#colors

Nothing Stay Forever" "Nature’s first green is gold, "Her hardest hue to hold. "Her early leaf’s a flower; "But only so an hour. "Then leaf subsides to leaf. "So Eden sank to grief, "So dawn goes down today. "Nothing gold can stay. -- Robert Frost ↗

— S.E. Hinton

#poetry #nature

Black is not sad. Bright colors are what depresses me. They’re so… empty. Black is poetic. How do you imagine a poet? In a bright yellow jacket? Probably not. ↗

— Ann Demeulemeester

#colors #depressing #imagination

My drawings at first were made altogether in watercolors, but they wanted softness and a great deal of finish. ↗

— John James Audubon

#deal #drawings #finish #first #great

Vocations which we wanted to pursue, but didn't, bleed, like colors, on the whole of our existence. ↗

— Honore de Balzac

#colors #existence #like #our #pursue

You don't want a million answers as much as you want a few forever questions. The questions are diamonds you hold in the light. Study a lifetime and you see different colors from the same jewel. ↗

— Richard Bach

#colors #diamonds #different #different colors #few

I've tried everything. I've done therapy, I've done colonics. I went to a psychic who had me running around town buying pieces of ribbon to fill the colors in my aura. Did the Prozac thing. ↗

— Jim Carrey

#aura #buying #colors #did #done

I find that acrylics dry very fast - which is supposed to be its charm; however, I find that because of that quality they don't blend as nicely as the oils. The oils, for one thing, are softer and more flexible than the acrylics. Also, the colors are brighter with oils. ↗

— Boris Vallejo

#because #blend #brighter #charm #colors

Things could change, Gabe," Jonas went on. "Things could be different. I don't know how, but there must be some way for things to be different. There could be colors. And grandparents," he added, staring through the dimness toward the ceiling of his sleepingroom. "And everybody would have the memories." "You know the memories," he whispered, turning toward the crib. Garbriel's breathing was even and deep. Jonas liked having him there, though he felt guilty about the secret. Each night he gave memories to Gabriel: memories of boat rides and picnics in the sun; memories of soft rainfall against windowpanes; memories of dancing barefoot on a damp lawn. "Gabe?" The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked over at him. "There could be love," Jonas whispered. ↗

— Lois Lowry

#gabriel #love #change

As she always did on any really important day, Penelope Hayes wore red. ↗

— Anna Godbersen

#colors #fashion #red #fashion

Sometimes when I write lyrics there are images in them, usually on a quite simplistic level, like colors. But most often music comes first and then later I sit down with visual people and we chat about what we want to do. I don't look at myself as a visual artist. I make music. ↗

— Bjork

#artist #chat #colors #comes #down