Quotes about Blue

To be green is to reject right and left, and to be green is definitely not blue or red.

Who can know these and, other myriad children of Chaos and old night, who can know the awe the horror and the majesty of earth, yet be content with the blue sky alone.  Not I for one.  I love the love lit dome above, I cannot live without mine own particular star; but my foot is on the earth and I wish to walk over it until my wings be grown.  I will use my microscope as well as my telescope.  And oh ye flowers, ye fruits, and, nearer kindred yet, stones with your veins so worn by fire and water, and here and there disclosing streaks of golden ore, let us know one another before we part.  Tell me your secret, tell me mine.  To be human is also something?

The moon is quite a show off given the chance.  The stars make a sound when they shine so bright.  Water so blue and so black.

There is a town in north Ontario,
With dream comfort memory to spare,
And in my mind
I still need a place to go,
All my changes were there.

Blue, blue windows behind the stars,
Yellow moon on the rise,
Big birds flying across the sky,
Throwing shadows on our eyes.

My river runs to thee:
Blue sea, wilt welcome me?

It might be easier
   To fail with land in sight,
That gain my blue peninsula
   To perish of delight.

To see Void vast infinite
look out the window
into the blue sky.

Goodnight moon.  Sweet dreams.  Smile kindly upon this little blue gum ball of us while we sleep.

My life has been a tapestry
Of rich and royal hue;
An everlasting vision
Of the ever-changing view;
A wondrous woven magic
In bits of blue and gold;
A tapestry to feel and see;
Impossible to hold.

The blue colour is everlastingly appointed by the Deity to be a source of delight; and whether seen perpetually over your head, or crystallised once in a thousand years into a single and incomparable stone, your acknowledgment of its beauty is equally natural, simple, and instantaneous.

Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams?

I held a blue flower in my hand, probably a wild aster, wondering what its name was, and then thought that human names for natural things are superfluous.  Nature herself does not name them.  The important thing is to know this flower, look at its color until the blueness becomes as real as a keynote of music.

And the day climbs down from its blue loft-bed on a slanting ladder of sunbeams, pauses a moment between the trees, airy-light, young.

in the blue night
frost haze, the sky glows
with the moon
pine tree tops
bend snow-blue, fade
into sky, frost, starlight.
the creak of boots.
rabbit tracks, deer tracks,
what do we know.

It's very difficult to explain the effect the first blues record I heard had on me, except to say that I recognized it immediately.  It was as if I were being reintroduced to something that I already knew, maybe from another, earlier life.  For me there is something primitively soothing about this music, and it went straight to my nervous system, making me feel ten feet tall.

There's an emptiness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
And though it's red blood bleeding from her now
It's more like cold blue ice in her heart

We can do better than this. If we believe and if we do it together. All of us. The Fallen and the Forgiven. The Lawyer and the Ditch Digger. The Boho and the Soho. Atheists and Christians and Jews and Muslims. Red and Blue. Purple and White. Yellow and Black. The fight is not with each other, but in our riven hearts. Those riven hearts we can't bear to look inside.

Inebriate of Air - am I -
And Debauchee of Dew -
Reeling - thro endless summer days -
From inns of Molten Blue -