Quotes & Sayings About Scarlet

Do you often make meals for outlanders, Miss Click?" There was teasing in his tone and in his astonishing eyes. Scarlet, she looked down at her apron, now soiled by three spots of coffee, a bit lost in the richness of his speech. "You've yet tae call me Doctor, which I dinna mind in the least. But it tells me you are questioning my credentials. And those eyes of yours demand I must somehow prove myself, pass a test. Like your faither did when he ran the Shawnee gauntlet." "You read that in the papers, I reckon." "Aye. Is it true?" She nodded. "He carried the scars to his grave." "So he passed the test. Will I? — Laura Frantz

Do you think it's weird to kiss someone you barely know?"
No, it's perfectly normal and gives us a fantastic excuse to make out. Kiss me!
"Totally weird," she said, immediately wanting to slap herself.
He nodded slowly. "Me too." Scarlet's heart sank a little. Gabriel flashed his dimples. "I guess now I've got a good reason to get to know you, don't I?"
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. "Who said I'd let you kiss me even if you got to know me?"
He nodded his head with a smile. "Challenge accepted. — Chelsea Fine

Let's pick it up," the man behind her said. "How many more of the tranquilizers do you have?"
"Just three," the girl panted.
"Gonna have to restock."
"Right. I'll just ... head down ... to the convenience store, and-" she didn't finish, the strain too much. — Marissa Meyer

Could they be other than the insidious whispers of the bad angel, who would fain have persuaded the struggling woman, as yet only half his victim, that the outward guise of purity was but a lie, and that, if truth were everywhere to be shown, a scarlet letter would blaze forth on many a bosom besides Hester Prynne's? Or, — Nathaniel Hawthorne

Do you think she is?" Her voice trembled. Her heart throbbed as she waited for him to answer. "You think they've killed her?"
Every moment wrapped around Scarlet's neck, strangling her, until the only possiblbe word from Wolf's mouth had to be yes. Yes, she was dead. Yes, she was gone. They'd murdered her. These monsters had murdered her.
Scarlet pressed her palms into the crate, trying to push through the plastic. "Say it."
"No," he murmured, shoulder sinking, "No, I don't think they've killed her. Not yet."
Scarlet shivered with relief. She covered her face with both hands, dizzy with the hurricane of emotions. "Thank the stars," she whispered. "Thank you. — Marissa Meyer

She didn't say anything - at least, not with her mouth. Her eyes told me a different story. The only problem was that they each had a thousand tongues talking, each in a language I didn't speak. — J.X. Burros

He (the British soldier) is generally beloved by two sorts of Companion, in whores and lice, for both these Vermin are great admirers of a Scarlet Coat. — Richard Holmes

Scarlet cocked her head. "Are you sure you don't want me to go? It's going to require some precise manuvering to attach to the docking clamp, and from what Cinder told me about your flying skills ... "
"What do you mean? What did Cinder say about my flying skills?"
Scarlet and Cinder shared a look. "Naturally, she told me that you're a fantastic pilot," said Scarlet, "Absolutely top-notch."
"I think she was practicing her sarcasm," said Iko.
Thorne glared, but Cinder only shrugged. — Marissa Meyer

Scarlet found herself pinned beneath his gaze, intense and terrified. He was still breathing hard. She was still shaking, couldn't stop shaking. Her mind emptied of everything but the gusting wind and how fragile Wolf looked in that heartbeat, like one movement could break him open. "I'm all right," she assured him again, wrapping her free arm around his back and pulling him toward her until she could curl up beneath the shelter of his body, burying her head against his neck. She felt his gulp, then his arms were around her, crushing her against his chest. — Marissa Meyer

Your power, your great gift, is that you never give up. When something fails you make a new plan, and another, and another. You never accept defeat. You never give up. — A.C. Gaughen

I know what it's like when you can't get no one to listen to you. When what you say don't matter. I half think every girl knows what it's like to be silenced. — A.C. Gaughen

I would have killed everyone of them to get to you. I would have done anything to get you back. Knowing that we were coming here was the only thing that kept me sane." His brow creased. "Though there were a couple times when I went a little insane anyway. — Marissa Meyer

Once I saw torches with dancing flames of scarlet and radiant gold held by solemn apes. A man with the horns and muzzled face of a bull bent over me, a constellation sprung to life. I spoke to him and found myself telling him that I was unsure of the precise date of my birth, that if his benign spirit of meadow and unfeigning force had governed my life I thanked him for it; then remembered that I knew the date, that my father had given a ball for me each year until his death, that it fell under the Swan. He listened intently, turning his head to watch me from one brown eye. — Gene Wolfe

