Quotes About Crimson

The concierge was a snapper who was over the hill and down a disused mine-shaft. Her hair was every bit as natural as a parade goose-stepping down the Wilhelmstrasse, and she'd evidently been wearing a boxing-glove when she's applied the crimson lipstick to her paperclip of a mouth.

With its leaves so rich and heavy with elation and its crimson face made brighter with visions of divinity the shadow of a certain rose looks just like an angel eating light.

The twilights out there were florid and melodramatic, great sweeps of orange and crimson and Lawrence-in-the-desert vermilion, then night dropping dark and hard like a slammed door.

The wine glasses are empty except for that one undrinkable red spot at the bottom.

He hurried back. Walls seemed to shift and advance. Right here, it must be. Wasn't this passage too short? No, it wasn't a wall that blocked his way, only fog. The fog retreated before him—then at once yielded up a wall. Staggering crimson letters caught in the web of graffiti spelled KILLER.

Mmm. O positive, my favorite.

They trickled down sunless corridors and burst capillaries until they were in the city's dark heart. A city within a city where the blood slowed and thickened and clotted in viscous smears of alizarin crimson dried to burnt sienna around the edges.

I know there is a moment when sound slips down the torn lining of itself into silence, is carried unheard and secret in its own pocket. But the crimson birds could find no such escape, no means of slipping beyond themselves between the cracks of color and song to a white undiscovered silence.

The river split for the jump of a red-gilled silver salmon, then circled to mark the spot where it fell. Spoonbills shoveled at the crimson mud in the shallows, and dowitchers jumped from cattail to cattail, frantically crying Kleek! Kleek! as though the thin reeds were as hot as the pokers they resembled.

Beauty's ensign yetIs crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,And death's pale flag is not advanced there.

J.K. watches a storm rage into the crimson afternoon. The sky is electric. Rain whips her bare arms and legs. Dustbins are hauled into the air, caught on the wind's curve. Bags and pillowcase unpacked for a while, toothbrush, perfume, books, a little pile of yellow feathers, J.K. knows she too is caught in the wind. She is Europe's eerie child, and she is part of the storm." (from "Swallowing Geography" by Deborah Levy)

It was November—the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.

Only a few more weeks till spring . . . and a few more weeks then till summer . . . and holidays . . . and Green Gables . . . and golden sunlight on Avonlea meadows . . . and a gulf that will be silver at dawn and sapphire at noon and crimson at sunset . . . and you.

Slowly the banners of the sunset city gave up their crimson and gold; slowly the conqueror's pageant faded out. Twilight crept over the valley and the little group grew silent.

crimson. A faint blue haze rested on the eastern hill, over which a great, pale, round moon was just floating up like a silver bubble. They were

I had the brief notion that his heart, pressed flat as a flower, crimson and thin as tissue paper, lay in this file. It was a very thin one.

There had never been such roses as those that bloomed that summer. They clambered everywhere and dripped as if perspiring the heaviest most intoxicating perfume, which seemed to make the very masonry drunk. The senses fused; sometimes these roses emitted low but intolerably piercing pentatonic melodies which were the sound of their deep crimson colour and yet we heard them inside our nostrils.

Down the mountain slopes, like a whirl of shining dust blown before the wind, a crimson, conoid cloud came dancing. Khemsa's dark face turned ashen; his hand began to tremble, then sank to his side. The girl beside him, sensing the change in him, stared at him inquiringly.

Come, every soul by sin oppressed; There's mercy with the Lord, And He will surely give you rest By trusting in His Word. For Jesus shed His precious blood Rich blessings to bestow; Plunge now into the crimson flood That washes white as snow. Come, then, and join this holy band, And on to glory go To dwell in that celestial land Where joys immortal flow.

Embryos are like photograph film, said Mr. Foster waggishly, as he pushed open the second door. They can only stand red light. And in effect the sultry darkness into which the students now followed him was visible and crimson, like the darkness of closed eyes on a summer's afternoon.

the sultry darkness into which the students now followed him was visible and crimson, like the darkness of closed eyes on a summer's afternoon. The bulging flanks of row on receding row and tier above tier of bottles glinted with innumerable rubies, and among the rubies moved the dim red spectres of men and women with purple eyes and all the symptoms of lupus.

And in effect the sultry darkness into which the students now followed him was visible and crimson, like the darkness of closed eyes on a summer's afternoon.

the sadness at the corners of the unsmiling crimson mouth

A small speckled visitor Wearing a crimson cape Brighter than a cherry Smaller than a grape A polka-dotted someone Walking on my wall A black-hooded lady In a scarlet shawl.