Yellow Quotes - Page 15

• It is so appropriate to color hope yellow, like the sun we seldom saw. And as I begin to copy from the old memorandum journals that I kept for so long, a title comes as if inspired. 'Open the Window and Stand in the Sunshine.' Yet, I hesitate to name our story that. For I think of us more as flowers in the attic.

  Virginia C. Andrews

  Flower, Sunshine, Thinking

  Virginia C. Andrews (2004). “Flowers in the Attic”

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• One day as Father and I were returning from our walk we found the Grote Markt cordoned off by a double ring of police and soldiers. A truck was parked in front of the fish mart; into the back were climbing men, women, and children, all wearing the yellow star. . . . "Father! Those poor people!" I cried. . . . "Those poor people," Father echoed. But to my surprise I saw that he was looking at the solders now forming into ranks to march away. "I pity the poor Germans, Corrie. They have touched the apple of God's eye.

  Corrie Ten Boom

  Stars, Children, Father

  Corrie ten Boom, Elizabeth Sherrill, John Sherrill (2006). “The Hiding Place”, p.85, Chosen Books

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• Colours change: in the morning light, red shines out bright and clear and the blues merge into their surroundings, melting into the greens; but by the evening the reds loose their piquancy, embracing a quieter tone and shifting toward the blues in the rainbow. Yellow flowers remain bright, and white ones become luminous, shining like ghostly figures against a darkening green background.

  Rosemary Verey

  Change, Morning, Flower

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• Crowley had been extremely impressed with the warranties offered by the computer industry, and had in fact sent a bundle Below to the department that drew up the Immortal Soul agreements, with a yellow memo form attached just saying: "Learn, guys..."

  Neil Gaiman

  Agreement, Guy, Soul

  "Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch". Book by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, May 1, 1990.

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• How many times do I love, again?
  Tell me how many beads there are
  In a silver chain
  Of evening rain
  Unravelled from the trembling main
  And threading the eye of a yellow star:-
  So many times do I love again.

  Thomas Lovell Beddoes

  Love, Life, Valentines Day

  Thomas Lovell Beddoes, “Song From Torrismond”

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• I was woundering what he would say, what word could sum me up right then, when i saw the lights come across his face, blaringly yellow, and suddenly he was brighter, and brighter, and i asked him what was happening, what was wrong. I remember only that light, so strong it spilled across my shoulders, and lit up his face, and how scared he looked as something big and loud hit my door, sending glass shattering across me, little sparks catching the light like diamonds, as they fell, with me, into the dark.

  Sarah Dessen

  Strong, Dark, Glasses

  Sarah Dessen (2003). “How to Deal”, Puffin

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• For some time she observed a great yellow butterfly, which was opening and closing its wings very slowly on a little flat stone. "What is it to be in love?" she demanded, after a long silence; each word as it came into being seemed to shove itself out into an unknown sea. Hypnotized by the wings of the butterfly, and awed by the discovery of a terrible possibility in life, she sat for some time longer. When the butterfly flew away, she rose, and within, her two books beneath her arm returned again, much as a soldier prepares for battle.

  Virginia Woolf

  Book, Butterfly, Discovery

  Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.157, Delphi Classics

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• The entire room was so yellow that it looked like the sun had thrown up on the walls and wiped its mouth afterward on the dresser and curtains. ---Cole

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Wall, Mouths, Rooms

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “Linger”, p.124, Scholastic Inc.

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• What a luxury a cat is, the moments of shocking and startling pleasure in a day, the feel of the beast, the soft sleekness under your palm, the warmth when you wake on a cold night, the grace and charm even in a quite ordinary workaday puss. Cat walks across your room, and in that lonely stalk you see leopard or even panther, or it turns its head to acknowledge you and the yellow blaze of those eyes tells you what an exotic visitor you have here, in this household friend, the cat who purrs as you stroke, or rub his chin, or scratch his head.

  Doris Lessing

  Lonely, Cat, Eye

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• Light is good company, when alone; I took my comfort where I found it, and the warmest yellow bulb in the living-room lamp had become a kind of radiant babysitter all its own.

  Aimee Bender

  Light, Comfort, Lamps

  Aimee Bender (2011). “The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake”, p.122, Random House

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• That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened the next tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss . . .

