Quotes About Color

Nature rarer uses Yellow Than another Hue – Saves she all of that for Sunsets Prodigal of Blue Spending Scarlet, like a Woman Yellow she affords Only scantly and selectly Like a Lover's Words –

What colors are the rhythms of your soul?

Blushing is the color of virtue.

Winter is simple no clutter, no color a blanket of snow reminds us to rest

My childhood smells like a box of Crayola crayons.

Don't forget that your spirit-twinkle makes life's rainbow shine bright.

I really like black. I love wearing black, different aesthetics and shades. I like earth tones. Those are my go-tos.

Your attitude is like a box of crayons that color your world. Constantly color your picture gray, and your picture will always be bleak. Try adding some bright colors to the picture by including humor, and your picture begins to lighten up.

I feel in love with black; it contained all color. It wasn't a negation of color…Black is the most aristocratic color of all…You can be quiet, and it contains the whole thing.

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of completion; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with Autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the substance of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?

A woodland in full color is awesome as a forest fire, in magnitude at least, but a single tree is like a dancing tongue of flame to warm the heart.

You were red, and you liked me because I was blue, but you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky, and you decided purple just wasn't for you.

There was a perception that life here was-I won't say gray, that's hard for me-but beige.

Aristotle formulated the same point in more sober terms when he said that, that which sees becomes colored itself, so to speak, :and that the reality of the perceived and the reality of the perceiving are identical.

Color is a plastic means of creating intervals... color harmonics produced by special relationships, or tensions. We differentiate now between formal tensions and color tensions, just as we differentiate in music between counterpoint and harmony.

With flowers the sex is up-front and x-rated.

The study, therefore, of the representation of visible nature and of the powers of expression possessed by form and colour is the object of the painter's training.

White ceiling tiles. Low-energy bulbs in cylindrical down-lighters. Walls and chairs in Hospital Yellow. A colour so blatantly designed to soothe those in medical distress that it makes me want to bubble blood from the corners of my mouth, just to show it who's boss. 'I

Trout-coloured water breaking over rocks.

I do love you, Jesse, so much. And once it worried me, that I could love a Yankee so thoroughly, so desperately, so completely. But a friend told me something once. He said that I don't love a Yankee, I love a man. And I do, Jesse, I love you. And the color that you wear can't change the man that you are. I love that man.

Sir, you are gainfully employed and a good man who appreciates we are a great human family." "Most certainly, sir," Mark promised. "Alas, many of us foolishly learned the hard way, but you see, once death claims us, a human soul has no color. We are one, and alive and dead, we are beautiful in all that we are.

They can see everything they want to, but never forget that they cannot see beyond the distortion of their imagination where there is no color and everything exists in black and white. And that is why we will survive, because they do not have what is necessary to defeat us. The real war is between our imagination and theirs, what we can see and what they are blinded to. Do not despair. None of them can see far enough, and so long as we do not let them violate our imagination we will survive.

This was the time when Mother usually did her knitting. With ten children in the family, she didn't have time to knit more than one pair of mittens a year for each of them, so she gave the mittens to them at Christmas. The children never asked who the mittens were for, even though they watched each one grow. Some had stripes of bright color and some had little patterns, and of course some were big and some were small.

I loved autumn, the one season of the year that God seemed to have put there just for the beauty of it.