colour quotes
I know the colour rose, and it is lovely, But not when it ripens in a tumour; And healing greens, leaves and grass, so springlike, In limbs that fester are not springlike.
And it is the colour of sand, The darkness, as it sifts through your hand.
I learned in New Jersey that to be a Negro meant, precisely, that one was never looked at but was simplyat themercyofthereflexesthecolorofone'sskincaused in other people.
The appearance of the wheels and their work was like unto the colour of a beryl: and they four had one likeness: and their appearance and their work was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel.
Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.
What Color isYour Parachute?
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 winethrough water, and altered the colour of my mind.
His coomb was redder than the fyn coral, And batailled as it were a castle wal; His byle was blak, and as the jeet it shoon; Lyk asure were his legges and his toon; His nayles whitter than the lylye flour, And lyk the burned gold was his colour.
None of them knew the color of the sky.
The colour of my soul is iron-greyand sad bats wheel about the steeple of my dreams.
Beige! Just my color.
The problem of the twentieth century is the problem of the colour line.
Today I see more clearly than yesterday that back of the problem of race and color, lies a greater problem which both obscures and implements it: and that isthefact that so many civilized persons are willing to live in comfort even if the price of this is poverty, ignorance and disease of the majority of their fellowmen; that to maintain this privilege men have waged war until today war tends to become universal and continuous, and the excuse for this war continues largely to be color and race.
Any colorso long as it's black.
Than these November skies Is no sky lovelier. The clouds are deep; Into their grey the subtle spies Of colour creep, Changing their high austerity to delight, Till ev'n the leaden interfolds are bright.
The heart never knows the colour of the skin.
And life is colour and warmth and light And a striving evermore for these; And he is dead, who will not fight; And who dies fighting has increase.
Drawing is onlya necessary evil, proportions are easily determined: colour isthe goal, the beginning and end of art.
Carving is interrelated masses conveying an emotion: a perfect relationship between the mind and the colour, light and weight which is the stone, made by the hand which feels.
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrist? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore ishewearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.
'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his; In the good old time 'twas hanging for the colour that it is; Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair For the nameless and abominable colour of his hair.
Ingeneral, therefore, color isa means ofexerting a direct influenceuponthesoul.Coloristhekeyboard.The eyeis the hammer. The soul is the piano, with its many strings.
I know the colour of that blood; it is arterial blood; I cannot be deceived in that colour; that drop of blood is my death-warrantI must die.
I have a dream. I have a dream that my four little children will oneday liveinanationwherethey will not bejudged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.
When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned.
Color possesses me. I don't have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. That is the meaning of this happy hour: Color and I are one. I am a painter.
Ifdrawing belongstotherealmoftheSpirit and colour to that of the Senses, you must draw first, to cultivate the Spirit and to be able to lead colour through the paths of the Spirit.
When you go out to paint, try to forget what objects you have before youa tree, a house, a field, or whatever. Merely think, here is a little square of blue, here an oblong of pink, here a streakof yellow, and paint it just as it looks to you, the exact colour and shape, until it gives your own naive impression of the scene before you.
One evening,Iwas walking along a path, the city was on one side and the fjord below. I felt tired and ill. I stopped and looked out over the fjordthe sun was setting, and the clouds turning blood red.I sensed a scream passing through nature; it seemed to me that I heard the scream. Ipainted this picture, paintedthe cloudsas actual blood. The colour shrieked. This becameThe Scream.
I am not interested in relationships of color or form or anything else I am interested only in expressing the basic human emotionstragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so onand the fact that lots of people breakdown and cry when confronted with my pictures shows that I communicate with those basic human emotions. The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you, as you say, are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point!
Colour is the ultimate in art. It is still and will always remain a mystery to us, we can only apprehend it intuitively in flowers.
Color and bite permeate a language designed to rally many men, to destroy some, and to change the minds of others.
The vanity of translation; it were as wise to cast a violet into a crucible that you might discover the formal principle of its colour and odour, as seek to transfuse from one language to another the creations of a poet. 786 The plant must spring again from its seed, or it will bear no flower.
It will be helpful in our mutual objective to allow every man in America to look hisneighbour inthe faceand see a mannot a colour.
Nature's scheme of colour in Australia isgold and blue.
I thought I could not breathe in that fine air That pure severity of perfect light I yearned for warmth and colour which I found In Lancelot.
Seethat gold Cadillac down the street? That's the color I want those handrails.Gold.Cadillac Gold. Not yellow like a daisy.
Pas la Couleur, rien que la Nuance! No colour, only nuance!
Que coisa e a formosura, sena o uma caveira bem vestida, a que a menor enfermidade tira a cor, e antes de a morte a despir de todo, os anos lhe va o mortificando a gra c° a daquela exterior e aparente superf|cie, de tal sorte, que, se os olhos pudessem penetrar o interior dela, o na o poderiam ver sem horror? What isbeauty, but a well-dressed skull that loses colour with the slightest illness, and, before death robs it of everything, the grace of its external and apparent surface is mortified by the years in such a way that, if eyes could penetrate within beauty, they could watch it only full of horror?
'We were the colour of shadows when we came down with tinkling leg-irons to join the chains of the sea, for the silver coins multiplying on the sold horizon.'
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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