Best 3019 quotes in «color quotes» category

I remember that day very clearly: I had received a phone call. A friend had been in an accident. Perhaps she would not live. She had very little face, and her spine was broken in two places. She had not yet moved; the doctor described her as “a pebble in water.” I walked around Brooklyn and noticed that the faded peri-winkle of the abandoned Mobil gas station on the corner was suddenly blooming. In the baby-shit yellow showers at my gym, where snow sometimes fluttered in through the cracked gated windows, I noticed that the yellow paint was peeling in spots, and a decent, industrial blue was trying to creep in. At the bottom of the swimming pool, I watched the white winter light spangle the cloudy blue and I knew together they made God. When I walked into my friend’s hospital room, her eyes were a piercing, pale blue and the only part of her body that could move. I was scared. So was she. The blue was beating.

Isn't the color of moonlight the best color ever?

It is irrational to assume that you can fault someone because of the color of their skin, no matter what color that may be.

I suspect that it refers to that friend of our childhood, the prince of the old folk tale; the young man who travels for seven miles and comes to seven gates guarded by seven dragons, and passes through all sorts of perils, which are marked at once by moral heroism and mathematical symmetry. It is he who is to be exhibited in as a despot and oppressor; as a despot of elfland and an oppressor of seven-headed dragons. As he is rather a remote as well as a romantic figure, it may be a little difficult for historians to discover what were his true colours. His true colours, so far as I am concerned, are silver and gold and crimson, and all the colours of the rainbow.

I try to grasp the colour of my blood and all I feel is life slipping through the colourless veins.

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.

It's tempting to think of red for sun," she said, "but it has to be just a dash, not much. More of a dark orange and a hint of brown. And then white on yellow on white. Not bright white,' she said. 'The kind of white that makes you squint, but in a softer way...' 'Go look at fire for a while. Go spend some time with fire.' Looking at fire was interesting, I have to admit. I sat with a candle for a couple hours. It has these stages of color: the white, the yellow, the red, the tiny spot of blue I'd heard mentioned but never noticed.

It was so—oh, I wish language were more precise! The red was so beautiful!” The Giver nodded. “It is.” “Do you see it all the time?” “I see all of them. All the colors.” “Will I?

It's useless to paint a closed door, in order to change its color. The door needs to be open for both sides to change as same.

No dejes que la negatividad de otros apague tu alegría. Hay gente que ve el mundo solo en negro, pero tú y yo sabemos que es multicolor.

No one is an outside observer of nature, We're defined by our environment and our interaction with that environment -- by our ecology. And that ecology is necessarily relative, historical and empirical.

Not every sketch needs to be colored in order to be beautiful.

One of my greatest pleasures there was enjoying the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing and knowing that white folks were doing the preparing instead of me. There was swimming in the man-made lake, volleyball, square dancing. It was quite enjoyable to be with at Highlander. We forgot what color anybody was. I was forty-two years old, and it was one of the few times in my life up to that point when I did not feel any hostility from white people.

[Orange] is one of God's favorite colors--- He stuck it right there between red and yellow as the second color in the rainbow. He decorates entire forests with shades of orange every autumn. It shows up in sunrises at the start of the day, sunsets at the end of the day, and in the glow of the moon at the right time of night.

I tried to make my life colorful with Red, Green and Blue....... ohh god... my perfection in blending made it white !!!

It was uncontrollable, overpowered by others, these colors within me, staring out at a black and white world; without spurning about, wanting to rule, too much negligence, they left me no choice, but to surrender. It was time, had to crash the lightning, and bow to the rain, where promises have broken, and pain still reigns. Had to give up myself and bring life to the world, had to. Dye

It was then that she saw the curl. A lovely, shiny curl of hair the color of coral tea roses that wrapped itself around twigs and weeds, and then disappeared beneath an overgrown forsythia. So very Pre-Raphaelite! Beatrice reached to touch the curl, brushing the weeds aside. Nothing could have prepared her for the image of the peacock. Suddenly, there it was: tail-feathers fully unfurled, luminous blues and greens shimmering between blades of grass.

I used to believe in 'em [lines]. I don't anymore. They in our heads. People like Miss Hilly is always trying to make us believe they there. But they ain't." - Aibileen

I've been 40 years discovering that the queen of all colors was black.

I wanted this day, the perfect buttery sun like peach ice cream, the speed, the satin leather of the car seat, the fair. Forbidden fruit, a day like no other.

I will write your name in the ruin of them. I will paint you across history in the color of their blood.

... los colores no pueden comprenderse, se sienten.

Love earns its best colors in the soul.

Love Has No Color.... No Race.... Love Is Pure And Divine But Only A Little of Us Are Able To Preserve It's Purity.... Sadly, In This Digital World, Purity Is Rare To Find In Human....

