Quotes About Color

I've never met a color I couldn't love.

Can people of color be racist?" I reply, "The answer depends on your definition of racism." If one defines racism as racial prejudice, the answer is yes. People of color can and do have racial prejudices. However, if one defines racism as a system of advantage based on race, the answer is no.

color isn't a fixed reality but a perception.

professor and surgeon named Ben Ollivere (about whom much more in due course) gently incised and peeled back a sliver of skin about a millimeter thick from the arm of a cadaver. It was so thin as to be translucent. "That," he said, "is where all your skin color is. That's all that race is—a sliver of epidermis.

The most expensive of all was verdigris, which was made by hanging copper strips over a vat of horse dung and vinegar and then scraping off the oxidized copper that resulted. It is the same process that turns copper domes and statues green – just quicker and more commercial – and it made 'the delicatest Grass-green in the world', as one eighteenth-century admirer enthused. A room painted in verdigris always produced an appreciative 'ah' in visitors.

That," he said, "is where all your skin color is. That's all that race is—a sliver of epidermis.

Her eyes drift up and away, enlarging them, a beautiful copper color. It makes her look even younger. Less of the hardened image she's trying to project and more the scared kid she must be, underneath it all.

The sun isn't yellow, it's chicken

The human heart is greedy; it will use religion, color, or any other excuse to justify its greed. Blame the human heart.

Tout ce qui n'est ni une couleur, ni un parfum, ni une musique, dit-il en comptant sur ses doigts, c'est de l'enfantillage. -Et une femme? protesta Lil. Sa femme? -Une femme, non, par conséquent, dit Wolf, puisque c'est au moins les trois.

The box was small and oblong and apparently made of silver and porcelain. It was a beautiful shade of blue, but then not exactly blue, it was more like lilac. But then, not exactly lilac either, since it had a tinge of grey in it. To be more precise, it was the color of heartache.

Ela usava um vestido da cor das tempestades, das sombras e da chuva, e um colar de promessas quebradas e arrependimentos.

Even know, as I write the words, I begin to feel anxious again. A crowd of images stirs in my mind — strange, nightmarish, but at the same time oddly familiar. The word 'Birmingham', for example, brings with it a blare of noise, a flash of movement and colour and the fleeting image of towers and spires against a heavy grey sky. I try to catch hold of these impressions, to examine them further, but instantly they fade.)

Even now, as I write the words, I begin to feel anxious again. A crowd of images stirs in my mind — strange, nightmarish, but at the same time oddly familiar. The word 'Birmingham', for example, brings with it a blare of noise, a flash of movement and colour and the fleeting image of towers and spires against a heavy grey sky. I try to catch hold of these impressions, to examine them further, but instantly they fade.)

She had on a blue bonnet, and with a pair of lovely eyes of the same colour, has contrived to make me feel devilish odd about the heart.

Caught in the feathers, air gives birds their warmth and their flight; in hummingbirds, air even gives them their color. Their jewel-like radiance—emerald, ruby, amethyst—comes not from pigment, as in most birds' feathers, but from air.

Eva: Do you know why I chose your ring? Gideon: Red is our color. Red dress in limos. red fuck-me heels at garden parties. A red rose in your hair when you married me.

I closed my eyes trying to push past the jealousy. Do you know why I chose your ring? Red is our color,he said quietly,Red dresses in limos. Red f-me heels at garden parties. A red rose in your hair when you married me.

But the life of a Willa Cather, a Lillian Helman, and Virginia Woolf - - - would it not be a series of rapid ascents and probing descents into shades and meanings — into more people, ideas and conceptions? Would it not be in color, rather than black-and-white, or more gray? I think it would. And thus, I not being them, could try to be more like them: to listen, observe, and feel, and try to live more fully.

I hate Technicolor. Everybody in a Technicolor movie seems to feel obliged to wear a lurid costume in each new scene and to stand around like a clotheshorse with a lot of very green trees or very yellow wheat or very blue ocean rolling away for miles and miles in every direction.

The color scheme of the whole sanatorium seemed to be based on liver. Dark, glowering woodwork, burnt-brown leather chairs, walls that might once have been white but had succumbed under a spreading malady of mod or damp. A mottled brown linoleum sealed off the floor.

I remember a blue eye, A briefcase of tangerines.

If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit. Black or gray, or brown, even. Blue just makes me laugh.

I let the lights and the faces come at me. I let the nerves tap out signals to my brain center. I let go. The pink, green, and yellow neons flashed on and off with a definite rhythm, each with its own particular tempo. Together they screamed out a syncopated color rhapsody. The faces; the cafés; the speed of light, steel cars. Swift; quick. Red; green. Flash; off. Stop; go.