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1 " I believe that God is in me as the sun is in the colour and fragrance of a flower - the Light in my darkness, the Voice in my silence. "
― Helen Keller
2 " The intellectual attainments of a man who thinks for himself resemble a fine painting, where the light and shade are correct, the tone sustained, the colour perfectly harmonised; it is true to life. On the other hand, the intellectual attainments of the mere man of learning are like a large palette, full of all sorts of colours, which at most are systematically arranged, but devoid of harmony, connection and meaning. "
― Arthur Schopenhauer , Parerga and Paralipomena
3 " I made art a philosophy, and philosophy an art: I altered the minds of men, and the colour of things: I awoke the imagination of my century so that it created myth and legend around me: I summed up all things in a phrase, all existence in an epigram: whatever I touched I made beautiful "
― Oscar Wilde , De Profundis and Other Writings
4 " The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts. "
― Marcus Aurelius , Meditations
5 " Like a battalion of marines at roll call, her neck hairs marshaled to five-alarm status. She stumbled back to her desk, jerked open the botton drawer, retrieved a pair of Nighthawk binoculars, fixed the scopes on him, and fiddled with the focus. Gotcha. Hair the colour of coal. Chocolate brown eyes. A five-o'clock shadow ringing his craggy jawline. Handsome as the day was long...He sauntered towards her, oozing charisma from every pore. Charlee forgot to breathe. And then he committed the gravest sin of all, knocking her world helter-skelter. The scoundrel smiled. "
6 " I stood in my garden as the rain poured down, eyes closed, and when I opened them I thought to myself how I'd never seen anything more beautiful. Green flashed before my eyes; trees, leaves and grass, glittering with raindrops, the tears of angels weeping with sadness and joy; green, the colour of love, to remind me why I'm here. "
― Sarah Brownlee
7 " Western funerals: black hearses, and black horses, and fast-fading flowers. Why should black be the colour of death? Why not the colours of a sunset? "
― , The Maker Of Heavenly Trousers
8 " nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands-excerpt of #35 from " 100 Selected Poems "
9 " You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire. "
― Anna Akhmatova , The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova
10 " What is the colour of Christmas?Red? The red of the toyshops on a dark winter’s afternoon,Of Father Christmas and the robin’s breast?Or green?Green of holly and spruce and mistletoe in the house, dark shadow of summer in leafless winter?One might plainly add a romance of white, fields of frost and snow;thus white, green, red- reducing the event to the level of a Chianti bottle. But many will say that the significant colour is gold, gold of fire and treasure, of light in the winter dark; and this gets closer, For the true colour of Christmas is Black.Black of winter, black of night, black of frost and of the east wind, black of dangerous shadows beyond the firelight.I am not sure who wrote this. I got it from page nine of “A Book of Christmas” by William Sansom. Google didn’t help. It is rather true I think, that the true color of Christmas is black. For like the author said in succeeding sentences “The table yellow with electric light, the fire by which stories are told, the bright spangle of the tree- they all blazé out of shadow and out of a darkness of winter "
11 " I watched the sky as it turned from silver to grey to the colour of rain. Even the clouds tried to look the other way. "
― Markus Zusak , The Book Thief
12 " People appear like angels until you hear them speak. You must not rush to judge people by the colour of their cloaks, but by the content of their words! "
― Israelmore Ayivor
13 " I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind. "
― Emily Brontë , Wuthering Heights
14 " The heartbeat is an irregular bell tolling; the footprints create ammonite patterns in the snow; they spiral in serpentine undulations, toward a complicated centre of mass, forming a beautifully inscribed hieroglyph, the earth acting as papyrus. It’s all signs and symbols; reading the emotions of another is an art, and tonight she lacks the imagination needed in order to be creative. Bewitching to behold, wings tucked neatly into the back of a loose summer jacket; his bare feet, dusky and dusty, tumble languidly toward her, over the soft crumbling ground. Dawn finds her dreams more beautiful to inhabit than reality. To her it becomes more real than the bed sheets she’s pulling close to her chest. As he approaches, she continues to watch the invocation of her desire. Wherever he steps the snow flees, it’s as if spring flowers from the very tips of his toes. She holds her breath as he slips his hand into hers, leading her away from the top of the hill on which they are standing. They don’t follow the path, instead they tread boldly over willow roots, twigs and fern leaves. Looking upwards, in order to see the colour of the sky, Dawn crosses her fingers for a shade of blue. "
15 " The validation of your dreams is not in the colour of your skin but in the quality of your heart. "
16 " Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth. Roll up that tender air and the plant dies, the colour fades. The earth we walk on is a parched cinder. It is marl we tread and fiery cobbles scorch our feet. By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. ‘Tis waking that kills us. "
― Virginia Woolf , Orlando
17 " In order to justify your nonsense, you continue to fight battles won long ago. You rage against threats that exist only in your mind....You focus on the colour of schoolbags, sexist pronouns, pink toys in Kinder Surprises and the sharing of dish-washing duties in relationships. All the while completely ignoring what it is that really threatens the freedom of women....Your aversion towards the patriarchy, manifested in the form of straight white males, has led you you to become bedfellows of all the other minorities who share that aversion. "
― Marion Le Pen
18 " I don't care for the colour of your skin, I care for the size of your heart behind it. "
― Nikki Rowe
19 " If the colour of life turns grey turn the palette the other way "
― Benny Bellamacina , Piddly Poems for Children
20 " There was a steady throng of people in the market square now and a distinct buzz in the air with the sound of excited chatter alongside the clamour of heels on cobbles and the raised voices of the stallholders advertising their wares. Upon entering we bumped straight into Josie." All on your own?" Angela asked her." I've left Sooz looking round the antiques shops," Josie said, " I went in the first one with her but that was enough for me. I'm not into knick-knacks like she is. I much prefer a good book." " Something classical," I suggested." Oh yes, definitely," Josie replied, " I love the classics. I did have a look at the ones on sale in the shop." " But nothing took your fancy?" " Not really. I was fingering 'Howard's End' for a while." " I bet that brought the colour back to his cheeks," I told her, " We'll see you at the coach later on." I grabbed Angela's arm and we walked off before Josie could ask what I meant. "