Blue And Grey Quotes

#1. His eyes found hers in the dark. They were a storm of blue and grey, at times bright and at others almost colorless. He tipped his head wordlessly in the direction of his chambers, and she followed.

Victoria Schwab

#2. Now he understood. He had dreamed about her countless times, on that same staircase, with that same blue dress and that same movement of her ash-grey eyes, without knowing who she was or why she smiled at him.

Carlos Ruiz Zafon

#3. When your eyes freeze behind the grey window and the ghost of loss gets in to you, may a flock of colours, indigo, red, green and azure blue come to awaken in you a meadow of delight.

John O'Donohue

#4. Instead of blue skies and sunshine, there are grey clouds and endless rain that seeps into your bones, your soul.

Cathy Cassidy

#5. I'd never beat you black and blue. I aim for pink.
Christian Grey

E.L. James

#6. Love someone and they're yours forever, no matter how much time intervenes, that's what Margaret Grey knew. The sky will always be blue; the wind will always rise up across the meadow and thread its way through the grass.

Alice Hoffman

#7. We just wanted a perfect life, with perfect smiles and perfect blue skies, but instead, we ended up with the gloomy grey clouds and thunderstorms.

Shanora Williams

#8. ...and so many colors
I will have seen...
the menacing greys
and pine greens
the soft pink and purples
of spring
and summer blue
and so many others
without you.

Sanober Khan

#9. Who'd give up sunny California for the grey old Earls Court Road? I'm looking out at blue skies and the mountains and trees, and it's so beautiful.

Patrick Macnee

#10. He offered me his free hand, clear blue eyes sparkling. "Come on ... let's go find ourselves the perfect tree."
I took his hand and leaned into his shoulder. Didn't he know I'd go anywhere with him?

S.R. Grey

#11. What they would see first would be a darkening of the sky in the east - a change from empty blue to a grey-white that would gradually shade into a heavy, inky purple. And then there would be a wind - the wind that preceded a storm and carried the smell of rain on its breath.

Alexander McCall Smith

#12. I began to long, as I had before, for some special smell, some special music that would fill me, lift me up and carry me away, float me off the rocks of my body and sweep me into some wideness, some vast expanse of blue-grey nothingness.

Denton Welch

#13. The walls are white, the track is grey, the grass is green, and the sky is blue ... your job is to keep them all where they belong.

Johnny Rutherford

#14. Who needs a blue sky when he's unhappy? Robert was right. The sky whether grey or blue, is cold and unemotional, and ultimately even the sun is only a fireball that, unaffected by everything going on here below on Earth, simply spews in masses of magma into space.

Nicolas Barreau

#15. A black man, but I feel so blue. So I smoke green and purple to my dreams come true. And my eyes turn red, the sky turns grey.

Ludacris

#16. Instead of the bright, blue sky of America, I am covered with the soft, grey fog of the Emerald Isle. I breathe, and lo! the chattel becomes a man.

Frederick Douglass

#17. An uninterrupted view of the Paris skyline was spread out before her, like a giant landscape painting rendered in shades of blue-grey, charcoal and purple-tinted umber; the dreamy palette of shifting shadows at twilight. The blue hour.

Kathleen Tessaro

#18. He fell into step beside me and we both got into the Blue Beetle - he got in the red door. I got in the white one, and we peered out over the grey hood[ ... ]

Jim Butcher

#19. I use very little red. I use blue, yellow, a little green, but especially ... black, white and grey. There is a certain need in me for communication with human beings. Black and white is writing.

Hans Arp

#20. I write very simple and very naked. That's why it wounds. I'm a grey and blue landscape. I rise in a dry fountain and in the cold light.

Clarice Lispector

#21. It was a grey September day, with the blue and copper butterflies flitting in the after-grass, the partridges calling like crickets, the blackberries colouring, and the hazel nuts still nursing their tasteless little kernels in the cradles of cotton wool.

T.H. White

#22. Arran's grey-blue eyes opened and they were clear and bright. He smiled at Maxie. 'I love you, Mum,' he said quietly and he died in Maxie's arms.

Charlie Higson

#23. Houses, trees and fields of flax once flourished here. Summers had been blue with flowers. Now it was a shallow sea of stinking grey from end to end. And this is where you fought the war.

Timothy Findley

#24. Waking At Night
The blue river is grey at morning
and evening. There is twilight
at dawn and dusk. I lie in the dark
wondering if this quiet in me now
is a beginning or an end.

Jack Gilbert

#25. They smoke cigarettes professionally. The smoke is inhaled very sharply and the teeth are bared.Then the head turns to give you a profile and the smoke is exhaled slowly and deliberately and the grey jet stream becomes a beautiful blue cloud of smoke.What are they trying to tell us?

Jeffrey Bernard

#26. He had imagined Scotland as being a soft place, all gentle heathery hills, but here on the north coast everything seemed sharp and jutting, even the grey clouds that scudded across the pale blue sky. It was as if the bones of the world showed through.

Neil Gaiman

#27. Her hair was grey and curly, her eyes a soft blue, her body seeming

Jane Green

#28. Cyphus bears the blue flame. Stercus is in thrall of iron. Ferule chill and dark of eye. Usnea lives in nothing but decay. Grey Dalcenti never speaks. Pale Alenta brings the blight. Last there is the lord of seven: Hated. Hopeless. Sleepless. Sane. Alaxel bears the shadow's hame.

Patrick Rothfuss

#29. Rough and dark is often the veil of the soul, while within, so pure and transparent. Like the grey crust upon ice, that, when severed, reveals within a pure blue light, like the transparent ether. Thus remain veiled to the stranger, but be not concealed from thyself.

Jean Paul Friedrich Richter

#30. Every time she meets him, she feels like he was a new paper ready to be drawn. And she could clearly remember how the first time she met him, he was like a sketch paper filled with grey and blue and black, all mixed up together forming a confusing storm,

Basma Salem

#31. And what a man he is. Tall, but not too tall. Five o'clock shadow. Late twenties, early thirties. Piercing blue eyes. Short, brown hair that juts forward, matching his angular face. He's wearing an untucked, button-down white shirt and dark-grey slacks. He looks disheveled in the best way possible.

Samantha Riley

#32. Boys have to wear brown, grey and blue and girls have to wear the beautiful colours.

Claire King

#33. I shall sit alone in a darkened room, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything but a little grey old head, and in that little grey old head a peculiar vision of hideous blue and gold dangling things flashing in the light, and the smell of sweat, cat food and death.

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