Yellow Quotes

Quotes tagged as "yellow" (showing 1-30 of 36)
Richelle Mead
“Abe swept in, resplendent in a gray and yellow suit that coordinated bafflingly well with Adrian's paint job.”
Richelle Mead, Bloodlines

J.D. Salinger
“It's no fun to be yellow. Maybe I'm not all yellow. I don't know. I think maybe I'm just partly yellow and partly the type that doesn't give much of a damn if they lose their gloves. One of my troubles is, I never care too much when I lose something - it used to drive mother crazy when I was a kid. Some guys spend days looking for something they've lost. I never seem to have anything that if I lost it I'd care too much. Maybe that's why I'm partly yellow. It's no excuse, though. It really isn't. What you should be is not yellow at all.”
J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

Donna Tartt
“And I'm hoping there's some larger truth about suffering here, or at least my understanding of it - although I've come to realize that the only truths that matter to me are the ones I don't, and can't, understand.

What's mysterious, ambiguous, inexplicable. What doesn't fit into a story, what doesn't have a story. Glint of brightness on a barely-there chain. Patch of sunlight on a yellow wall. The loneliness that separates every living creature from every other living creature. Sorrow inseparable from joy.”
Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

Karl Lagerfeld
“I had an interview once with some German journalist—some horrible, ugly woman. It was in the early days after the communists—maybe a week after—and she wore a yellow sweater that was kind of see-through. She had huge tits and a huge black bra, and she said to me, ‘It’s impolite; remove your glasses.’ I said, ‘Do I ask you to remove your bra?”
Karl Lagerfeld

A.A. Milne
“Daffodowndilly

She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
"Winter is dead.”
A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

Megan Jacobson
“I'm still shy," I admit, pulling the sleeves over my hands, "and I might always be, I don't know, but I think you can be shy and still feel okay about yourself at the same time.”
Megan Jacobson, Yellow

Megan Jacobson
“Do not define me by my gender or my socio-economic status, Noah Willis. Do not tell me who I am and do not tell me who society thinks I am and then put me in that box and expect me to stay there. Because, I swear to God, I will climb the hell out of that box and I will take that box you've just put me in and I will use that box to smash your face in until you're nothing more than a freckly, bloodied pulp. You got that, sweet cheeks?”
Megan Jacobson, Yellow

Wallace Stevens
“The yellow glistens.
It glistens with various yellows,
Citrons, oranges and greens
Flowering over the skin.”
Wallace Stevens

Markus Zusak
“All told, she owned fourteen books, but she saw her story as being made up predominantly of ten of them. Of those ten, six were stolen, one showed up at the kitchen table, two were made for her by a hidden Jew, and one was delivered by a soft, yellow-dressed afternoon.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

R.L. Stine
“This was a normal town once, and we were normal people. Most of us worked at the plastics factory on the outskirts of town. Then one day there was an accident... something escaped from the factory, a yellow gas. It floated over the town so fast that we didn't see it, didn't realize... and then it was too late, and Dark Falls wasn't a normal town anymore.”
R.L. Stine, Welcome to Dead House

“Yellow is the colour of the sun.
Blue is the colour of the sky.
Green is the colour of grass.
Brown is the colour of your eyes.
Black is the colour of the night.
Orange is the colour of truth.
Red is the colour of love.
And...
Rainbow is the colour of you.”
Anthony T. Hincks

“There is no shortage of well-known pirates, including: Henry Morgan, Captain Kidd, Blackbeard, Blue beard, Yellowbeard, and Yellow beard with Black Roots, who surmised that, if blondes have more fun, then blond pirates must have a heck of a lot more fun.”
Cuthbert Soup, Another Whole Nother Story

“Yellow makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over.”
Anthony T.Hincks

Rosie O'Donnell
“Fame stole my yellow. Yellow is the color you get when you're real and brutally honest. Yellow is with my kids[...]The bundle of bright yellow warming my core, formerly frozen and uninhabitable[...]They got yellow from me, and I felt yellow giving it to them and it was all good[...]So, why am I leaving my show? It took my yellow. I wanted it back. Without it I can't live. The gray kills me.”
Rosie O'Donnell, Celebrity Detox
tags: yellow

Akshay Vasu
“The sky inside my head never turns blue. It if forced to stay red. By the demon, who is yellow inside me.”
Akshay Vasu

Rebecca McNutt
“What are you doing?” Alecto asked in surprise, stepping back. Laughing brightly, she dragged him towards the greenhouse, the shattered glass reflecting rainbows as brilliant as a million Kodak flashcubes, glittering as they were cascaded through the breeze. “See, don’t be afraid of the glass, it can’t hurt us,” Mandy laughed, spectacularly eccentric, her eyes reflecting the fallen glass.

“I wasn’t afraid of the glass, but this isn’t a very secluded place that you just decided to vandalize,” Alecto cautioned, smiling despite his words.

Before Mandy could reply, she heard loud whispering in the air, behind the trees… it sounded like a group of people, all whispering in unison… “Somebody’s out there,” she exclaimed nervously.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Alecto replied. Suddenly a sharp new vibrancy seemed to fill his eyes and he smiled coldly, taking the tree branch from Mandy and rapidly smashing in all of Mrs. Matthias’ stained glass house windows with it. Blue, green, yellow, red, turquoise, purple and an array of other colors showered through the sky noisily, sounding like wind chimes and crashing waves. “They’ll go away,” he told her, glancing up at the sky.

“…Alecto, do you like me?” Mandy questioned, holding out her arms like a lopsided scarecrow as the glass fell through her dark red hair.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered.

