Inspirational Colour Quotes & Sayings

A smile is the most beautiful colour in the world. — Xingyun

And that historical moment when the young Aphrodite held Poseidon's magnificent phallus in her small hand & squeezed it was the greatest event of the universe since the Big Bang. It was the moment when Eros, separated from Himeros & Chaos in the Big Bang, were reunited, to become one again. And all who were there saw Aphrodite's girdle changed its colour from a passion red to orange, & then to gold, the colour of Love. — Nicholas Chong

Life is more interesting when you colour outside the lines — Sonya Watson

I am ME ...
I am Special Becoz I am Unique,
I am the Stardust which everyone seek.
I am the Light and the Hope,
Walking on an Everlasting Rope..
I am Hugs and Sometimes Tears,
I am the Sky, the Sea and the Earth.
I am the Colour No One can Name..
I Trust Yet I Fear ...
I Hide yet I don't hold anything back,
I am Free ...
I am the Words " I Love You"
I am swirls of Red , Pink and Blue. — Neha Donald

The reason why human beings fail to create real connections with others, is due to the fact that they are not first real within themselves. If you want your connection with another to be real, then you must first make sure that you are real in yourself, thus giving the other person a genuine ground to anchor into. People colour themselves different shades that do not match their own, and then they are surprised why they fail to create lasting relationships with other people! You must be the shade that you are, because the shades that you paint on will all wash off eventually, anyway. Be the shade that you are, and attract the people that like the real hue of you. — C. JoyBell C.

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

The more familiar acquaintance we have with God the more do we partake of him. He that passes by the fire may have some gleams of heat, but he that stands by it has his colour changed. It is not possible that a man should have any long conference with God and be no whit affected. If we are strangers to God it is no wonder that our faces become earthy. — William Bramwell

science feeds our perpetual curiousity and claims that nothing exists until 'proven'. Science cannot prove the existence or non-existence of the human soul any more than a thermometer can prove the colour red or King Henry the eight could discourse on electronics. — Bryan Islip

The way a bubble will float along gracefully and let every colour shine from within it until it suddenly bursts and is never to be seen again. Maybe that is the beauty of beauty. It does not last and therefore, forces us to appreciate it whilst we still can. — Amelia Mysko

There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against another. — Edouard Manet

AUNT SHADIE:
I see you - and don't worry, you're not white.

ROSE:
I'm pretty sure I'm white. I'm English.

AUNT SHADIE:
White is blindness - it has nothing to do with the colour of your skin. — Marie Clements

God is colourblind. But we are not God. God does not need to see colour and difference. God is far bigger than all of that. We are human. We are destined to grow and learn from each other and with each other and there is no growing, there is no learning, there is no wonder and no majesty in life if we were like God. We were meant to see colour and difference.To deny these is to lack respect. To blind ourselves to these is to fool one another. To shun these is to deny ourselves growth and knowledge. — C. JoyBell C.

Henry had written a novel because there was a hole in him that needed filling, a question that needed answering, a patch of canvas that needed painting - that blend of anxiety, curiosity and joy that is at the origin of art - and he had filled the hole, answered the question, splashed colour on the canvas, all done for himself, because he had to. Then complete strangers told him that his book had filled a hole in them, had answered a question, had brought colour to their lives. The comfort of strangers, be it a smile, a pat on the shoulder or a word of praise, is truly a comfort. — Yann Martel

Wisdom teaches us to do, as well as to talk; and to make our words and actions all of a colour. — Seneca The Younger

Nothing you ever go through will be wasted. The mountain top or valley experiences would all someway add up to bring colour to God's plan for your life. — Jamie Larbi

I am an absurd idealist. But I believe that all that must come true. For, unless it comes true, the world will be laid desolate. And I believe that it can come true. I believe that, by the grace of God, men will awake presently and be men again, and colour and laughter and splendid living will return to a grey civilisation. But that will only come true because a few men will believe in it, and fight for it, and fight in its name against everything that sneers and snarls at that ideal. — Leslie Charteris

I hated the mountains and the hills, the rivers and the rain. I hated the sunsets of whatever colour, I hated its beauty and its magic and the secret I would never know. I hated its indifference and the cruelty which was part of its loveliness. Above all I hated her. For she belonged to the magic and the loveliness. She had left me thirsty and all my life would be thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it. — Jean Rhys

I love football. I love the aesthetics of football. I love the athleticism of football. I love the movement of the players, the antics of the coaches. I love the dynamism of the fans. I love their passion for their badge and the colour of their team and their country. I love the noise and the buzz and the electricity in the stadium. I love the songs. I love the way the ball moves and then it flows and the way a teams fortune rises and falls through a game and through a season. But what I love about football is that it brings people together across religious divides, geographic divides, political divides. I love the fact that for ninety minutes in a rectangular piece of grass, people can forget hopefully, whatever might be going on in their life, and rejoice in this communal celebration of humanity. The biggest diverse, invasive or pervasive culture that human kinds knows is football and I love the fact that at the altar of football human kind can come worship and celebrate. — Andy Harper

Her fine high forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like an armorial shield, burst into lovelocks and waves and curlicues of ash blonde and gold. Her eyes were bright, big, clear, wet and shining, the colour of her cheeks was real, breaking close to the surface from the strong young pump of her heart. Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood
she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her. — F Scott Fitzgerald

Embrace it. Live it. Life's too short. Even looking at it from my end, when I've had more chances than many, I wish
actually even more so now
that I could go back and tinker with a few things ... do a little more of this, a little less of that. But the things about which I feel no regret are those that I did with passion. Those things I remember in living colour. The good and the bad. The rest have faded to black and white. They don't matter. Maybe they never did. — Ella J. Fraser

I've shrunk but I haven't lost my colour — Jonathan Dunne

Four years ago the clocks started turning back. I open my eyes and see nothing. I feel nothing below or above me. I feel the absence of things. The absence of my flesh, my bones, my body, my mind. All that is left is awareness. I see nothing but the absence of colour. It's not a black darkness. It's simply nothing. The interior of a black hole. I recall news of a black hole lingering along the edges of our solar system. All that time ago. Four years ago. When the clocks started turning back. I hear nothing. Until there is a something. A small thing. A voice. I listen. There are more voices. The sounds are human. How long has it been since I've heard a human? The sounds scratch along my now present attention. They carve into my hearing. They are horrid, wretched things. Voices screaming. Growing loud and desperate. How many voices? Billions. This is the birth of our species. We are born screaming. It's all we know to do. We have screamed for eternity. Within this empty space. — F.K. Preston

Cram nailed his colours to the mast and threw down the Great Pretender — Ron Pickering