Color Me Beautiful Quotes & Sayings

I don't care what color your hair is, if you're pale or tan, if you have makeup on or just woke up all I care about is that when I look at you, you always look back and see me. You're beautiful inside and out and if you wanted to tattoo all that pretty white skin from head to toe I would be honored to put it there for you but if not I'll take you all smooth and milky white any chance I get. — Jay Crownover

You'll join me sooner than you know in a place with ... no illusions, where the truth is the only architecture, the only color, the only sound
where that which we sense merely on occasion, and which takes us up and gives us the rare and beautiful glimpses of the things we truly love, flows in deep rivers and tumbles about like clouds in the sky. — Mark Helprin

My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?"
That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?"
"The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing ... like molten gold. I could paint those ... " He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful. — Richelle Mead

I like the color of the Caribbean." I paused and absorbed the warmth of her smile before adding, "Dogs, not cats. Boxers, not briefs. Redheads over brunettes ... " I glanced sideways at her, and she met my gaze. "I have a penchant for girls in velvet jackets ... and I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
She choked in surprise, sputtered, and shook her head.
"You see? This is what I mean."
"What?"
"Nobody talks like that. I barely know you."
I was genuinely confused. Didn't girls like to hear this stuff? Besides, it was, conveniently enough, the truth. "Well, I talk like this. And you should be used to people telling you you're beautiful."
"Well, I'm not," she said, and she sounded like she was getting irritated with me again. The feeling was mutual.
I leaned against the wall and pulled up one knee. "Okay. I take it back. You are completely average. Dull, dull, dull. Unremarkable in every way. — Anne Greenwood Brown

John McEnroe ... was arguably the best serve-and-volley man of all time, but then McEnroe was an exception to pretty much every predictive norm there was. At his peak (say 1980 to 1984), he was the greatest tennis player who ever lived-the most talented, the most beautiful, the most tormented: a genius. For me, watching McEnroe don a blue polyester blazer and do stiff lame truistic color commentary for TV is like watching Faulkner do a Gap ad. — David Foster Wallace

Cress?"
"It's beautiful out there."
A hesitation, before, "Could you be more specific?"
"The sky is gorgeous, intense blue color." She pressed her fingers to the glass and traced the wavy hills on the horizon.
"Oh, good. You've really narrowed it down for me."
"I'm sorry, it's just ... " She tried to stamp down the rush of emotion. "I think we're in a desert."
"Cactuses and tumbleweeds?"
"No just a lot of sand. It's kind of orangish-gold, with hints of pink, and I can see tiny clouds of it floating above the ground, like ... like smoke."
"Piles up in lots of hills?"
"Yes, exactly! And it's beautiful."
Thorne snorted. "If this is how you feel about a desert, I can't wait until you see your first real tree. Your mind will explode. — Marissa Meyer

As any man, I, of course, have certain preferences. Being a Scot by birth, I'm inclined to favor those with a well-scrubbed look and a hint of color in their cheeks-put there by an early walk in the chill air rather than by rouge. The smell of soap on a woman's skin or the hint of shampoo in her hair is perfume enough for me ... Humor is important. The most beautiful woman in the world is a bore without that. — David Niven

I find it very sad that so many girls who look up to me are young women of color who have been told that they are ugly, and who feel that they are not normal ... I think it's so important that women look like me find that they can be beautiful or objects of love, attention and affection. — Mindy Kaling

Tell me again about the girl whose hands
have no color. Whose hands are completely
white. This time make them damned, or
untouched, or have her open a red umbrella
or point at some maple leaves and damned
near cry. Those hands. As freakish goes,
I wish I had a tail. Maybe then you'd know
how much I like you. It shakes me through,
damn through. It shakes me. When she carries
a peacock feather. When she touches her neck
or thighs. You're a person. It's not so bad.
You have hands. You are a person with hands
to hold things. Things you like. Tremendous
things. Tell me what you will hold today. I
know there is room for everything. There is no
need to be ceremonious. Tell what gets let go. — Rebecca Wadlinger

For me, painting is that magical material, that beautiful stuff that was invented, the ground-up pigments in oil which makes it very malleable. It can be manipulated and changed, darkened, lightened, given different hues and colors, so that by manipulating this material somehow I can find that figure I'm looking for, that figure that represents all the issues I'm bringing up and addressing. — Nathan Oliveira