We had a signal. When I turned the pail upside down by the kitchen house, that meant everything was clear. Mauma would open the window and throw down a taffy she stole from missus' room. Sometimes here came a bundle of cloth scraps - real nice calicos, gingham, muslin, some import linen. One time, that true brass thimble. Her favorite thing to take was scarlet-red thread. She would wind it up in her pocket and walk right out the house with it. — Sue Monk Kidd

From scarlet to powdered gold, to blazing yellow, to the rare ashen emerald, to the orange and black velvet of your shimmering corselet, out to the tip that like an amber thorn begins you, small, superlative being, you are a miracle, and you blaze — Pablo Neruda

Sing, Muse, of high, molded ceilings and built-in bookcases chockablock with hardcovers! Sing of armchairs with scarlet upholstery and highboys lacquered like mirrors and the elegant shadows of potted palms! Sing of a chandelier made entirely of antlers! Of what looked to be a genuine Matisse on the wall above the hearth! — Garth Risk Hallberg

Could he possibly believe a purple tunic over a butler- yellow shirt and scarlet pants became him. — Hilari Bell

And because Scarlet loved pancakes ... That's what he would do. Make pancakes and flee. — Chelsea Fine

Scarlet finally built us a landing pad beside the hangar so Thorne would stop flattening her crops." She glanced toward the cockpit. "I hope he didn't miss it." They could hear Thorne's growl from the cockpit. "I didn't miss it!" The — Marissa Meyer

My life is nothing more than bad timing separated by unimaginable moments of tragedy. I'd reconciled my pain with the promise of revenge ... until her. — Jewel E. Ann

Final Disposition

Others divided closets full of mother's things.
From the earth, I took her poppies.
I wanted those fandango folds
of red and black chiffon she doted on,
loving the wild and Moorish music of them,
coating her tongue with the thin skin
of their crimson petals.

Snapping her fingers, flamenco dancer,
she'd mock the clack of castanets
in answer to their gypsy cadence.
She would crouch toward the flounce of flowers,
twirl, stamp her foot, then kick it out
as if to lift the ruffles, scarlet
along the hemline of her yard.

And so, I dug up, soil and all,
the thistle-toothed and gray-green clumps
of leaves, the testicle seedpods and hairy stems
both out of season, to transplant them in my less-exotic garden. There, they bloom
her blood's abandon, year after year,
roots holding, their poppy heads nodding
a carefree, opium-ecstatic, possibly forever sleep. — Jane Glazer

A hundred years ago Hester Prynne of The Scarlet Letter was given an A for adultery; today she would rate no better than a C-plus. — Peter De Vries

How to describe hell? Disembowelled landscape busy with suffering, incessant heat, permanent scarlet twilight, a swirling snowfall of ash, the stink of pain and the din of ... if only, hell is two things: the absence of God and the presence of time. Infinite variations on that theme. Doesn't sound so bad, does it? Well, trust me. — Glen Duncan

Since then her life had been peaceful and happy. She had allowed herself to be worshipped by that strangely captivating lover of hers, whose passionately willful temperament, tempered by that persistent, sunny gaiety, she had up to now only half understood. — Emmuska Orczy

Wonderful!" I ejaculated. — Arthur Conan Doyle

A dicking? Is that what you want, Camille? Because if it is let me assure you that a dicking I can give but neither of those two ass-clowns will ever touch you again once I do. So unless you can make that choice; don't tease me, Precious. — Sai Marie Johnson

The art teacher's scarlet book was called Story of the Eye by Georges Bataille. 'As the title suggests,' Mr Dunwoody saw the book'd caught my attention, 'it's about the history of opticians. What are you about? — David Mitchell

Emperor, right." she retacked the curtain "That's weird to say, after eighteen years of listening to celebrity gossip feeds go on and on about 'Earth's favorite prince'". She claimed one of the lumpy sofa cushions, curling her legs beneath her. "I had a picture of him taped to my wall when I was fifteen. Grand-mere cut it off a cereal box."
Wolf scowled.
"Of course, half the girls in the world probably had that same picture from that same cereal box."
Wolf scrunched his shoulders against his neck, and Scarlet grinned, teasing. "Oh, no. You're not going to have to fight him for pack dominance now are you? Come here."
She beckoned him with a wave of her hand and he was at her side in half a second, the glower softening as he pulled her against his chest. — Marissa Meyer

