Quotes About Colors

Knowing how to paint and to use one's colors rightly has not any connection with originality. This originality consists in properly expressing your own impressions.

The room was large and faultless. A psychologist, hired from Cambridge, had planned the decorations—magenta and gamboge; colors which—it had been demonstrated by experiments on poultry and mice—conduce to a mood of dignified gaiety. Every day carpet, curtains and upholstery were inspected for signs of disrepair. A gentle whining note filled the apartment, emanating from a plant which was thought to "condition" the atmosphere.

It was pleasant to drive back to the hotel in the late afternoon, above a sea as mysteriously colored as the agates and cornelians of childhood, green as green milk, blue as laundry water, wine dark.

the green and cream twilight faded, and the fire-red, gas-blue, ghost-green signs began to shine smokily through the tranquil rain.

a wild submergence of soul, a dipping of all colors into an obscuring dye

Even after waking From the dream I'll see the colors of irises.

Autumn is my favorite season.

I've been to most parts of India over the years, but Jaipur is my favourite city. Inspiration can be found at every turn.

I like suits that are fitted. And I usually stick to grays, whites, and blacks.

Have you seen the roses? There's a whole lot of colours.

My style is difficult to contain in a sentence; it's ever evolving. Generally I'm drawn to clean cuts and avoid patterns. I tend to choose structure and block colors, but these are all just loose guidelines.

A movie contains literally tens of thousands of ideas. They're in the form of every sentence; in the performance of each line; in the design of characters, sets, and backgrounds; in the locations of the camera; in the colors, the lighting, the pacing.

How oft,—be witness, Guardian of our days!... The sky besprinkled o'er with rainbow hues, As if angelic wings had wanton'd there;...

Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.

I like to imagine that they were the first flowers I saw, over my mother's shoulder, as the pink blanket slipped away from my face and their colors flooded my consciousness. I've heard that early experience can attune the brain to certain stimuli, so that they are processed with greater speed and certainty, so that they can be used again and again, so that we remember. Love at first sight.

asked my artist buddies about the power of purple and gold, and they sent me right to the color wheel: these two are complementary colors, as different in nature as could be. In composing a palette, putting them together makes each more vivid; just a touch of one will bring out the other.

The composer Aaron Copland got it right. An Appalachian spring is music for dancing. The woods dance with the colors of wildflowers, nodding sprays of white dogwood and the pink froth of redbuds, rushing streams and the embroidered solemnity of dark mountains.

Kira closed her eyes, thought, and said them aloud. Madder for red. Bedstraw for red too, just the roots. Tops of tansy for yellow, and greenwood for yellow too. And yarrow: yellow and gold. Dark hollyhocks, just the petals, for mauve.... Broom sedge, she added, still remembering. Goldy yellows and browns. And Saint Johnswort for browns too, but it'll stain my hands. And bronze fennel--leaves and flowers; use them fresh--and you can eat it too. Chamomile for tea and for green hues.

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?

You have the colors," The Giver told him. "And you have the courage. I will help you to have the strength.

Things could change, Gabe, Jonas went on. Things could be different. I don't know how, but there must be some way for things to be different. There could be colours. And grandparents he added

Things could change Gabe. Things could be different. I don't know how, but there must be some way for things to be different. There could be colors. And grandparents. And everybody would have memories. You know about memories...Gabe, there could be love.

Utterly bleak and black is not the sum of realism. All the other colors are real, too.

Her lips curved up. "That's very Ingrey of you, Ingrey. Always look on the dark side." "Someone has to be realistic, in the midst of this madness!" Now her brows rose, too. She was laughing at him. "Utterly bleak and black is not the sum of realism. All the other colors are real, too. It was my undeserved redemption as well.