Best 3019 quotes in «color quotes» category

You will have to scrutinize the model sharply to find the proportions - how the weight is supported, how each joint is functioning... Look for the color and tone and texture... how the light falls on the figure, especially the face.

(You wouldn't believe how many people will hang up a picture of an electric chair? especially if it matches the color of their curtains.

you wouldn't happen to have a pipe and a bit of tobacco about, would- i heard that! gandalf enjoyed a good pipe! why do you think he's called gandalf the gray? it wasn't for the color of his robes

238. I want you to know, if you ever read this, there was a time when I would rather have had you by my side than any one of these words; I would rather have had you by my side than all the blue in the world. 239. But now you are talking as if love were a consolation. Simone Weil warned otherwise. “Love is not consolation,” she wrote. “It is light.” 240. All right then, let me try to rephrase. When I was alive, I aimed to be a student not of longing but of light.

7. But what kind of love is it, really? Don’t fool yourself and call it sublimity. Admit that you have stood in front of a little pile of powdered ultramarine pigment in a glass cup at a museum and felt a stinging desire. But to do what? Liberate it? Purchase it? Ingest it? . . . You might want to reach out and disturb the pile of pigment, for example, first staining your fingers with it, then staining the world. You might want to dilute it and swim in it, you might want to rouge your nipples with it, you might want to paint a virgin’s robe with it. But still you wouldn’t be accessing the blue of it. Not exactly.

A color that doesn't have a word yet, and I love it.

A fleeting moment can become an eternity. From a past encounter everything may disappear in the dungeon of forgetfulness. A few furtive flashes or innocent twinkles can survive, though. Some immaterial details may remain marked in our memory, forever. A significant look, a salient colour or a unforeseen gesture may abide, indelibly engraved in our mind. ( "Girl in blue" )

Age had drained the color from her eyes the way darkness drains the color from everything

A lie has many colours, while white is the only faithful colour of truth.

All these many-coloured feelings fell... like light on a black surface, producing no change, meeting no return.

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

Al parecer, dibujar un tema percibido requiere principalmente de las funciones visuales perceptivas, no verbales, del hemisferio cerebral derecho, sin intervención del sistema verbal del hemisferio izquierdo. El color y la pintura, por otro lado, requieren esas mismas funciones visuales perceptivas, y además la intervención del hemisferio izquierdo, verbal y secuencial, para obtener los colores mediante mezclas.

A SHADE OF CLASS Benevolence is gift-wrapped in a variety of beautiful skin colors Kamil Ali

And now she stood outside the station with his flowers pressed happily to her breast, in all that red cardigan of hers, making the rest of the world look as if it was made in greyscale.

An hour seldom passed in which she didn’t either sneeze, pick her nose, or wipe a bogie onto her snot-encrusted sleeve. But she had such a lovely colour. That pink glow which comes with the flu used to engulf her like an aura. It suited her. She always looked so damn effervescent.

Anita is small and colourless in her grey trousers, grey knitted cardigan, grey hair and grey skin. But ove notices that her face is slightly red-eyed and swollen. Quickly she wipes her eyes and blinks away the pain. As women of that generation do. As if they stood in the doorway every morning, determinedly driving sorrow out of the house with a broom.

A person's disposition should serve as a narrative of their lives not the pigmentation of their skin.

A rainbow earns its colors in the storm.

***A SMALL THEORY*** People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and its ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.

A man of God would never burn or harm a temple of any kind - regardless of religion. A true man of God would see every temple or divine mansion built to glorify the Creator - as an extension of the temple closest to his home, regardless of its shape, size, or color. A man who truly recognizes and knows God can see God in all things.

Angel pushed the plate of cupcakes towards her guest, who had failed to comment on the colors- which were the colors of the Tanzanian flag- and had so far eaten only one: one of those iced in yellow that, on the flag, represented Tanzania's mineral wealth.

Any other questions?" "Just one," I say. "What color are your eyes?" I want to know what he thinks, how he sees himself - the real Ky - when he dares to look. "Blue," he says sounding surprised, "they've always been blue." "Not to me." "What do they look like to you?" he says puzzled, amused. Not looking at my mouth anymore, looking into my eyes. "Lots of colors," I say. "At first I thought they were brown. Once I thought they were green..." "What are they now?" he asks. He widens his eyes a little, leans closer, lets me look as long and deep as I want. "Well?" "Everything," I tell him, "They're everything.

