blue

Gray.The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.Gray...

Let the blue of the sky and ocean take your blue away when you feel blue

One soft humid early spring morning driving a winding road across Mount Tamalpais, the 2,500-foot mountain just north of the Golden Gate Bridge, a bend reveals a sudden vision of San Francisco in shades of blue, a city in a dream, and I was filled with a tremendous yearning to live in that place of blue hills and blue buildings, though I do live there, I had just left there after breakfast.

For many years, I have been moved by the blue at the far edge of what can be seen, that color of horizons, of remote mountain ranges, of anything far away. The color of that distance is the color of an emotion, the color of solitude and of desire, the color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go. For the blue is not in the place those miles away at the horizon, but in the atmospheric distance between you and the mountains.__onging,_ says the poet Robert Hass, __ecause desire is full of endless distances._ Blue is the color of longing for the distances you never arrive in, for the blue world.

With the first jolt he was in daylight; they had left the gateways of King__ Cross, and were under blue sky. Tunnels followed, and after each the sky grew bluer, and from the embankment at Finsbury Park he had his first sight of the sun. It rolled along behind the eastern smokes _ a wheel, whose fellow was the descending moon _ and as yet it seemed the servant of the blue sky, not its lord. He dozed again. Over Tewin Water it was day. To the left fell the shadow of the embankment and its arches; to the right Leonard saw up into the Tewin Woods and towards the church, with its wild legend of immortality. Six forest trees _ that is a fact _ grow out of one of the graves in Tewin churchyard. The grave__ occupant _ that is the legend _ is an atheist, who declared that if God existed, six forest trees would grow out of her grave. These things in Hertfordshire; and farther afield lay the house of a hermit _ Mrs. Wilcox had known him _ who barred himself up, and wrote prophecies, and gave all he had to the poor. While, powdered in between, were the villas of business men, who saw life more steadily, though with the steadiness of the half-closed eye. Over all the sun was streaming, to all the birds were singing, to all the primroses were yellow, and the speedwell blue, and the country, however they interpreted her, was uttering her cry of __ow. _ She did not free Leonard yet, and the knife plunged deeper into his heart as the train drew up at Hilton. But remorse had become beautiful.

__he Emersons who were at Florence, do you mean? No, I don__ suppose it will prove to be them. It is probably a long cry from them to friends of Mr. Vyse__. Oh, Mrs. Honeychurch, the oddest people! The queerest people! For our part we liked them, didn__ we?_ He appealed to Lucy. __here was a great scene over some violets. They picked violets and filled all the vases in the room of these very Miss Alans who have failed to come to Cissie Villa. Poor little ladies! So shocked and so pleased. It used to be one of Miss Catharine__ great stories. __y dear sister loves flowers,_ it began. They found the whole room a mass of blue _ vases and jugs _ and the story ends with __o ungentlemanly and yet so beautiful._ It is all very difficult. Yes, I always connect those Florentine Emersons with violets.__

It's a bird of some sort. It's like a duck, only I never saw a duck have so many colors."The bird swam swiftly and gracefully toward the Magic Isle, and as it drew nearer its gorgeously colored plumage astonished them. The feathers were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail.

We be light, we be life, we be fire! We sing electric flame, we rumble underground wind, we dance heaven! Come be we and be free!

We are all swimmers before the dawn of oxygen and earth. We all carry the memory of that breathable blue past.

Blue is a tranquilizer, imparting coolness to your system. Blue slows down your system so it can heal and mend. Positive qualities of blue are willpower, aspiration, and reliability. Foods of the blue vibration are: grapes, blackberries, blue plums, blueberries, and any other blue fruits or vegetables.

Indigo, the deep blue contains an abundance of sapphires shining their light through the density, awakening and stirring our consciousness. In the daylight the sea will change, but for now it remains mysterious, obtainable through our imagination.

Horror is a shock, a time of utter blindness. Horror lacks every hint of beauty. All we can see is the piercing light of an unknown event awaiting us. Sadness, on the other hand, assumes we are in the know... The light of horror thus lost its harshness, and the world was bathed in a gentle, bluish light that actually beautified it.

Ever since the other boy had arrived half way through the semester, he'd been so blue, he was practically iridescent.

Sometimes it's your fragrance that comes to me, out of the blue, on a crowded road in a Sunday afternoon.But more often, it's memories of us that cross my mind almost every lone evening.All I want is to lessen the pain I feel every night.But every morning I wake up is another day, hopeless and miserable, with nothing but a deafening silence, a wave of tears, memories and your absence.

Kingsley nodded. 'Of course. Sophia always did say wisdom had to be earned.

None of the shades of blue can paint the character of few men.

238. I want you to know, if you ever read this, there was a time when I would rather have had you by my side than any one of these words; I would rather have had you by my side than all the blue in the world.239. But now you are talking as if love were a consolation. Simone Weil warned otherwise. __ove is not consolation,_ she wrote. __t is light._240. All right then, let me try to rephrase. When I was alive, I aimed to be a student not of longing but of light.

It's the colors that will make you stray. They sing to you, the not-blue and the searing light, and no matter how tightly you tie yourself to the inbetween, eventually you will break free.No one swims only in the shallow water.