“Will you be my friend, then? A real friend, not just another person who feels sorry for me?” Mandy asked.

“…Alright, Mandy Valems,” Alecto agreed.”
Rebecca McNutt, Smog City

Megan Jacobson
“Because you don't get to choose your parents, , and at some point you realise that maybe your parents just aren't able to parent very well, but we exist, and the only choice we've got in the whole situation is whether we're gonna love them anyway. It's as simple and messy and complicated as that”
Megan Jacobson, Yellow

Megan Jacobson
“Because you don't get to choose your parents, K, and at some point you realise that maybe your parents just aren't able to parent very well, but we exist, and the only choice we've got in the whole situation is whether we're gonna love them anyway. It's as simple and messy and complicated as that”
Megan Jacobson

Sarah Jio
“Past their normal blooming season, the trees had shed many of their blossoms, but the ones that remained were vibrant and showy, like the finale of a fireworks show. Up close, the trees did not disappoint. I stared up in awe at a yellow blossom, touching its petals lightly and breathing in the balmy, lemony scent.”
Sarah Jio, The Last Camellia

Hanif Kureishi
“I’ve said it’s over for the white races, an obvious truth which caused much agitation amongst the journalists. The rich will rule as usual; they come in all colours, particularly yellow.”
Hanif Kureishi, The Last Word

Richard L.  Ratliff
“Daffodils are yellow trumpets of spring”
Richard L. Ratliff

Patrick Rothfuss
“It was all glimmer and warm honey in the yellow light.”
Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things

“Angel pushed the plate of cupcakes towards her guest, who had failed to comment on the colors- which were the colors of the Tanzanian flag- and had so far eaten only one: one of those iced in yellow that, on the flag, represented Tanzania's mineral wealth.”
Gaile Parkin, Baking Cakes in Kigali

Lisa Kleypas
“Daisy was wearing a butter-yellow gown that wrapped tightly around her slender waist and pushed the small, pretty shapes of her breasts upward into a low-cut bodice of gleaming, ruched satin. Yellow satin ribbons had been braided into artful ropes that held the bodice in place. Her black hair had been pulled to the top of her head with a few spiraling curls falling to her neck and shoulders. She looked delicate and perfect, like one of the artful sugared garnishes on the dessert tray that one was never supposed to eat.”
Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

Chico Buarque
“O Danúbio, pensei, era o Danúbio mas não era azul, era amarelo, a cidade toda era amarela, os telhados, o asfalto, os parques, engraçado isso, uma cidade amarela, eu pensava que Budapeste fosse cinzenta, mas Budapeste era amarela.”
Chico Buarque, Budapeste

Veronica Roth
“The Amity exchange smiles. They are dressed comfortably in red or yellow. Every time I see them, they seem kind, loving, free.”
Veronica Roth, Divergent

Tracy Guzeman
“She'd loved birds long before her physical limitations kept her grounded. She'd found a birding diary of her grandmother's in a trunk in the attic when she was Frankie's age, and when she asked her father about it, he dug through boxes on a shelf high above her head, handing down a small pair of binoculars and some field guides.
She'd seen her first prothonotary warbler when she was nine, sitting alone on a tupelo stump in the forest, swatting at mosquitoes targeting the pale skin behind her ears. She glanced up from the book she was reading only to be startled by an unexpected flash of yellow. Holding her breath, she fished for the journal she kept in her pocket, focusing on the spot in the willow where he might be. A breeze stirred the branches, and she saw the brilliant yellow head and underparts standing out like petals of a sunflower against the backdrop of leaves; the under tail, a stark white. His beak was long, pointed and black; his shoulders a mossy green, a blend of the citron yellow of his head and the flat slate of his feathers. He had a black dot of an eye, a bead of jet set in a field of sun. Never had there been anything so perfect. When she blinked he disappeared, the only evidence of his presence a gentle sway of the branch. It was a sort of magic, unveiled to her. He had been hers, even if only for a few seconds.
With a stub of pencil- 'always a pencil,' her grandmother had written. 'You can write with a pencil even in the rain'- she noted the date and time, the place and the weather. She made a rough sketch, using shorthand for her notes about the bird's coloring, then raced back to the house, raspberry canes and brambles speckling bloody trails across her legs. In the field guide in the top drawer of her desk, she found him again: prothonotary warbler, 'prothonotary' for the clerks in the Roman Catholic Church who wore robes of a bright yellow. It made absolute sense to her that something so beautiful would be associated with God.
After that she spent countless days tromping through the woods, toting the drab knapsack filled with packages of partially crushed saltines, the bottles of juice, the bruised apples and half-melted candy bars, her miniature binoculars slung across one shoulder. She taught herself how to be patient, how to master the boredom that often accompanied careful observation. She taught herself how to look for what didn't want to be seen.”
Tracy Guzeman, The Gravity of Birds

Deyth Banger
“Now I'm one point, yellow, green does it matter one from all, I''m like all, but If I do something like to go to jail for hacking, I will be part of the red once, and again and again, but question is how to be different?? How to be out of these groups??”
Deyth Banger

Susan Gilbert-Collins
“Light flooded their senses; for a split second Olivia, blinking in its brilliance, thought the light was actually yellow. Then she blinked again, and the room itself was yellow: yellow roses climbing the walls, a white and yellow canopy- of course, a canopy- matching the wadded silk bedspread, braided yellow rugs strewn across the bare wooden floorboards. Abby gave a little cry and ran to the curved windows opposite, where a riot of yellow and pink throw pillows lined the window seat.”
Susan Gilbert-Collins, Starting from Scratch

“Would a Violet Crumble taste the same if it was yellow?”
Anthony T.Hincks

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