And it was funny. The silence of him had a bizarre effect on her. Normally, she was the quiet one in situations, preferring to keep her own council and not share her thoughts on anything. But with John's mute presence, she felt curiously compelled to talk.
"I'm stuffed," she said, lying back against the pillows. As he cocked a brow and lifted the last Danish, she shook her head.
"God ... no. I couldn't manage another thing."
And it was only then that he began to eat.
"You waited for me ?" she said, frowning. When he ducked her gaze and shrugged, she cursed softly.
" You didn't have to."
Another shrug. As she watched him, she murmured, "You have beautiful table manners."
His blush was the color of Valentine's Day and she had to tell her heart to calm the fuck down as it started to beat fast. — J.R. Ward

The river was glossy, narrow, and quick, a beautiful green color, with the white and maroon striped college punts strung along the near bank ... The sun, westering, heavy, and hazy, was in those great final throes of energy before the sky whitens and clears, and evening comes. I stood and watched it. That immense body, dying trillions of feet away from me, still warming my face with its steady insensate chemistries. — Charles Finch

Icons are also beautiful, with their luminous colors and gold leaf. On first glance, the subjects can seem flat, their poses artificial. But the wonder of the icons has to do with the relationship which develops between the panel and the viewer. Looking at an icon brings me a feeling of serenity; it's like a form of prayer. So I suppose in this sense, the icon is unsurpassed. — Mary Pope Osborne

She was older, no longer the wicked limber girl with the stalled Vespa, but no less beautiful to me for that: whatever elliptical beauty Cassie possesses has always lain not in the vulnerable planes of color and texture but deeper, in the polished contours of her bones. — Tana French

I have often wondered what was the source of her beauty, her radiance. It's not the size of one's nose, the color of one's skin, the shape of one's lips or eyes that make one beautiful or ugly. So what is it? Can you, as a woman, tell me?
I shook my head.
I will tell you: It's love. Love makes us beautiful. Do you know a single person who loves and is loved, who is loved unconditionally and who, at the same time, is ugly? There's no need to ponder the question. There is no such person. — Jan-Philipp Sendker

Our world was Northern, black and white, so it was a great thing for my sisters and me to sit down at Christmastime and watch these fabulous MGM musicals. All that color, all those beautiful costumes. — Tracie Bennett

Hear me well. I cannot begin to list all the things about you that are beautiful- a man could lose himself in your eyes; in your lovely, full lips; in your creamy, perfect skin and the way you blush and turn it the color of an exquisite, ripe peach. And that's without considering your warmth, your intelligence, your humor, and the way I am utterly drawn to you when you enter a room. — Sarah MacLean

Of course, I love everyone I meet. How could I fail to! Within everyone is the spark of God. I am not concerned with racial or ethnic background or the color of one's skin; all people look to me like shining lights! I see in all creatures the reflections of God. All people are my kinfolk - people to me are beautiful! — Peace Pilgrim

"Breathe deeply and concentrate on me. You are safe."
I take a shallow breath, but it chokes me.
"Look at me," Morpheus presses. I focus on his complexion, the color of snowy shadows beneath the eclipse of his wings, and he begins to sing. Not inside my mind, since the iron dome prevents it, but aloud ... a simple, sweet lullaby, carried on his beautiful voice.
"Little blossom so filled with dread, clear the nightmares from your head. Let me wipe away your tears, for in this place you have no fears." — A.G. Howard

The dephness of my skin is heriditory.
the hugh of my skin is what defines me.
the color of my skin is what God gave me.
for the radience of my skin, I am not ashamed.
yes, i am black, dark and beautiful.
and underneath this mask,
i feel comfortable in my own skin. — Angela Khristin Brown

She was practically an invalid ever after I could remember her, but used what strength she had in lavish care upon me and my sister, who was three years younger. There was a touch of mysticism and poetry in her nature which made her love to gaze at the purple sunsets and watch the evening stars. Whatever was grand and beautiful in form and color attracted her. It seemed as though the rich green tints of the foliage and the blossoms of the flowers came for her in the springtime, and in the autumn it was for her that the mountain sides were struck with crimson and with gold. — Calvin Coolidge

I pull my foot back again, but Four's hands clamp around my arms, and he pulls me away from her with irresistible force. I breathe through gritted teeth, staring at Molly's blood-covered face, the color deep and rich and beautiful, in a way. She groans, and I hear a gurgling in her throat, watch blood trickle from her lips. "You won," Four mutters. "Stop." I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He stares at me. His eyes too wide; they look alarmed. "I think you should leave," he says. "Take a walk." I'm fine," I say. "I'm fine now," I say again, this time for myself.
I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did.
I don't. — Veronica Roth

