Best 3019 quotes in «color quotes» category

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

Pink! My color! My love!

Rainbow your day!

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.....

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.

Ruth loved color so much she rarely wore any. Except on her face.

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.

Saffy ran her fingertips lightly down the sides of the silk skirt. The color really was exquisite. A lustrous almost-pink, like the underside of the wild mushrooms that grew by the mill, the sort of color a careless glance might mistake for cream, but which rewarded close attention.

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 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 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 had a pretty good idea what Tony was seeking. He couldn't look at her without seeing her mother, and father, and brother. He needed to know for certain that she would never share their point of view, one which saw nothing beyond the color of his skin. Janet wanted to abolish his doubts but could not, for the simple reason that she did see Tony's color. The genesis of their love was physical attraction, and his complexion had lured her the same as hers undoubtedly pulled him. It was not his blackness that she fell in love with, but it was a part of him, and therefore, a part of what she loved.

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 is not so afraid at night because she is the color of it.

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 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 knew then that white was more than a color: It was a cold, pale shade of understanding that seems to take all of your hope away.

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.

Siempre juzgo a un hombre por el color de su corazón y sólo su corazón. La verdad se puede encontrar en su registro de acciones, no de intenciones.

Sound is the one true vocabulary of nature and not the peacock-palette painters swear he uses for his best stuff, for his daily disposable frescoes ["Sound," Poetry, September 2015].

So I'm gonna write it down to scream it out, and I'm never gonna be the same again. Fear is the color you've all exposed, now I gotta get up here and prove the importance of my clothes of my pose. I suppose, again.

Some colors exist in dreams that are not present in the waking spectrum.

Soul does not demand colors, it needs presence.

So–in short–color is consciousness itself, color is feeling, and shape is the distance color goes securely, as in our life we extend ourselves through neighborhoods and hunting grounds; while form in its turn is the relation of these inhabited spaces, in or out or up or down, and thrives on the difference between kitchen and pantry. This difference, with all its sameness, is yet another quality, alive in time like the stickiness of honey or the gently rough lap of a cat, for color is connection.

Sometimes all colors of happiness fades away, sometimes sadness finds it's own colors.

So yes, black mages often can be evil. But black as a color is not inherently evil. Being influenced by black’s philosophies does not necessarily mean that one will commit an evil act. That being the case, we cannot say that black represents evil. More closely aligned with evil than the other colors? Fine. More ripe with potential for evil? Sure. Evil? No. And that's a very important distinction

Stars earn their brightest colors in the dark.

Storms pass by on their way to get all the colors needed to paint your rainbow.

Stop looking at today through yesterday's lens. Adjust your focus and capture life in living color.

Stress and striving always color your art in unintended ways.

Teachers' favorite color ink, splashed and dripped down his face a grisly reminder of mistakes bruising his life.

The beauty of your passion is in the colours of your belief.

That puke was the most wonderful thing I'd ever seen. It was green and a little red. Technicolor, really, the color puke is supposed to be. It definitely wasn't black, and it didn't smell like toasty poop. This was a good sign.

Technology is grey. More technology, less colors. We're building a world with colors only in poems.

The Amber girl had made him late. Stumbling on her under the tree, nearly falling on her beauty. Eye-tipped blue feathers twining her wrist, Waldo had bowed, kissed the ground—the all-knowing peacock. Friend of the angels, his mother had said, their messenger; Amber was their seeing stone.

The brief sound is like a color swallowed by a crack. But what color?

...the blue sea glass I gave her rolls around on her fingertips. 'Each piece reminds me that sometimes in a world of beige sand, the ocean tosses out a colorful piece of glass.

The closer you get to know someone, the more you see their true colors.

The color of your heart is more important than the color of your skin.

The colour of fear is never dark or black; it has the colour of thunderbolt; usually white, but can appear in different hues depending on how the fear travels through to get inside your heart

The color of the sun when rises Your skin when shines, just tanned The stars raveled on a clear blue sky Your favorite dress of mine, fallen on the floor... (fragment from "Yellow", chapter Hope)

The color palette is confined to that of a Gustave Dore' engraving, greys and blacks, and subtle shadings of these rendered in harrowing crosshatches and highlighted with sudden glaring areas of nothingness, like splotches of vitiligo sent to haunt the dead with memories of what real light did to the eyes.

The color white is a blank canvas, just waiting to be written on. Compared to other more stimulating colors it is a refreshing change, a soothing and calm visual experience for the mind, which allows for imagination growth and creativity.

The destruction of sight, wherever the injuries be sustained, follows the same law: all colours are affected in the first place, and lose their saturation. Then the spectrum is simplified, being reduced to four and soon to two colours; finally a grey monochrome stage is reached, although the pathological colour is never identifiable with any normal one. Thus in central as in peripheral lesions ‘the loss of nervous substance results not only in a deficiency of certain qualities, but in the change to a less differentiated and more primitive structure’.

The destruction of sight, wherever the injuries be sustained, follows the same law: all colors are affected in the first place,and lose their saturation. Then the spectrum is simplified, being reduced to four and soon to two colors; finally a grey monochrome stage is reached, although the pathological color is never identifiable with any normal one. Thus in central as in peripheral lesions ‘the loss of nervous substance results not only in a deficiency of certain qualities, but in the change to a less differentiated and more primitive structure’.

The eyes were of a color which he could never decide on, afterwards when he told the story he used to say they were the color of everything in Spring.

The grass changes color surreptitiously under the influence of the soil and the sunlight but neither the soil nor the sunlight ever notice that! And neither does the grass!

The Gray soldiers prowl the cities ensuring order, ensuring obedience to the hierarchy. The Whites arbitrate their justice and push their philosophy. Pinks pleasure and serve in highColor homes. Silvers count and manipulate currency and logistics. Yellows study the medicines and sciences. Greens develop technology. Blues navigate the stars. Coppers run the beauracracy. Every Color has a purpose. Every Color props up the Golds.

The next time a woman of whatever color, or a dark-skinned person of whatever sex aspires to be president, the way should be a little smoother because I helped pave it