Quotes About Red

I pledge allegiance to the flag, 'cause if I don't it's such a drag. Flags are red and white and blue. Why they are I have no clue.

Oh no! Sally was on the floor; the chair had toppled over, and Milkshake was nearby. Sally picked up the book and looked at it. She noticed it was a special book. Its color was red, bright red like a fresh apple. The title of the book was also unique, "The Magical Zoo." Sally read the title to Milkshake, and her pet was also interested.

When a language advances and adds a third term to its lexicon for color, the third term is always red.

His skin was pocked and ruddy, his nose large and misshapen, red and veined as though he'd snorted, and retained, Burgundy.

Sun poured in through the stained-glass boys in uniforms from the Great War, scattering blues and deep reds and yellows across the pine floor and oak pews.

was my first landscape, red brown as the clay of her georgia.

Stars are fires that burn for thousands of years. Some of them burn slow and long, like red dwarfs. Others-blue giants-burn their fuel so fast they shine across great distances, and are easy to see. As they start to run out of fuel, they burn helium, grow even hotter, and explode in a supernova. Supernovas, they're brighter than the brightest galaxies. They die, but everyone watches them go.

If there was a word in the dictionary to describe a woman as loving, wonderful, nurturing, caring and affectionate like you, I'd paint the whole world red with it. Since there is no such word, accept my humble wishes on your Happy Birthday!

Cherries are red and the sky is blue, love never crossed my mind until the day I met you

Roses are red, I have a phone; nobody texts me, I am alone.

The scribbled signature black, onto the blinding global white, onto the thick soupy red.

I almost feel like Mars has been taking care of me for all of these years.

its feet had been in water, but the cushions were sound. The red rug could not make up its mind whether to float or sink; every motion of the water caused it to shift with weighty indecision.

I see them in the primitive silkscreen the brain is able to produce, maybe eight inches in front of my closed eyes, miniaturised by time and distance, riddled by visual static, each figure a dancing red ribbon. These are among the people I've tried to know twice, the second time in memory and language. Through them, myself. They are what I've become, in ways I don't understand but which I believe will accrue to a rounded truth, a second life for me as well as for them.

In the water, a dark plume of blood blossomed by her foot; as I blinked, a thin red tendril spiraled up and curled over her pale toes, undulating in the water like a thread of crimson smoke.

Easy to shoot with this Aimpoint Micro red dot.

Russia through the waning days of the Soviet Union and into the heyday after the fall, the Red Mafia was imbedded in almost all facets of state affairs. The bratva was not an outside criminal threat, but rather part of the government itself. When Stalin betrayed his criminal ties during the Great Purge, he inadvertently created an even stronger organization that had survived and thrived to this day.

If Melissa Miller were an artist, she would have painted the world in vicious streaks of red. Nothing like Picasso's rose period, all soft and cheerful and so optimistic that it made you want to puke. Missy's red phase would have been brutal and bright enough to cut your eyes. Missy's art would have been honest.

The brilliant red sphere balanced on the rim of the water like a beach ball. Then it slipped beyond the horizon, leaving the soft haze of twilight behind it.

In the Manglemunching Forest there's a Nickle Nackle tree, Growing Nickle Nackle berries that are red as red can be.

She wore Hawaiian-print bell-bottoms and a pair of clogs painted fairy-tale red with blue flowers. She looked like a pixie, the way her hair was moussed with glitter on the ends.

island was full of them. What I really wanted was a wild strawberry, to slip sweetly down my irritable throat, and so I told that brown hull. It changed so fast my thumb sank into its soft, red body.

Agamemnon's face had broken into dark red blotches of shock. It seemed like the greatest arrogance or stupidity not to have guessed he might be at fault, but he had not.

We spent hours and hours on the red couch, giggling, The happiness police are going to come and arrest us if we go on this way. Arrest us for our luck.