LOVE IS A FLOWER Treat your relationship As if you are growing The most beautiful sacred flower. Keep watering it, Tend to the roots, And always make sure The petals are full of color And are never curling. Once you neglect your plant, It will die, As will your relationship.

Love yourself as you are! Instead of focusing too much on the outer beauty, one must always choose to value the inner beauty. Your skin and the hair color doesn’t really matter, none of them defines who you truly are!

Ma kept the alcohol for company in the dining room china cabinet. All the sweet after-dinner liqueurs nestle there together. But there is one bottle she never knew about right here in the kitchen. I reach deep into the cabinets and remove Dad's hidden bottle of Lagavulin. I set a tumbler on the counter and pour him two fingers of scotch. 'This is a tumbler, watch it tumble,' he said. The golden brown liquid, more gold than brown, somewhere between weak tea and apple juice. I stare at it. Nothing. Out loud I say, "This is a tumbler, watch it tumble," an incantation or a toast or both, and drink it down. It's like drinking a handful of matches. It burns and then smokes. I fight back a cough. There's a note of something deep and earthy, like beets or truffles, which then vanishes, leaving only a palate seared clean.

My brother William is a fisherman, and he tells me that when he is in the middle of a fogbound sea the water is a color for which there is no name.

My ears hear colors and my eyes see sounds.

My wife is a lovely leathery green, the blue-tongued lizard said; Her eyes are as red as bulldog ants, lurking in holes in her head; Her body is made of the speckled grass, a violet grows on her tongue, And I could watch her for fifty years if nobody blundered along.

None of them knew the color of the sky.

Pale pink salmon is the only color I cannot abide––although, naturally, I adore pink. I love the pale Persion pinks of the little carnations of Provence and Schiaparelli’s pink, the pink of the Incas…And though it’s so vieux jeu I can hardly bear to repeat it––pink is the navy blue of India.

Oh Paris From red to green all the yellow dies away Paris Vancouver Hyeres Maintenon New York and the Antilles The window opens like an orange The beautiful fruit of light ("Windows")

Other than out of a pure curiosity and the aim for veracity, or perhaps for educational purposes, why should it matter to you the color of Jesus? Would you love Him and what He has done for you any more or any less? If so, that would be idolatry.

People add color to their story because they think it happened in black and white.

People are like M&Ms. They come in a variety of colors, they're hard on the outside, and full of obscene yumminess on the inside.

Perhaps, thought Nanny, little green Elphaba chose her own sex, and her own color, and to hell with her parents.

Red hair like yours is unusual in all corners of the world. Other folk have often feared the red-haired as witches, or called them soul-less... But, it's the perfect color for a mage! Red is the color of the Earth itself, and of the fire that burns within it -- and of the blood in our own veins" - Lindel, Ancient Magus Bride, V4

red the colour of the rose red the colour of your lips red the colour of your tongue.... red the colour of your heart...... red the colour of your passion.....

Pink! My color! My love!

Red was ruby, green was fluorescent, yellow was simply incandescent. Color was life. Color was everything. Color, you see, was the universal sign of magic.

Sé diferente. Ser original. Nadie se acordará de una flor específica en el jardín cargado con miles de la misma flor amarilla, pero recordará el que logró cambiar su color a púrpura. Ser diferente y pensar diferente hace que la persona sea inolvidable. La historia no recuerda el olvidable. Honra la minoría única la mayoría no puede olvidar.

She could see all of Ferenwood from here: the rolling hills, the endless explosion of color cascading down and across the lush landscape. Reds and blues: Maroon and ceruleans. Yellow and tangerine and violet and aquamarine. Every hue held a flavor, a heartbeat, a life. She took a deep breath and drew it all in.

She didn't mind the streaks of color I'd left on her fur. Unlike me, she didn't see it as a mess.

She had thought the open sea would be flat, like a mirror or a coin. But it had colors and shapes, turning green or black under approaching storm. Sometimes it was red and purple and silver and white gold. It had sharp hedges. It had its tempers, its blue spells, its fits of laughter

She has no memories of her mother but imagines her as white, a soundless brilliance. Her father radiates a thousand colors, opal, strawberry red, deep russet, wild green; a smell like oil and metal, the feel of a lock tumbler sliding home, the sound of his key rings chiming as he walks.

She was rain to a parched desert She was color to a gray sky She was the beautiful butterfly you longed to possess But I let her fly For fear of breaking her wings!

She was rain to a parched desert She was color to a gray sky She was the butterfly you longed to possess But I let her fly For fear of breaking her delicate wings!

She wore black, the color of nuns and witches, the color of the loneliest corners of outer space, where gravity prevents all light from escaping, the name given to boxes tucked into airplanes, the ones that explain the disaster.

Rainbow your day!