Quotes About Color

could see five different sets of scales — yellow, blue, green, black, and brown.

Her scales were vibrantly, alarmingly orange, much brighter than any SkyWing's scales could be. Winter guessed that if the Talons had somehow missed his mirror signal, a dragon this weirdly colored might still catch their eye.

He sat on as the sun's rays came slowly down through the trees, lower and lower, and when the lowest reached a branch not far above him it caught a dewdrop poised upon a leaf. The drop instantly blazed crimson, and a slight movement of his head made it show all the colours of the spectrum with extraordinary purity, from a red almost too deep to be seen through all the others to the ultimate violet and back again.

They were climbing now, climbing the hill of hardened mud upon which the castle stood, and once they had left the lee of the dunes the flies grew less; the heat, on the other hand, was greater still. 'You are going a very disagreeable colour,' said Stephen. 'Should not you throw off that thick coat, and loosen your neckcloth? Heavy, corpulent subjects are liable to be carried off in a twinkling, if not by a frank, straightforward apoplexy, then at least by a cerebral congestion.

pay her back for imaginary wrongs, or real wrongs she had not personally done him but had done representatively because she was of her race and of her colour, and he could not in his simple rage any longer distinguish between individual and crowd.

Look, it's the same color as mine. Don't be fooled by that. People are. But prick an imbecile and he'll bleed crimson. So will a dog.

Love was a feeling completely bound up with color, like thousands of rainbows superimposed one on top of the other.

dans les steppes, on emploie toujours le mot bleu pour décrire le ciel, même s'il est gris, car on sait qu'au dessus des nuages il demeure Bleu

He took blue and red and placed them next to each other, painting the eyes of an angel. And I saw the angel's eyes turn violet

Now, as they were all looking at the new moth, she, too, went to look at it. It was of a creamy yellow color, like the yellow of the lemon called Buddha's Hand, and it had long black antennae. These quivered as it felt itself impaled. The wide wings fluttered and dark spots upon them showed green and gold for a moment. Then the moth was still. How quickly they die! Ch'iuming said suddenly.

There's a lot of precision, but also a lot of gentleness. Along with being very precise about our world, there's also always space around us that is called gentleness: we allow ourselves to experience how large and fluid and full of color and energy our world is. This space is our circle.

I'm not an abstractionist. I'm not interested in the relationship of color or form or anything else. I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions: tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on.

I wouldn't mind turning into a vermilion goldfish.

If you are only moved by color relationships, you are missing the point. I am interested in expressing the big emotions - tragedy, ecstasy, doom.

All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.

I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music.

Color possesses me. I don't have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. That is the meaning of this happy hour: Color and I are one. I am a painter.

We speak of concrete and not abstract painting because nothing is more concrete, more real than a line, a color, a surface.

They'll sell you thousands of greens. Veronese green and emerald green and cadmium green and any sort of green you like; but that particular green, never.

The only time I feel alive is when I'm painting.

We live in a rainbow of chaos.

Cutting straight into color reminds me of the direct carving of the sculptor.

Abstract art was the quivalent of poetic expression; I didn't need to use words,but colors and lines. I didn't need to belong to a language-oriented culture but to an open form of expression.

Only in black and white can I see the design and textures. I don't consider color photography art. Black and white is an interpretation. Color is a duplication.