All human behavior, all human motivations, all man’s hopes and fears, were heavily colored and largely controlled by mankind’s tragic and oddly beautiful pattern of reproduction.
Creation is the vocal chords of God speaking each day through the colors of the sunrise, the vastness of the night sky,the teeming of life in the ocean, the majesty of the mountains.
Maybe the hardened clay was not as ugly as I had thought. Maybe what I resented was the color my father had painted me. The time had come to sand away some of that dreadful stain.
History has rewritten itself so many times I'm not really sure how it was to begin with -- it's a bit like trying to guess the original color of a wall when it's been repainted eight times.
He looked down at the pillow that had fallen to the floor at his feet. "Are you seriously beginning a fight you cannot possibly win, druid?" he asked, his Gwarda green eyes deepening in color from the challenge." -Madison Thorne Grey, Sustenance
Every now and then I sit and watch the sun rise to remind myself how it's done—peacefully, steadily, warmly, and in beautiful color.
Gratitude doesn't change the scenery. It merely washes clean the glass you look through so you can clearly see the colors.
Gratitude is the real treasure God wants us to find, because it isn't the pot of gold but the rainbow that colors our world.
The Pacific is my home ocean; I knew it first, grew up on its shore, collected marine animals along the coast. I know its moods, its color, its nature.
I like the word clandestine. It feels medieval. Sometimes I think of words as being alive. If clandestine were alive, it would be a pale little girl with hair the color of fall leaves and a dress as white as the moon.
And the dreams so rich in color. How else would death call you? Waking in the cold dawn it all turned to ash instantly. Like certain ancient frescoes entombed for centuries suddenly exposed to the day.
I see you in every flower in the park, every color in a rainbow and in every scent that reminds me of the things I love. Without knowing how, or even why it happened, I can’t imagine a world where you don’t exist.
The color palette is confined to that of a Gustave Dore' engraving, greys and blacks, and subtle shadings of these rendered in harrowing crosshatches and highlighted with sudden glaring areas of nothingness, like splotches of vitiligo sent to haunt t...
When I write... I am in the fond arms of a childhood friend upon whose colorful heart I can hang the charcoal drawings of my woes.
We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delinaments, weight and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. I know, he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.
No matter how different one looks or may seem, all are just shades in the colorful rainbow of life that loves everyone, no matter if they are short, purple, or green.
We ought to be free to meet and mingle, --to rise by our individual worth, without any consideration of caste or color; and they who deny us this right are false to their own professed principals of human equality.
You have wavered uncertainly between two systems, between drawing and coloring, between the painstaking phlegm, the stiff precision, of the old German masters, and the dazzling ardor, the happy fertility, of the Italian painters.
For you, a comet, under a blue sky, leaves trail of color, For you, a star, dreams of being able to kiss you, dream to hear your voice For you, full moon, keep vigil for you, my girl, keep vigil for you, my love.
- Then… it was like… I don’t even know how to describe it. Color and light and music and life and joy and love… so many wonderful things, all the lovely things that make up the world and make it worth living.
J Abrams was driving off into the big stupid vermilion sky, and even though the color had been my favorite, I was sure that from now on, every time I looked at it I would feel nothing but sadness.
