Quotes About Red

Krasnopresnenskaya Nab, marching

To covered bridges in the late afternoon, or, better yet, on warm red mornings.

He was distinguished by a red eye that had hemorrhaged while proofreading unsolicited manuscripts.

A coincidence was like a matador's red cape; if you spotted one, your instinct told you to do more than stand there and paw at the ground in frustration.

The friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might; to eat with apple tart.

My cheeks are red hot, my lip still trembles, because I sent my heart to speak; every word of it delusional and awkward, an exuberance, an abrupt sound. That's how I spoke, oh, it still shows on my hot cheeks I'm now carrying home. I look down at the snow and walk past many houses, past many hedges, many trees, the snow adorns hedge, tree and house. I walk on, staring down at the snow, on my cheeks nothing but red-hot memory reminding me of my wild talk.

Impossible not to see them, not to remember what it was like, when it was like that. To sit there, shivering, as the sun dips toward the horizon and the wind blows cold over the waves, as the sky blazes red and darkness gathers around the girls, neither of them knowing how little time they have left before the fire goes out. Remember how good it felt to burn.

Washington's hair was reddish brown, and contrary to a common belief, he never wore a wig. The illusion that he did so derived from the powder that he sprinkled on his hair with a puffball in later life.

As it turned out, the canister was filled with a substance called red mercury—also known as cinnabar—that physically resembles uranium oxide although chemically it is quite different. Red mercury has been used in nuclear scams for more than twenty-five years.

Sûrement la Seine était rouge ce jour-là, de nuit on voyait pas

In the red darkness glinted innumerable rubies.

While customarily splling coffee grounds all over the counter, I spotted a can in the corner whose red label read SADNESS. Was there so much of it they could can it and sell it? A bolt of pain went through my intestines before I realized that it was not SADNESS but SARDINES.

There had been a long article about the resurgence of stoicism in a newspaper he had picked up in the coffee bar—some of it, he recalled, underlined in red ink by an unknown reader. That happened to many of the newspapers and magazines there—somebody was furtively, and selectively, underlining certain things in red.

But that miracle would eventually arrive, as it always had, and the landscape would turn from brown to green within hours under the kiss of the rain. And there were other colours that would follow the green; yellows, blues, reds would appear in patches across the veld as if great cakes of dye had been crumbled and scattered by an unseen hand.

Blue-shirt ( Blauserk in Inuktitat, the Inuit language), or Mykla Jokull, now known as Gunnbjorn's Peak (12,500 feet)--the great metaphorical centerpiece in William T. Vollmann's saga-like novel The Ice-Shirt --is the great glacier in Greenland used as a landmark by Erik the Red in sailing west from Snaefellsness.

And if these mountains had eyes, they would wake to find two strangers in their fences, standing in admiration as a breathing red pours its tinge upon earth's shore. These mountains, which have seen untold sunrises, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man's weak praise should be given God's attention.

My mind was red paint across black night.

One fish Two fish Red fish Blue fish!

Good night, Owe," she whispered. "Good night, Red. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite." "You would have to mention bugs," she muttered. Owen laughed.

Glory sipped her second glass of red wine, impatient for the slight buzz that made her edges blur.

The sunrise was the colour of bad blood. It leaked out of the east and stained the dark sky red, marked the scraps of the cloud with stolen gold. Underneath it the road twisted up the mountainside towards the fortress of Fontezarmo - a cluster of sharp towers, ash-black again the wounded heavens. The sunrise was red, black and gold. The colours of their profession.

Heat turned his own cheeks red. And didn't that make him a soppy sod? In London, he did a fair job of playing the man of the world. Here with Serena, he felt like the awkward schoolboy who had arrived at Torver eighteen years ago.

Llama llama red pajama hollers loudly for his mama

Geryon was a monster everything about him was red