Christ, he was a cipher.
For the first time, he worried if he could be worthy enough for Mariketa. Did he even deserve her? Yes, she was a witch, but she was also stunningly beautiful and brave and clever.
"I like football, too," he finally said.
"You've already told me, so that doesn't count."
"I love the color of your eyes."
She tucked a curl behind her pointed ear, sliding him the bewitching smile that made his heart punch the insides of his chest. "What's your favorite place to visit?"
He absently answered, "Wherever you are."
"Bowen, five things about you can't all be about me."
But you're the only good thing that I've got. "Why no'? — Kresley Cole

A: Is this the copy that you read as a kid?
E: Yes. Look at the edges--that turquoise color. It's lighter along the top, from where the sun hit it. Now look at this gorgeous color here, the long edge. Beautiful. Makes me nostalgic.
A: For what?
E: I don't know. The age of turquoise page edges. Somewhere there's a grad student doing her dissertation on the inks used in twentieth-century mass-market paperbacks. — Ed Park

It was a dream, not a nightmare, a beautiful dream I could never imagine in a thousand nods. There was a girl next to me who wasn't beautiful until she smiled and I felt that smile come at me in heat waves following, soaking through my body and out my finger tips in shafts of color and I knew somewhere in the world, somewhere, that there was love for me. — Jim Carroll

I looked around me at the beautiful sunrise and I was thinking, Yes, yes, everything will be beautiful like this now. I will never be afraid again. I will never spend another day trapped in the color gray. — Chris Cleave

YOUR GENES ARE RUNNING THE SHOW If you're anything like me, I know you're champing at the bit to get going on Diet Evolution, but hold your horses. I've found that most of us can stick to a program only if we understand how and why we got to our present state of affairs. The next four chapters will do just that. You can thank Mom and Dad for your beautiful baby blues, as well as your hair color, height, and build. All these traits were encoded in copies of their genes - half of them her's, the other half his - that now reside in your body. Any children you have will in turn have copies of half of your genes and half of your partner's, and so on through generations to come. Determining — Steven R. Gundry

Does a flower really have beauty?
Does a fruit really have beauty?
No: they have only color and form
And existence.
Beauty is the name of something that doesn't exist
But that I give to things in exchange for the pleasure they
give me.
It means nothing.
So why do I say about things: they're beautiful? — Fernando Pessoa

It's such a beautiful sport, with no politics involved, no color, no class. Only as a youngster can you play and as a pro can you win. The game has kept me young, involved and excited and for me to be up here with gems of baseball. — Jack Buck

You're so beautiful. Your eyes are like the water you see in those pictures of paradise. A color that can't be described because a word for it can't do it justice. And your hair is gold, like the sun. You're my paradise, Blue. You and Ark are all I have left."
"I'm yours, JD. If you want me, I'm yours."
"No, Blue," he whispers back. "You're ours. — J.A. Huss

She went on to Seishin University, the famous women's private college, and studied abroad in France for two years. A couple of years after she got back I had a chance to see her, and when I did, I was floored. I'm not sure how to put it, but she seemed faded. Like something that's been exposed to strong sunlight for a long time and the color fades. She looked much the same as before. Still beautiful, still with a nice figure ... but she seemed paler, fainter than before. It made me feel like I should grab the TV remote to ramp up the color intensity. It was a weird experience. It was hard to imagine that someone could, in the space of just a few years, visibly diminish like that. — Haruki Murakami

If I had the money, I would love to open up a movie theater that just played images and colors and beautiful music. For me, there's nothing like listening to a beautiful opera sometimes - on a record or seeing it live - just to be sleepy and let those beautiful voices take me somewhere I've never been before. — Peter Stormare

The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing ... like molten gold. I could paint those ... " He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful." -Bloodlines — Richelle Mead

I like manning the trolley and cooking the bake goods. And I like walking into town before the sun rises because I get to see sunset as it moves over the lake at the edge of town. Just then, all alone, it's me and my lovely-smelling biscuits and cookies and God in the quiet as He paints brilliant swirls of color across the sky. It's as if all that's beautiful and peaceful and good is filling up my world, and all the ugliness is set aside for a while. — Eden Butler

Teach me to sing and recite,
To whistle and jingle and strum.
Teach me to color and paint,
To sculpt and weave and create.
Teach me to sway and dance,
To tap and leap and twirl.
Teach me to laugh and giggle,
To tickle and play and pretend.
Teach me that life is beautiful. — Richelle E. Goodrich

