading, still weeping a little. You say “Read on, I’m just an illusion,” rolling Over upon me soothingly, gently unmoving, Smiling greenly through long lashes. And soon I say “Don’t stop. Don’t disillusion me.” Snows melt. The mountain silvers into many a stream. The oranges are golden worlds in a dark dream.

Pour créer un avenir meilleur il existe plusieurs chemins.

The orange of the golden carp appeared at the edge of the pond. . . . We watched in silence at the beauty and grandeur of the great fish. Out of the corners of my eyes I saw Cico hold his hand to his breast as the golden carp glided by. Then with a switch of his powerful tail the golden carp disappeared into the shadowy water under the thicket.

Stolen oranges also have Vitamin C. Likewise, a stolen salmon, too, has omega-3 fatty acids.

The vase was placed upon my desk, and there were orange-blossoms in it—orange-blossoms, in an English winter!

a cloud-congested caul that is alternately red, orange, vermilion, purple. Sometimes the clouds break apart in great, slow rafts, letting through beams of innocent yellow sunlight that are bitterly nostalgic for the summer that has gone by.

To my future self... Thank you... for sending the letter. I wonder if... today's present from Kakeru... reached the «Me» in the future...?" (p.215)

When everybody is planting apples a visionary plants oranges.

What?” The word exploded out of me. “What do you want me to tell you? You want to hear about how they tied us up like animals to bring us into the camp—or, hey! How about that time a PSF once beat in a girl’s skull so badly she actually lost an eye? You want to know what it was like to drink rotten water for an entire summer until new pipes finally came? How I woke up afraid and went to bed in terror every single day for six years? For God’s sake, leave me alone! Why do you always have to dig and dig when you know I don’t want to talk about it?

When an orange tastes like an onion, the knife takes the blame. But it is the one who handed us the knife that should be questioned.

You are actually the worst person I have ever met,” Chubs said. “And people like you are the reason we have middle fingers.