Best 3497 quotes in «black quotes» category

A world full of "certainties" All the plans, all the vanities. Where black covers the white Suited in "confidence"- the constant fight. A million roads I dream to take One destination, knowing not I turn where. A green veil covers for two years, some two decades. But the "plan" awaits, new roads to make. I pant, I struggle, I do my best While they say, "You are, dear, but so inadequate".

Baik, kalau begitu pinjami aku Blue Velvet? Blue Velvet? Iya, masa kamu tidak tahu, sutradaranya David Lynch Oh, Black Velvet maksudnya Tuan? Blue Velvet Apa sih Blue? Wah, guru SD-mu siapa? Blue ya biru dong! Apa sih biru itu, Tuan? Din, kamu mabuk? Saya kira Tuan yang mabuk, dari dulu juga Tuan tahu judul karya David Lynch itu Black Velvet

Banned and lionised by drunken cactuses, eternally sanguine in black and white, raw like the majestic sex on her ruby red deathswoman mouth, silver-coated terror in her eyes.

Ballads of the Black eyes (english - español) The place where more “I was never born”? Summer evenings!“ Destroying shadows of cypresses and almost always with closed eyes And a tomb of fireflies in each hand…. So transparent that God looks. The place where more "I was never born”? A human being. DW

Black and white is as if phoenix of colors has eloped into opacity.

Black and white is mix of toughest simplicity and easiest complexity.

Black and white is refuge of colors from their own nullity.

Black and white, severally incomplete and at the same time completely several.

Black drinks the sun and draws all colours into it. I am bleached white, my truant love. Come back, and stain me with the intensity of black.

Black is associated with power because all vibrational energies of all colors are drawn into one place, ready to be used. Wear black when you feel the need to draw energy to yourself for reviving your strength, energy, and will.

Black skin was filled with so many barriers, so many restrictions, so many.

Black and white, oldest of the vintages, newest of the last season.

Black and white, vacuum of cosmos vis-à-vis occupancy of skies.

Black is greenest ever.

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.

Black and white is salt and pepper of colors, for life tastes bland without them.

Black and white is heaviest of vibrant and at the same time lightest of achromatic.

Black Girls… Until you get enough of what you’re going through, no matter what advice a person gives you, you’ll continue to go through the same thing. Constant arguing. Constant fighting. Constant lies. Constant disappointments. Constant emotional rollercoaster. Constant heartbreak. Constant headaches. Constant threats. Constantly fighting for his attention and love. Constantly looking through his phone. Constantly sneaking through his personal belongings. Constantly arguing and/or fighting with other women over who’s supposed to be YOUR mate. Secretly checking up on him due to a lack of trust. Listen, NOBODY is worth your inner peace! What I’ve listed above is NOT a relationship. It’s a toxic mess. So, what are you going to do?

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 AND WHITE I was born into A religion of Light, But with so many other Religions and Philosophies, How do I know which ONE Is right? Is it not My birthright To seek out the light? To find Truth After surveying all the proof, Am I supposed To love Or fight? And why do all those who Try to guide me, Always start by dividing And multiplying me – From what they consider Wrong or right? I thought, There were no walls For whoever beams truth and light. And how can one speak on Light's behalf, lf all they do Is act black, But talk WHITE?

Black and white seems a journey into space which is destined back to earth.

Black hawk down. Black eagle up.

but bein alive & bein a woman & bein colored is a metaphysical dilemma/ i havent conquered yet/ do you see the point my spirit is too ancient to understand the separation of soul & gender/ my love is too delicate to have thrown back on my face my love is too delicate to have thrown back on my face my love is too beautiful to have thrown back on my face my love is too sanctified to have thrown back on my face my love is too magic to have thrown back on my face my love is too saturday nite to have thrown back on my face my love is too complicated to have thrown back on my face my love is too music to have thrown back on my face

But I'm tired of them just assuming.

But let’s not forget the Jew. Anybody that gives even a just criticism of the Jew is instantly labeled anti-Semite. The Jew cries louder than anybody else if anybody criticizes him. You can tell the truth about any minority in America, but make a true observation about the Jew, and if it doesn’t 't pat him on the back, then he uses his grip on the news media to label you anti-Semite.

But the anger has not only drawn attention to injustice; it has driven people to action, sparking movements and spurring them forward. At the very least, the public expression of black rage has allowed communities and people who have felt isolated in their own anger to know that they are not alone. Anger is what makes our struggle visible.

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.

Calling out the supposed ‘abuse’ of welfare by blacks and other people of color is a time-honored tactic for distracting the general public from actual national issue. It also taps into latent, subconscious racism, which is what right-wing politicians would call a ‘win-win.

Despite all the dark armor, the kohl liner, the black boots and chains, she saw him clearly now. She’d peered through the curtain of that cruel calmness, through the death stare and the vampire sentiments and angst and, behind it all, had found true beauty.

Division and separation means no harm to the society. It makes everyone unique.