  Robert Browning

  Pain, Eye, Kissing

  'Porphyria's Lover' (1842) l. 38

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• The intruder hesitated, turned, and anchored itself in the corner, where the ceiling met the wall. It sat there, fastened to the paneling by enormous yellow talons, still and silent like a gargoyle in full sunlight. I took a swig from the bottle and set it so I could still see the creatures reflection. Nude and hairless, it didn't carry a single ounce of fat on its lean frame. Its skin stretched so tight over the cords of muscle, it threatened to snap. Like a thin layer of wax melted over an anatomy model. Your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.

  Ilona Andrews

  Wall, Reflection, Friendly

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• Geric," she called. He turned back around. "What kind of flowers were they?" "I don't rightly know," he said. He made faltering gestures with his hands, forming their size and shape from the air. "They were yellow, and smallish, and had lots of petals." "Thank you," she said. "They were beautiful.

  Shannon Hale

  Beautiful, Flower, Air

  Shannon Hale (2010). “The Goose Girl”, p.187, A&C Black

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• After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth...The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her...In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible.

  Elizabeth George Speare

  Autumn, Jewels, Color

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• The kitchen was bright, cheerful yellow, the walls decorated with framed chalk and pencil sketches Simon and Rebecca had done in grade school. Rebecca had some drawing talent, you could tell, but Simon's sketches of people all looked like parking meters with tufts of hair.

  Cassandra Clare

  Wall, School, Hair

  Cassandra Clare (2012). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls”, p.487, Simon and Schuster

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• Red was the blood of the siblings massacred in the North, black was for mourning them, green was for the prosperity Biafra would have, and, finally, the half of a yellow sun stood for the glorious future.

  Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

  Sibling, Blood, Mourning

  FaceBook post by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie from Mar 20, 2011

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• She never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm 'i th' bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pinned in thought; and, with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more; but indeed our shows are more than will; for we still prove much in our vows but little in our love.

  William Shakespeare

  Grief, Men, Bud

  'Twelfth Night' (1601) act 2, sc. 4, l. [108]

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• Soon I am seeing the blue-and-yellow flags that line the campus streets, and it makes me feel happy and sad at the same time to be back at La Salle--almost like looking at old pictures of people who have either died or with whom you have lost contact.

  Matthew Quick

  Blue, People, Flags

  Matthew Quick (2010). “The Silver Linings Playbook: A Novel”, p.243, Macmillan

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• I just go with the flow, I follow the yellow brick road. I don't know where it's going to lead me, but I follow it.

  Grace Jones

  Flow, Bricks, Brick Roads

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• Looking ahead, future generations may learn their social skills from robots in the first place. The cute yellow Keepon robot from Carnegie Mellon University has shown the ability to facilitate social interactions with autistic children. Morphy at the University of Washington happily teaches gestures to children by demonstration.

  Daniel H. Wilson

  Cute, Children, Skills

  "I (Robot) Thee Wed". www.slate.com. May 04, 2012.

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• At present I absolutely want to paint a starry sky. It often seems to me that night is still more richly coloured than the day; having hues of the most intense violets, blues and greens. If only you pay attention to it you will see that certain stars are lemon-yellow, others pink or a green, blue and forget-me-not brilliance. And without my expatiating on this theme it is obvious that putting little white dots on the blue-black is not enough to paint a starry sky.

  Vincent Van Gogh

  Stars, Night, Blue

  Vincent van Gogh (2014). “Delphi Complete Works of Vincent van Gogh (Illustrated)”, p.2897, Delphi Classics

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• Thin clouds form, and the shadows lengthen out. They have no breadth, as summer shadows have; there are no leaves on the trees or fat clouds in the sky to make them thick. They are gaunt, mean shadows that bite the ground like teeth. As the sun nears the horizon, its benevolent yellow begins to deepen, to become infected, until it glares an angry inflamed orange. It throws a variegated glow over the horizon.

  Stephen King

  Summer, Mean, Sky

  Stephen King (2000). “Salem's Lot”, p.368, Simon and Schuster

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• a cloud-congested caul that is alternately red, orange, vermilion, purple. Sometimes the clouds break apart in great, slow rafts, letting through beams of innocent yellow sunlight that are bitterly nostalgic for the summer that has gone by.

  Stephen King

  Summer, Purple, Orange

  Stephen King (2000). “Salem's Lot”, p.368, Simon and Schuster

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• Her sister's shoes. They sparkeled even in the darkening afternoon. They sparkeled like yellow diamonds, and embers of blood and thorny stars.

  Gregory Maguire

  Stars, Blood, Shoes

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• There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into sun

  Pablo Picasso

  Inspiring, Wisdom, Art

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