A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement. Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast. I — Charlotte Bronte

Out of the black cave of time, terrible and swathed in scarlet, rose the image of his sin. — Oscar Wilde

All I need is the power to be able to protect my comrades. So long as I can have the strength to do that, I don't care if I'm weaker than everyone in the world. — Hiro Mashima

I know I was wrong. If i could go back and do it over, I would. I wish I could undo it all."
I know that." Grandma reached over and put a twisted hand on hers. "'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.' Isaiah one eighteen."
I've done terrible things."
Don't make no difference. You can't out-sin the cross. — Linda Nichols

When I heard about these lessons, I thought they would be a dreadful waste of my time. I pictured two very silly girls uninterested in any sort of instruction. But that describes neither Miss Gray nor yourself. I should tell you, I used to train younger Shadowhunters in Madrid. And there were quite a few of them who didn't have the same native ability that you do. You're a talented student, and it is my pleasure to teach you."
Sophie felt herself flush scarlet. "You cannot be serious."
"I am. I was pleasantly surprised the first time I came here and again so the next time and the next. I found that I was looking forward to it. In fact, it would be fair to say that since my return home, I have hated everything in London except these hours with you. — Cassandra Clare

Patience, friend. They're coming for you. — Marissa Meyer

Now, what I'm worried about is how we're going to be dividing the reward money when this is all over. Because this ship is starting to feel awfully crowded and I'm not sure I'm happy with all of you cutting into my profits."
"What reward money?" asked Scarlet.
"The reward Cinder's going to pay us out of the Lunar treasury once she's queen."
Cinder rolled her eyes. "I should have guessed. — Marissa Meyer

Out from the servient shoulders of some smooth-tongued Waiter it stares, into the scared dilating pupils of the White Satin Bride with her pledged hand clutching her Bridegroom's sleeve. Up from the gravelly, pick-and-shovel labor of the new-made grave it lifts its weirdly magnetic eyes to the Widow's tears. Down from some petted Princeling's silver-trimmed saddle horse it smiles its electrifying, wistful smile into the Peasant's sodden weariness. Across the slender white rail of an always out-going steamer it stings back into your gray, land-locked consciousness like the tang of a scarlet spray. And the secret of the face, of course, is "Lure"; but to save your soul you could not decide in any specific case whether the lure is the lure of personality, or the lure of physiognomy - a mere accidental, coincidental, haphazard harmony of forehead and cheek-bone and twittering facial muscles. — Eleanor Hallowell Abbott

She looked, and a scarlet butterfly flew away from her, away down the length of the tower, and then another, another, an unraveling scarf of butterflies like winged blood. — Tanith Lee

What," Scarlet breathed, clutching the bouquet, "is this?"
Wolf smiled around his canine teeth. "You are the most beautiful sight I have ever laid eyes on."
Scarlet cocked her head. "And you look like you're about to get married." There was blatant amusement in her tone. — Marissa Meyer

This is the worst problem with living history museums. They always leave the best parts out. Like typhus. And opium. And scarlet letters. Shunning. Witch-burning. — Chuck Palahniuk

Scarlet watched a leaf fall to the ground, lying dead amoung the other leaves on the forest floor. "A brief life seems pointless."
Tristan thought for a moment. "Isn't that what life is, though? A brief opportunity to exist? A short gift? — Chelsea Fine

History could pass for a scarlet text, its jot and title graven red in human blood. — Eldridge Cleaver

There was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a scarlet hood; and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited. "I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of — J.R.R. Tolkien

Wear scarlet! Tear the green lemons
off the tree! I don't want
to forget who I am, what has burned in me,
and hang limp and clean, an empty dress - — Denise Levertov

Mary Queen of Scots had a little dog, a Skye terrier, that was devoted to her. Moments after Mary was beheaded, the people who were watching saw her skirts moving about and they thought her headless body was trying to get itself to its feet. But the movement turned out to be her dog, which she had carried to the block with her, hidden in her skirts. Mary Stuart is supposed to have faced her execution with grace and courage (she wore a scarlet chemise to suggest she was being martyred), but I don't think she could have been so brave if she had not secretly been holding tight to her Skye terrier, feeling his warm, silky fur against her trembling skin. — Elizabeth Wein

Pluck up a spirit, and do not be all the time sighing and murmuring! — Nathaniel Hawthorne

