“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
– Rabindranath Tagore.
“Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. “
– Oscar Wilde.
“Drenched in British purples, I have offered up my tones: pigeon breast, hind belly, balky mule lung, monkey bottom pink, lapis lazuli and malachite, excited nymph thigh, panther pee-pee, high-smelling hen hair, hedgehog in aspic, barrel-maker’s brothel, revered rose, monkeybush, turkey-like white, sly violet, page’s slipper, immaculate nun spring, unspeakable red, Ensor azure, affected yellow, mummy skull, rock-hard gray, brunt celadon, shop soiled smoke ring.”
– James Ensor.
“Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.”
– Jack Kerouac.
“Love was a feeling completely bound up with color, like thousands of rainbows superimposed one on top of the other.”
– Paulo Coelho.
“You know the days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds. You mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you’re getting fat, and maybe it’s been raining too long. You’re just sad, that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid, and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?”
– Truman Capote.
“Your purpose is to make your audience see what you saw, hear what you heard, feel what you felt. Relevant detail, couched in concrete, colorful language, is the best way to recreate the incident as it happened and to picture it for the audience.”
– Dale Carnegie.
“Think of what starlight
And lamplight would lack
Diamonds and fireflies
If they couldn’t lean against Black.”
– Mary O’Neill.
“Let me, O let me bathe my soul in colours; let me swallow the sunset and drink the rainbow.”
– Kahlil Gibran.
“The phrase and the day and the scene harmonized in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycoloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?”
– James Joyce.
“When you want to make the main color pure and bright, don’t just keep adding bright colors on it. Just make the colors around the spot darker and dull. It will give the scene dramatical effects.
I think the life is the same.”
– Hiroko Sakai.
“All these many-coloured feelings fell… like light on a black surface, producing no change, meeting no return.”
– Catharine Maria Sedgwick.
“Color directly influences the soul. Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the hammers, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key or another purposively, to cause vibrations in the soul.”
– Wassily Kandinsky.
“The destruction of sight, wherever the injuries be sustained, follows
the same law: all colors are affected in the first place,and lose their
saturation. Then the spectrum is simplified, being reduced to four and
soon to two colors; finally a grey monochrome stage is reached,
although the pathological color is never identifiable with any normal
one. Thus in central as in peripheral lesions ‘the loss of nervous substance results not only in a deficiency of certain qualities, but in the
change to a less differentiated and more primitive structure.”
― Maurice Merleau-Ponty.