I don't know what it is that comes over me, but suddenly I'm crossing to his side of the table and sitting down in his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. His lips are soft against mine, and when I part them he tenderly obliges, tasting me delicately. His fingers prod at my back, never going further than the small indent at the base of the spine, and it's all very lovely and nice.
"I think I could get used to you," I say, looking down into his beautiful brown eyes, deep like the color of autumn.
(From "Undone, The Romance of Nick and Layla [Part 5"]). — Crystal Cierlak

I will not service your sister," he told her flatly, unable to think of anything else to say.
Elina laughed. "She does not want servicing. At least not from you."
"But when I came into your room earlier - "
"It gets cold on Steppes. We share beds. We share food. We do not share cocks. There is no cock sharing among the Daughters of the Steppes. That is disgusting."
"So then earlier . . ."
"She was inviting you to nap with us, like our brothers and cousins sometimes do. But not fuck."
"Oh."
"You sound disappointed."
"No. Just depressingly relieved."
"What?"
"Beautiful sisters invite me to bed - I usually dive in headfirst. A little time away with you and suddenly I'm . . . my father."
"I like your father. Now he is charming. You are dolt with ineffective travel-cow and cousin that keeps trying to dress me like doll."
"Is that where you got that eye patch from?"
"Yes."
"It's a nice color on you. — G.A. Aiken

The angel tumbles down to Earth into my own personal realm of lust, hedonism and shame. With eyes the color of the ocean and her halo of fire burning as bright as the desert sun, she speaks to me. And while she is raw and sullied, tainted by this beautiful hell, her words breathe life into the darkest, loneliest parts of me. — S.L. Jennings

She sat up, cheeks flushed and golden hair tousled. She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache. I always wished desperately that I could paint her in these moments and immortalize that look in her eyes. There was a softness in them that I rarely saw at other times, a total and complete vulnerability in someone who was normally so guarded and analytical in the rest of her life. But although I was a decent painter, capturing her on canvas was beyond my skill.
She collected her brown blouse and buttoned it up, hiding the brightness of turquoise lace with the conservative attire she liked to armor herself in. She'd done an overhaul of her bras in the last month, and though I was always sad to see them disappear, it made me happy to know they were there, those secret spots of color in her life. — Richelle Mead

A great free joy surges through me when I work ... with tense slashes and a few thrusts the beautiful white fields receive their color and the work is finished in a few minutes. — Clyfford Still

People think that the word "class" involves the color black, wearing Chanel No. 5 and carrying a Louis Vuitton. The word "class" and "classy", to me, mean what happens when you are able to be thankful, able to give and be a true friend to anybody regardless of their background and where they come from. That's class. It's a beautiful wave that washes away faults and paints things in a graceful light. You can't always do this, though. Sometimes you just need to slap someone. Still, you can slap someone with a lot of poise and that makes all the difference. — C. JoyBell C.

It's so easy for me to get caught up in the feeling of a city like Venice, where everything is just beautiful color and gorgeous buildings that are so peaceful. You can roam around and get lost in the labyrinth. — Nanette Lepore

Pink is like the one color I say I hate, and yet somehow I end up wearing it. Like, Michael Kors sent me a pink dress, and I'm like: 'So beautiful!' And I'm wearing it telling him 'I hate pink, why am I wearing this? It's really nice though.' — Kate Mara

You have shoes to match."
"I do?"
"You do, yes, and go with diamonds. Leave the color to the dress."
"Which diamonds? Do you know how many you give me? Why do you do that?"
The aggrieved sound of her voice amused him nearly as much as giving her diamonds. "It's a sickness. I'll get them for you once you're dressed."
She said nothing, and stood where she was as he selected a dark suit from his forest of suits, a slate-colored shirt, and a stone-colored tie.
"How come you don't wear color?"
"The better to serve as the backdrop for my beautiful wife."
She narrowed her eyes. "You had that one ready."
"The truth is always ready."
She jabbed a finger at him. "That one, too."
"Such a cynic. — J.D. Robb

I put both hands on his chest and backed him up a pace. The black sky behind him was filled with color. I said, "Go. Hurry. You can still help. You're missing it."
He pulled me close again and gazed down at me, tracing one finger so tenderly along my cheekbone. His finger was black, and he might be leaving an attractive black
streak across my skin. I didn't mind. The way he was looking at me with those light blue eyes, I had never felt more beautiful.
He bent his head close to my ear again so I could hear him whisper, "I'm not missing anything — Jennifer Echols

But the nice man had cold eyes. When interacting with his fascinated lady-harem, they had been blue. But when he turned his attention to me - however briefly - I could have sworn that they turned gray, the color of water beneath a sky from which snow will soon fall. — Stephen King