Do you feel that, Brynlee? I should be in top physical shape from the cardio my heart gets. This is what has happened every time I've been around you for over two years, and baby, now that I've kissed these lips ... — Scarlet Wolfe

Ghost shook his head as he sat on the very edge of the bed, poised to take flight if need be. The spiral under his hair felt warm, almost painful, but he resisted the urge to rub it. It never helped when he did, and he was not sure what Gerry would do if the man saw it. The Witch had a symbol she called a triskele, the ink a vivid scarlet still, but no male that had ever come for healing bore a mark like hers, or like his. He had never found the words to ask the Witch about it, about why he was marked like a witch. — Morwen Navarre

How you, a weak boy caught in the middle of a storm, both in reality and metaphorically, would risk your life to save some girl - some girl who tortured you, ignored you, destroyed you. — J.X. Burros

Amusement touched the corner of his lips. "Animals love me."
"Oh, I'm sure they do," Scarlet said, beaming with fake encouragement. She shut the door before muttering, "What farm animals don't love a wolf? — Marissa Meyer

The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. — Nathaniel Hawthorne

It's all right," said Wolf. "You loved her. I would feel the same if someone wanted to erase Scarlet's identity and give it to Levana's army.
Scarlet stiffened, heat rushing into her cheeks. He certainly wasn't insinuating ...
"Aaaaw," squealed Iko. "Did Wolf just say that he loves Scarlet? That's so cute!"
Scarlet cringed. "He did not
that wasn't
" She balled her fists against her sides. "Can we get back to these soldiers that are being rounded up, please?"
"Is she blushing? She sounds like she's blushing."
"She's blushing," Thorne confirmed, shuffling the cards. "Actually, Wolf is also looking a little flustered
— Marissa Meyer

memorized all of it." He stroked her lips. "'Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet. . . . Thou hast ravished my heart. — Thea Harrison

He beat into her swiftly and powerfully as his hardness overflowed in her burning canyon. — Scarlet Chill

Sometimes the west showed clouds like tiny pink feathers; sometimes it showed purple mountains and green lakes; sometimes the clouds were scarlet with gold around the edges. Betsy — Maud Hart Lovelace

The ginger she-cat behind him is Scarlet, and the silver tabby is O'Hara. — Erin Hunter

You traitorous bitch!" he yelled. "You goddamn liar!"
I laughed. "You knew I were a bitch and a liar when you married me, Guy. It's your own damn fault for agreeing to it. — A.C. Gaughen

Scarlet ... " Silas begins in a serious tone. He started using "the tone" when we were kids to remind me that he's older than I am. It annoys me just as much now as it did then, only now it's less acceptable for me to push him into the mud for it. — Jackson Pearce

You are obvious, boy. You are difficult to miss. If you came to me in company with a purple lion, a green elephant, and a scarlet unicorn astride which was the King of England in his Royal Robes, I do believe that it is you and you alone that people would stare at, dismissing the others as minor irrelevancies. — Neil Gaiman

Liall realized that this was the first time he had really been alone with Scarlet.
He stood up and held out his hand. The blanket dropped from his shoulders. "Come here."
Scarlet reached out to him tentatively and Liall quickly dragged him into his arms. He fits there perfectly, Liall thought, snug if not a little small. Scarlet did not respond at first, as if he would pull away, and for a moment Liall believed he had made a huge mistake. Then, surprisingly, Scarlet sighed and his arms went around Liall's back. Scarlet turned his head to rest his cheek against Liall's bare chest as hey listened to the rain batten on the roof.
"Thank you for saving my life." Liall murmured. — Kirby Crow

Cursing, Scarlet pressed the unlock mechanism again. Nothing. Then the control panel pinged, startling her, and a message scrolled across the top. BE CAREFUL, SCARLET. Her jaw fell. What - ? — Marissa Meyer

Oh. Momma told me not to tell you that your bed squeaks. But I think you know, 'cause I could hear it this morning. Jake dropped his fork. Tor, for the first time Jake had ever seen, turned scarlet. Maureen looked at them both and sighed. Christmas is always so interesting with you, Mark. — Chris Owen

And maybe she had certain beliefs that if you love somebody, [you're] gonna like them too. And that isn't necessarily true. — Tori Amos

Self-publishing in comics is core to the whole artform. There is no scarlet letter in comics as there still is, to some degree, in prose. As no publisher for a long time would publish serious work in comics, the only way a lot of it came out was because of self-publishing. Many of the greatest works of the medium are self-published. — Kieron Gillen

