Top 50 Green And Gold Sayings
#1. And I will trust that He who heeds
The life that hides in mead and wold,
Who hangs you alder's crimson beads,
And stains these mosses green and gold,
Will still, as He hath done, incline
His gracious care to me and mine.
John Greenleaf Whittier
#2. All the time she's silent. All the women were silent except the white one talking to Trent. If it wasn't for the red, green and gold and that the skirts are often denim, I'd think I was surrounded by Muslim women.
Marlon James
#3. Will cries out, low, a murmur of blue and green and gold. The syllables of my name float between us. I've never seen my name that way, in those colors, not from any other voice.
Megan Hart
#4. I was determined my 4,000th winner would be in the green and gold colours of J. P. McManus and trained by Jonjo O'Neill, who have been my greatest supporters.
Tony McCoy
#5. He went through the cupboards, found the olive oil, and started upstairs again. He glanced down at the green and gold label and had to bite back a laugh at the words Extra Virgin.
That about summed it up.
Josh Lanyon
#6. The sacred books of all the world are worthless dross and common stones compared with Shakespeare's glittering gold and gleaming gems.
Robert Green Ingersoll
#8. So green this summer and so fresh. There are white and gold daisies among the grass in front of an old wire fence, a meadow with some cows and far in the distance a low rising of the land with something golden on it. Hard to know what it is. No need to know.
Robert M. Pirsig
#9. We flew throughout the summer and fall and the start of winter. At first the whiteness gave way to the green of summer, and then gold covered the fields and forests, and then the whiteness again.
Anatoly Berezovoy
#10. A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;
While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars?-
Then you've a hunch was the music meant ... hunger and night and the stars.
Robert W. Service
#11. I belong to the Great Church which holds the world within its starlit aisles; that claims the great and good of every race and clime; that finds with joy the grain of gold in every creed, and floods with light and love the germs of good in every soul.
Robert Green Ingersoll
#12. Fear, prejudice, malice, and the love of approbation bribe a thousand men where gold bribes one.
Robert Green Ingersoll
#13. Sometimes the west showed clouds like tiny pink feathers; sometimes it showed purple mountains and green lakes; sometimes the clouds were scarlet with gold around the edges. Betsy
Maud Hart Lovelace
#14. All flesh is one: what matter scores; Or color of the suit Or if the helmet glints with blue or gold? All is one bold achievement, All is fine spring-found-again-in-autumn day When juices run in antelopes along our blood, And green our flag, forever green ...
Ray Bradbury
#15. So dawn goes dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay."
"without pain how could we know joy?"
"Come quickly I tasting the stars"
"I fell in love the way you fall asleep:slowly, and then all at once"
"What a slut time is she srews everybody.
John Green
#16. Slowly she surveyed her surroundings and took in the tiny gold lights glinting in every store window and the twin glass elevators decked in red and green bows. A banner hung from the second floor balcony, declaring ONLY SEVEN MORE SHOPPING DAYS TILL XMAS!
Carolyn Keene
#17. When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold, Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West, Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!
J.R.R. Tolkien
#18. She ran into the early-October afternoon. The light came at a low slant through the oaks across the street, gold and green, and how she loved that light. There was no light in the world like you saw in New England in early fall.
Joe Hill
#19. Above us hung a tapestry of silver and gold and palest green that in my world had faded into white: a great oak so entwined with ivy it had died, its bare branches pushing through the leaves like bone. I stared at the roses, wanting to hold my hands to such red, but like the light, they burned cold.
Patricia A. McKillip
#20. The horses wore no gear at all but a halter without bit. Their manes were braided with streamers of silver, gold, and green. They flared their nostrils and pranced and boasted to one another; they were vastly excited, the horse being the only animal who has adopted our ceremonies as his own.
Ursula K. Le Guin
#21. The sunset was a massive canvas of gold and orange, green and rose, gray and indigo and blue. It reminded him of beaches on the North American west coast, except there were no vendors clogging the place and no advertising drones muttering about the joys of commerce.
James S.A. Corey
#22. not everything green is gold. Not every finished puzzle is complete. And for every misplaced jigsaw, there is a puzzle out there still holding your space. Finally, after one search ends, a new one always begins. Always.
Paulette Benjamin
#23. America is old tobacco: gold and green. It's lush and literally feels like wealth, like optimism, turn of the century America where everything was blooming.
Guillermo Del Toro
#24. Oh for a book and a shady nook, Either indoors or out, with the green leaves whispering overhead, or the street cries all about. Where I may read at all my ease both of the new and old, For a jolly good book whereon to look is better to me than gold
John Wilson
#25. Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson, Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green. Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen.
William C. Bryant
#26. So what do we do?" Alec whispered.
Magnus shrugged and smiled suddenly; with his messy black hair and the gleam in his gold-green eyes, he looked like a mischievous teenager. "what everyone else does," he replied. "Like you said. Hope.
