Quotes About Paint

The sky was a fresh-swept blue, with only a trace of white cloud clinging to the dome of heaven like a thin streak of test paint

One treatment shown to prevent cavities in young teeth: a fluoride varnish that the dentist can easily paint on once a year. Toothbrushing

When teams are crowded in the paint, it's very hard to get in there and penetrate, but you got to find ways to get into transition and get into your strengths. It's a lot of thinking out there, you got to make sure you think and strategize.

the way a drop of blue paint intensified whiteness.

When the campaign ends, and you are home, the alarm clock is the same, but you don't know where to start after it goes off: expense reports, new stories, the crusted paint cans that have to go to the hazardous-waste disposal site, the wiper blade on the Honda that has gone droopy.

We work in a shop about the size of the paint department of Richard Childress Racing.

The world was not the world; it was an expression of a deeper reality, as the paint on the canvas was an expression of the artist's thoughts.

In a film, there are dramatic moments and a bunch of different moments that lead up to a dramatic moment. On some songs, I try to paint the picture of before that drama happens, so by the time you get to the end of the project you've experienced infatuation and intimacy before it dives off to drama.

When talking about the violence of paint, it's nothing to do with the violence of war. It's to do with an attempt to remake the violence of reality iteslf.

For example, lead paint in old houses can be a greater threat to children's health than lead that may be under some industrial site where there are no children.

I wasn't a nerd, mind you, but I'd spent a lot of my youth studying Epics, so I'd had limited experience with social interaction. I mixed with ordinary people about the same way that a bucket of paint mixed with a bag of gerbils.

While I was at college studying design I decided to paint. I was also greatly inspired by the colours that I had seen on my travels in the Brazilian Rain forest.

The very formal, beautiful, composed order that I make with paint and color is freighted with objects, but like leaves falling from a tree onto a lawnmower below, the edges of this 'thing' have a certain serendipity.

I do mostly Southern landscapes. I do beautiful old barns that are falling down, and beautiful trees reflecting in the water. My lovely wife Dorothy and I travel quite a bit, so I take pictures of different things that inspire me to come home, when I come home here in North Carolina, into my art studio and paint these things.

The world is held together by lies. When I paint, I'm searching for the truth between them, but I'm no better at this than anyone else. Worse, probably.

No small dabs of colour - you want plenty of paint to paint with.

Peta reaches up to his forehead, delicately removes a flake of paint from the basketball pole, and then pulls him to her chest, her palm to his cheek, and this, her, it's home, and it's not haunted, not even a little.

I love series television because it's so much fun to have that much opportunity to paint the character.

I found it impossible to strive for a goal I couldn't fathom, to re-create a thing of which I'd no knowledge, like a blind man trying to paint a picture of sky and clouds and sun.

Peter had two short swords strapped on his back, the belts crisscrossing his chest bandito style. A black splash of war paint covered his face, and his golden eyes gleamed out from the paint. He pulled his swords free, clanged them together, and all the Devils lined up on either side of him. (the Child Thief)

Underneath was a votive shrine with; offerings—a tin of Nestlé's milk, a plaster model of a girl in bed, a nail dipped in grey paint, and some burned-out candles.

But here is an artist. He desires to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting bit of romantic landscape in all the valley of Saco.

I find myself moved by man in his new violent environment. I want to paint this explicitly and beautifully.

The sin and the shame and the sorrow, The crime and the want and the woe That are born there in your workshop, No hand can paint, you know.