#rainbow

It’s true—there are only, like, two songs about rainbows, including that one. He should be asking why there are so few songs about rainbows. ↗

— Cheryl Cory

#funny #humor #kermit #muppets #music

In life, you either choose to sing a rainbow, or you don't. Keep singing. ↗

— Kathleen Long

#life #motivational #rainbows #singing #inspirational

Sometimes it's important to work for that pot of gold. But other times it's essential to take time off and to make sure that your most important decision in the day simply consists of choosing which color to slide down on the rainbow. ↗

— Douglas Pagels

#freedom #freedom-of-thought #liberated #living-life #rainbow

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain. ↗

— Dolly Parton

#i #i see #put #rain #rainbow

Somewhere, over the rainbow, Way up tall, There's a land where they've never heard of cholesterol. ↗

— Allan Sherman

#heard #land #never #over #rainbow

They sang the words in unison, yet somehow created a web of sounds with their voices. It was like hearing a piece of fabric woven with all the colors of a rainbow. I did not know that such beauty could be formed by the human mouth. I had never heard harmony before. ↗

— Anita Diamant

#rainbow #song #beauty

There is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. ↗

— Karen Black

#gold #pot #rainbow

How many colours are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of 'green'? How many rainbows can light create for the untutored eye? ↗

— Stan Brakhage

#colours #crawling #create #eye #field

I remember opening my dad's closet and there were, like, 40 suits, every color of the rainbow, plaid and winter and summer. He had two jewelry boxes full of watches and lighters and cuff links. And just... he was that guy. He was probably unfulfilled in his life in many ways. ↗

— Jon Hamm

#closet #color #dad #every #full

I’d felt this before, when my granddad was in the hospital before he died. We all camped out in the waiting room, eating our meals together, most of us sleeping in the chairs every night. Family from far-flung places would arrive at odd hours and we’d all stand and stretch, hug, get reacquainted, and pass the babies around. A faint, pale stream of beauty and joy flowed through the heavy sludge of fear and grief. It was kind of like those puddles of oil you see in parking lots that look ugly until the sun hits them and you see rainbows pulling together in the middle of the mess. And wasn’t that just how life usually felt—a confusing swirl of ugly and rainbow? ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#death #depression #family #glass-girl #grief