Cassandra Clare
#27. And that infrequent and devastating smile - and eyes just the color of a Scottish loch at sunset, sort of green-gold, like summer bracken or polished cairngorm.
Josh Lanyon
#28. Magnus glared at him out of gold-green eyes. "If I wanted to lie on a couch and
complain to someone about my parents, I'd hire a psychiatrist."
"Ah," said Jace. "But my services are free."
"I heard that about you.
Cassandra Clare
#29. He feels it, too. His eyes widen. A lovely hazel. Green with flecks of brown and gold. The colors I love. The colors of the earth.
Sophie Jordan
#30. Shy gold begins to peep through the sombre green - the wattle's wedding dress - and Spring is near. Then suddenly it seems, one golden morning, the Bush awakes, a living thing. Flowers bloom, birds sing, and all the world puts on its gayest dress to greet the laughing Spring.
C. J. Dennis
#31. For a summer of drug abuse on the island of Capri, she packed a wardrobe of black Morticia gowns, dyed her hair green, and paraded through the village streets with a crystal ball, followed by a retainer in gold body paint.
Scot D. Ryersson
#32. In this part of California, there is no fall or spring. Summer drops right into winter, into summer, back and forth. Our idea of autumn is October, where the leaves rapidly go from green to gold to on-the-ground, and it's suddenly freezing.
Kelley York
#33. Brown paper represents the primal twilight of the first toil of creation, and with a bright-coloured chalk or two you can pick out points of fire in it, sparks of gold, and blood-red, and sea-green, like the first fierce stars that sprang out of divine darkness.
G.K. Chesterton
#34. The lush green of the fields became a rich gold that swayed sturdily under the wind and fell at last before the hands of the reapers.
Martha Ostenso
#35. Already this sun was pouring its wrath into the blue Indian ocean where swordfish and marlin cruised like silver-blue attenuated warheads in their green-gold depths...
Mike Bond
#36. Only the soldier pines and sentinels still showed green; the broadleaf trees had donned mantles of russet and gold, or else uncloaked themselves to scratch against the sky with branches brown and bare.
George R R Martin
#37. It was sometimes inconvenient to have the gold-green, slit-pupilled eyes of a cat, but this was usually easily hidden with a small glamour, and if not, well, there were quite a few ladies-and men-who didn't find it a drawback.
Cassandra Clare
#38. You aristocratic ladies and your gold-plated twats. You always think it's such a honor for me to touch you." He surveyed her with mocking green eyes. "You think you're the first high-kick wench I've ever had? I used to have blue-blooded bitches like you pay me to do this. You've gotten it for free.
Lisa Kleypas
#39. For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.
Martin Luther
#40. The sun was setting over Rainbow Valley. The pond was wearing a wonderful tissue of purple and gold and green and crimson. A faint blue haze rested on the eastern hill, over which a great, pale, round moon was just floating up like a silver bubble. They
L.M. Montgomery
#41. If I hear 'Karma Chameleon' one more time, I swear I'm going to find Boy George and make him eat Jesse's record. What does red, gold, and green have to do with anything anyway? (Gloria)
Sherrilyn Kenyon
#42. The boy was twelve, reveling in the strange dust-smelling murk of a New Orleans library, watching motes flash gold in a beam of sun. He loved the ceiling lights on chains and the table lamps with their green glass shades. The room was as beautiful as another world.
Marly Youmans
#43. O lead me onward to the loneliest shade,
The darkest place that quiet ever made,
Where kingcups grow most beauteous to behold
And shut up green and open into gold.
John Clare
#44. She had large, wide-set green eyes, and long brown hair that curled slightly and turned to gold at the tips. She wore a long, straight blue dress that accentuated the slimness of her frame. She was perhaps an inch taller than Peter, and by the look of her she took baths.
Dave Barry
#45. Lorth spoke a word and came into focus, though he had learned from experience that his features, the ghost-pale skin of a Northman with the gold-green eyes of a wolf, were almost as unnerving to a Tarthian as the shadowy form of a cloaking spell.
F.T. McKinstry
#46. See the gold sunshine patching, And streaming and streaking across The gray-green oaks; and catching, By its soft brown beard, the moss.
Philip James Bailey
#47. Once, I sang colors to a blind man. Seven hours I played, but at the end he said he saw them, green and red and gold.
Patrick Rothfuss
#48. If the solar winds have stirred far off in the velvety night then showers of light
gold and violet. rose and green
paint the sky.
Kathleen Valentine
#49. The outdoor Christmas lights, green and red and gold and blue and twinkling, remind me that most people are that way all year round
kind, generous, friendly and with an occasional moment of ecstasy. But Christmas is the only time they dare reveal themselves.
Harland Miller
#50. The irony is that the more we fight age, the more it shows. Paint on a 50-year-old face brings to mind a Gilbert and Sullivan comic figure. Smooth the cheeks, and suddenly the ear lobes and hands look out of place. Do we run around in October, painting the gold leaves green?
Karen DeCrow
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