Oh great, you too. So now I wear this label 'Queer' emblazoned across my chest. Or I could always carve a scarlet 'L' on my forehead. Why does everyone have to put you in a box and nail the lid on it? I don't know what I am - polymorphous and perverse. Shit. I don't even know if I'm white. I'm me. That's all I am and all I want to be. Do I have to be something? — Rita Mae Brown

I hate mourning," she said. "It always smells of moth balls because it's been laid up somewhere." "You don't need to go on wearing mourning. It's only to go to the funeral in," said Tommy. "Oh no, I know that. In a minute or two I'm going to go up and put on a scarlet jersey just to cheer things up. You can make me another White Lady." "Really, Tuppence, I had no idea that funerals would bring out this party feeling. — Agatha Christie

When finally she had stopped trembling, Scarlet peeled herself away from him. The vice of his arms reluctantly let her go and she dared to meet his gaze again. The shocked horror had left him, replaced with heat and longing and uncertainty. And fear, so much fear, but she didn't think it had anything to do with her nearly falling off the train. Lips tingling, she arched her neck toward him. — Marissa Meyer

Oh confound that gray-and-scarlet suit!" Sophie said. "I refuse to believe that I was the one that got caught with it! — Diana Wynne Jones

Laura would never be so easily intimidated. She was braver than he could ever be, brave enough to wave her ugly scars like scarlet flags. — Tess Gerritsen

On this evening, Mme. Padva wears a dress of black silk, hand embroidered with intricate patterns of cherry blossoms, something like a kimono reincarnated as a gown. Her silver hair is piled atop her head and held in place with a small jeweled black cage. A choker of perfectly cut scarlet rubies circles her neck, putting forth a vague impression of her throat having been slit. The overall effect is slightly morbid and incredibly elegant. — Erin Morgenstern

Style icons feel like they have to be so thin, and when I see somebody with a fuller figure like Scarlet Johansson, who is sexy and happy, I find it such a relief. — Jade Jagger

I knew all too well the damage of scarlet ink smeared across page-after-page ... — Jazz Feylynn

You know my belief in bald-headed Fortune, with the one solitary hair. Well, I meant to grab that hair ... — Emmuska Orczy

I don't think so, dude. Gabriel would kill me. And then Scarlet would kill me. And they could just keep on killing me over and over again because I don't ever die. Do you know how much that would suck? — Chelsea Fine

What about you?" Scarlet asked. "You have to enjoy the fear, too. Just a little?"
"Not the fear," Han said. "I just like being a little smarter than the next guy."
"That's all it is?"
"That, and I really hate paying taxes. — James S.A. Corey

I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of a bitterness I thought long dead. I think myself cured of all spite, but when I touch pen to paper, the hurt of a boy bleeds out with the sea-spawned ink, until I suspect each carefully formed black letter scabs over some ancient scarlet wound. — Robin Hobb

September is a sweep of dusky, purple asters, a sumac branch swinging a fringe of scarlet leaves, and the bittersweet scene of wild grapes when I walk down the lane to the mailbox. September is a golden month of mellow sunlight and still clear days ... Small creatures in the grass, as if realizing their days are numbered, cram the night air with sound. Everywhere goldenrod is full out. — Jean Hersey

This is Winter," said Scarlet. "Princess Winter."
Thorne guffawed and pushed a hand into his hair. "Are we running a boardinghouse for misplaced royalty around here, or what? — Marissa Meyer

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Hair: brown. Lips: scarlet
Age: five thousand three hundred days. — Vladimir Nabokov

God damn it, Andre'. I'm about fucking sick of this jacked up shit! Things are going to go my way or else I won't bring the pretty little fucking mannequin to any more of our play dates! Barbie will get locked away under my fucking key! — Sai Marie Johnson

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. — Bliss Carman

When I was 6, a family friend gave me E.L. Konigsburg's 'A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver' and launched me on a full-blown Eleanor obsession. I wanted to ride off on Crusade, to launch a thousand troubadour songs, to marry a king - and then jilt him and marry another. — Lauren Willig

Mary and Carrie and baby Grace and Ma had all had scarlet fever. The Nelsons across the creek had had it too, so there had been no one to help Pa and Laura. — Laura Ingalls Wilder