Anytime that you look up to the clear sky and see colors in it, you should be suspecting that you are looking at a flow of energy through the sky that is causing a gas to glow.

As a kid I understood that people were different colors, but in my head white and black and brown were like types of chocolate. Dad was the white chocolate, mom was the dark chocolate, and I was the milk chocolate. But we were all just chocolate. I didn’t know any of it had anything to do with “race.” I didn't know what race was. My mother never referred to my dad as white or to me as mixed. So when the other kids in Soweto called me "white", even though I was light brown, I just thought that they had their colors mixed up, like they hadn't learned them properly. "Ah, yes, my friend. You've confused aqua with turquoise. I can see how you made that mistake. You're not the first.

As moonlight unto sunlight is that desert sage to other greens.

Before that no one thought of us as colored-foreign maybe, exotic and dark, but not colored.

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the world, but for a moment, then leave. At the edge, where life losses its edginess, and thoughts we will become one, someday. At the edge the sun drops, the ring falls, and senses of raindrops climb upwards to the gray sky.

be colorful but wear your true colors, do not run after the popular choice, the choices are bound to change someday, leaving you with no color of your own.

Beauty is not in the face. Beauty is not in the skin color. Beauty is not the wrinkle-free skin. Beauty is not in the long hair or in the way, how the colorful curls on your head roll upon your neck. Looks don’t define your beauty, looks don’t last. Always remember, beauty is more than skin deep. It is not what you see outside.

be the setting that holds another person up to the light like a precious jewel, letting every facet of who they are sparkle and shine revealing all the colors within their heart...

Black is greenest ever.

Black is my favorite color. It's limitless. It's indefinable. It keeps you guessing. When there's nothing to see, you're forced to imagine. It makes every shape, every person more mysterious because you can't see all the details.

Black is the most essential of all colors. Above all, if I may say so, it draws its excitement and vitality from deep and secret sources of health...One must admire black. Nothing can debauch it.

Color is to the soul what food is to the body.

Brush strokes write poetry harmonized through the cords of an artist's imagination. Color, contrast, simple compassion splattered across paper leaves tainted with the melody of the silent wind. Gasping, grasping, simply glancing at the souls of those who were not blessed with the visionary sight of inspirational artistry.

Colors are vibrating light energies, each “color ray” produces a sound that affects matter.

Color breathes life into my soul.

Color is like sex. It's mysterious. It's unknowable. It never looks the same twice. No two people see the same thing. No two people feel the same thing. I once went to china on a cruise ship. Eight hundred of us got off the ship wearing white, because it feels festive and shippy and says "I'm on a cruise." In China white is the color of mourning. We looked insane.

Color is the melody of light.

Color is simply energy, energy made visible. Colors stimulate or inhibit the functioning of different parts of our body. Treatment with the appropriate color can restore balance and normal functioning.

But rock, of course, is many colors. The distinction is subtle, but it is not just one plain grey, that I can promise...I spent five hours one afternoon just staring at a rock trying to see into its color scheme.

CHILDREN Are Like ANGELS And On Earth, ANGELS Have No Color.... It's The Society To Blame That Teaches Racism, Turning An ANGLE To A Civilized Beast While They Are Growing Up....

Color is a kind of magic. He hopes people who have it understand that, and don't take it for granted.

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.

Contrasts The windows of my poetry are wide open on the boulevards and in the shop windows Shine The precious stones of light Listen to the violins of the limousines and the xylophones of the linotypes The sketcher washes with the hand-towel of the sky All is color spots And the hats of the women passing by are comets in the conflagration of the evening Unity There's no more unity All the clocks now read midnight after being set back ten minutes There's no more time. There's no more money. In the Chamber They are spoiling the marvelous elements of raw material ("Contrasts")

Creation is the vocal chords of God speaking each day through the colors of the sunrise, the vastness of the night sky,the teeming of life in the ocean, the majesty of the mountains.

Decorating is easy when you understand color.

Crime has no color. Crime has no type. Crime has no gender. The reason why crime doesn't end. It is being categorized to certain individuals that people who really commit it, get away with it, right under our noses.

Darker the hell, darker the life...darker the death, darker the fear..." the painter's left-hand fingers where drenched in black color, which he kept on scrolling on white paper until he made a... "Raven...darkest like hell and life...raven darkest like fear and death...raven...nevermore

Dark energy is the absence of love, just as black is the absence of color. The more love, the more colors added to the palette, the more light is achieved.