Dicen que lo parió un fatigado vientre irlandés, pero se crió entre negros. En ese caos de catinga y de motas gozó el primado que conceden las pecas y una crencha rojiza. Practicaba el orgullo de ser blanco; también era esmirriado, chúcaro, soez.

Don't fuckin' sleep on yourself

Do not trap yourself into an owl's hooting sound where sad nights linger through the blackness of a hound

Do your parents know you’re here?' asked the lady at social Services. ‘No,’ I said, ‘but I want to know about children’s homes.’ I had to stand on my toes to see over the reception desk.

Don’t you dare come into my world and tell me what color the ocean is! It’s black. Black as midnight. Black and awful!

Eventually, some black thinkers believe, this "separation" may be the shortest route to an authentic communication at some future date when blacks and whites can enter into encounters in which they truly speak as equals and in which the white man will no longer load every phrase with unconscious suggestions that he has something to "concede" to black men or that he wants to help black men "overcome" their blackness.

Evan Lucien, if it is my last act upon this Earth," he says, his eyes intense and shadowed in the lantern light, "I will make you come.

Faced with the prospect of a black depression, Highsmith once again retreated into fantasy, dreaming about an affair with the actress Anne Meacham, whose picture she had seen in a magazine publicising her role in the Tennessee Williams' play, In the Bar of a Tokyo Hotel. After the disasters of recent years, she reckoned that the safest option was to escape into romantic imagination. She reviewed her failures over the past five years and concluded that 'the moral is: stay alone. Any idea of any close relationship should be imaginary, like any story I am writing. This way no harm is done to me or to any other person'.

Everybody has a little bit of the sun and moon in them. Everybody has a little bit of man, woman, and animal in them. Darks and lights in them. Everyone is part of a connected cosmic system. Part earth and sea, wind and fire, with some salt and dust swimming in them. We have a universe within ourselves that mimics the universe outside. None of us are just black or white, or never wrong and always right. No one. No one exists without polarities. Everybody has good and bad forces working with them, against them, and within them. PART SUN AND MOON by Suzy Kassem

Ex-slaves, in large part, shared a different economic vision. They were "always on the move," searching for family, denying their labor to "dishonest or oppressive employers," and asserting their independence through their mobility. Rather than staying in place, working as much as possible for a high a wage as possible, and thus possibly accumulating a greater array of material good, a large number of freedpeople sought not to maximize income but to minimize the amount of "time spent at work on other people's behalf.

Gratitude comes in a spectrum of colors, but Ingratitude is always black.

Fear wearing black.' Definition of cool. Maybe it's also the definition of courage. Would she be courageous?”.

First time I got the full sight of Shug Avery long black body with it black plum nipples, look like her mouth, I thought I had turned into a man

For there was nothing in his eyes but the black night and the cold stars.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –

He ranted at me while I put out the next course: a dish of boiled pigeons enveloped in a blancmange, the best I had ever made, with pulverized chicken, rose water, almonds, sugar, capon broth, ginger, verjuice and cinnamon. I had them placed in a deep dish, poured on the blancmange and scattered the snow-white surface with a thick covering of poppy seeds until the silver dish seemed to hold nothing but tiny black grains. Over this I arranged stars cut out of fine silver foil. There was a breast of veal, stuffed with cheese, eggs, saffron, herbs and raisins, upon which I scattered the darkest rose petals I could find at the flower market. There was a soup of black cabbage; boiled calves' feet with a sauce of figs and black pepper; and boiled ducks with more sliced black truffle.

he knew in his body, even if he hadn’t yet put it together in his mind, that in America the worst thing you could be was a black man. Worse than dead, you were a dead man walking.

...He sat back on his heels and watched the stars one by one cut their way through onrushing darkness, till all was reversed, day was night, and the blackness glittered with all the desert's sands, each a tiny flame beyond the bounds of time.

He sank back into his black-and-white world, his immobile world of inanimate drawings that had been granted the secret of motion, his death-world with its hidden gift of life. But that life was a deeply ambiguous life, a conjurer's trick, a crafty illusion based on an accidental property of the retina, which retained an image for a fraction of a second after the image was no longer present. On this frail fact was erected the entire structure of the cinema, that colossal confidence game. The animated cartoon was a far more honest expression of the cinematic illusion than the so-called realistic film, because the cartoon reveled in its own illusory nature, exulted in the impossible--indeed it claimed the impossible as its own, exalted it as its own highest end, found in impossibility, in the negation of the actual, its profoundest reason for being. The animated cartoon was nothing but the poetry of the impossible--therein lay its exhilaration and its secret melancholy. For this willful violation of the actual, while it was an intoxicating release from the constriction of things, was at the same time nothing but a delusion, an attempt to outwit mortality. As such it was doomed to failure. And yet it was desperately important to smash through the constriction of the actual, to unhinge the universe and let the impossible stream in, because otherwise--well, otherwise the world was nothing but an editorial cartoon.

How much living have you done? From it the patterns that you weave Are imaged: Your own life is your totem pole, Your yard of cloth, Your living. How much loving have you done? How full and free your giving? For living is but loving And loving only giving.