Don't worry kitties. There's plenty of Daddy to go around. — Sai Marie Johnson

Scarlet hummed thoughtfully, then dragged her knuckle against the tiniest scar on his lip. "What about - " His hand snatched at her, stilling her caresses. His grip was not harsh, but unforgiving all the same. "Please stop," he said, even as his gaze fell to her lips. Scarlet licked them instinctively, saw his eyes grow frantic. "What's wrong?" A heartbeat. "Wolf?" He didn't release her. — Marissa Meyer

If truth were everywhere to be shown, a scarlet letter would blaze forth on many a bosom ... — Nathaniel Hawthorne

I am I, I am he. We are, but I am I, first I am I, I will defend being I until I am unable to fight any longer. I am I, Atalia. Ego. Yo. A professional degree, an Argentine, a scarlet fingernail, pretty sometimes, big dark eyes, I. Atalia Donosi, I. Yo. Yo-yo, windlass and hawser. Funny. — Julio Cortazar

Thorne waved his hand. "They already showed the clips. And now you've achieved the dream of every red-blooded girl under the age of twenty
five"
"Right, my life is a real dream come true."
Thorne wiggled his eyebrow. "Maybe not, but at least dreamy Prince Kai knows your name. — Marissa Meyer

When Rapunzel saw the prince, she fell over him and began to weep, and her tears dropped into his eyes — Marissa Meyer

Scarlet O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw. Her eyes were pale green without a touch of hazel, starred with bristly black lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. Above them, her thick black brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in her magnolia-white skin-that skin so prized by Southern women and so carefully guarded with bonnets, veils and mittens against hot Georgia suns. — Margaret Mitchell

Yes, Sangre de Cristo; but no matter how scarlet the sunset, those red hills never became vermillion, but a more and more intense rose-carnelian; not the colour of living blood, the Bishop had often reflected, but the colour of the dried blood of saints and martyres preserved in old churches in Rome, which liquefies upon occasion. — Willa Cather

At the last, Viserys looked at her. "Sister, please ... Dany, tell them ... make them ... sweet sister ... "
When the gold was half-melted and starting to run, Drogo reached into the flames, snatched out the pot. "Crown!" he roared. "Here. A crown for Cart King!" And upended the pot over the head of the man who had been her brother.
The sound Viserys Targaryen made when that hideous iron helmet covered his face was like nothing human. His feet hammered a frantic beat against the dirt floor, slowed, stopped. Thick globs of molten gold dripped down onto his chest, setting the scarlet silk to smoldering ... yet no drop of blood was spilled.
He was no dragon, Dany thought, curious calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon. — George R R Martin

All the unhallowed beauty I have found; All free - discordant shrills and form-defying wonders above ground, like writhen trees with draggled foliage struggling along the courses of wayback creeks; scarlet - and - green sky - streaking parrot - fires with parrot shrieks echo - shattering the shoulders of the hills; and desert - sunset - rage Rage for my mind, be clamant, do not cease you are my holiest habitat of peace. — Rex Ingamells

Apes are apes, though clothed in scarlet. — Ben Jonson

He blinked up at Scarlet. "Did you just shoot me? — Marissa Meyer

Love makes you stupid. Love makes you weak. Love will kill you all one day, and it's going to kill you today. — J.X. Burros

Many of you remember The Scarlet Letter, the novel that wardrobed its protagonist in a stigma or sign of reproach. But "A" is not the only letter a person can feel she is wearing. Some of us have looked like we spilled alphabet soup on our sweaters. Beloved, if you are wearing any kind of reproach from your past - especially if victimization has placed a letter there that never belonged on you - may God remind you of the cross of Christ and memorialize the victory it brought you. Let Him cut that old piece of fabric from your life, roll it in the blood of Jesus, and cast it away forever. — Beth Moore

he whispered. "Scarlet." With — Marissa Meyer

Judge Chargin's judgment derided Mexicans as animalistic and without morals, and I believed myself to belong to that herd of depraved subhumans of which he spoke. Yet, the activists and leaders in our community who took positions against him gave me another perspective. Their actions allowed me to interrogate and resist the scarlet mark that Chargin so venomously stamped on my people and me. — Josie Mendez-Negrete

What is Africa to me: Copper sun or scarlet sea, Jungle star or jungle track, Strong bronzed men, or regal black Women from whose loins I sprang When the birds of Eden sang? — Countee Cullen

The planet, saved for another day, stokes up
its slow-burning gases and toxic dust, gold rift and scarlet
gash that take our breath away; a world at its interminable
show of holy dying. And we go with it, the old
gatherer and hunter. To its gaudy-day, though the contribution
is small, adding our handsel of warm clay. — David Malouf