Top 1200 Red White And Blue Quotes & Sayings - Page 20

My sister, who is a wonderful and beautiful actress now, when she was 11 or 12, she would go out and take pictures of the punk parties in the desert. She used to have blue hair, and she got kicked out of Las Vegas Day School for having blue hair.

I'm happier on the runway than I am on the red carpet. Because then I am not being myself. I think, on the red carpet, it's a weird, like, 'Who am I? Am I me? Am I them?'

In it not easy to remain rational and normal mentally in such a setting where, even in our airport in Montgomery, there is a white waiting room... There are restroom facilities for white ladies and colored women, white men and colored men. We stand outside after being served at the same ticket counter instead of sitting on the inside.

People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.

Rick Neuheisel was recruiting me, and he told me something, and I'll never forget it: he said you make your money in the red zone. If you're down there, that's already three points, so don't turn the ball over. I kind of took that to heart, and I'm always very careful in the red zone.

I love Boston. I love Fenway Park. I love Red Sox history. But in no way am I a Red Sox fan.

Nothing is better for being Eternal Nor so white as the white that dies of a day.

If you're white and you're wrong, then you're wrong; if you're black and you're wrong, you're wrong. People are people. Black, blue, pink, green - God make no rules about color; only society make rules where my people suffer, and that why we must have redemption and redemption now.

I'm guilty of reverse discrimination. I'm white, and people don't think that white fighters are any good.

The government at all levels is overly represented by white men. That's part of the problem, and I'm a white man.

It is white. - when asked what the White house was like by a student in East London

Little Red Riding Hood was my first love. I felt that if I could have married Little Red Riding Hood, I should have known perfect bliss.

At first, the tornado is nearly invisible. Against the sky, it's white on white.

In places like Germany or France the idea of black-white is not so much black-white but "our people and them," and "them" can be people from the near east like Turks or Muslims or North Africans, all of whom might well be considered white in the United States.

White... is death. It's hospitals. It's my terrible nurses. White is absolute horror. It is just the worst.

Oh my luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June; Oh my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune.

A white nationalist would claim that flying the confederate flag on a state building is an expression of cultural history, rather than racial sentiment. A white nationalist would claim, as the television host Megyn Kelly once did on Fox News, that Jesus was white, and, by implication, God, too.

I love white walls because white reflects the light and is a great backdrop for art.

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where noone notices the contrast of white on white.

All my life I’ve pursued the perfect red. I can never get painters to mix it for me. It’s exactly as if I’d said, ‘I want rococo with a spot of Gothic in it and a bit of Buddhist temple’—they have no idea what I’m talking about. About the best red is to copy the color of a child’s cap in any Renaissance portrait.

I am a big fan of white sheets, hotel bedding and white towels!

Here's a helpful life tip. Stand by things that are white cuz it makes you look less white.

I don't like dressing up, and I don't like putting on make-up or doing the red carpet. The only red carpet events I go to are if I'm supporting a friend.

As a little girl in the '50s, I couldn't wear a purple-and-white flowered skirt with a red blouse - those colors were too loud. My parents were not into that 'We are Negros that wear all beige,' but there was a line you could walk over that could signal vulgar, crass, rather than clever use of color. And that outfit crossed over the line.

To me, it's really easy to feel glamorous and beautiful with red lips. It's great because you don't have to do anything else. I don't have to do anything to my face. I can have cleanly washed hair and if I just put on like a matte red lip, it just makes everything seem special.

Kindness. The only possible method when dealing with a living creature. You'll get nowhere with an animal if you use terror, no matter what its level of development may be. That I have maintained, do maintain and always will maintain. People who think you can use terror are quite wrong. No, no, terror is useless, whatever its colour – white, red or even brown! Terror completely paralyses the nervous system.

I think that white people were, no question, the creators of what we call white America.

As far as digital technology has come, there's still one thing that digital cameras won't do: give you perfect color every time. In fact, if they gave us perfect color 50% of the time, that would be incredible, but unfortunately every digital camera (and every scanner that captures traditional photos) sneaks in some kind of color cast in your image. Generally, it's a red cast, but depending on the camera, it could be blue. Either way, you can be pretty sure-there's a cast.

In the South we experienced, you know, some black kids who gave us a hard time because - cause 'you talk white.' We didn't talk white. We talked fairly proper. Plus, we had a Midwestern accent, so we didn't have a Southern accent, either. So it wasn't really talking white; it was talking different.

I'm sure there's somebody out there who doesn't like Betty White because she's short and has white hair.

In football, you get criticised if you are sent off. It's my style of play, and nobody can make me change that. Even if I get another red card, then that happens. You become cleverer, maybe look more, and since my red card, I think things have improved.

But my knowledge of Marxism was limited to knowing that Marx was a Jew, and that he had a long white beard. I said to Lunatcharsky (the political communist commissar for Education, 1918, fh) 'Whatever you do, don't ask me why I painted in blue or green, and why you can see a calf inside the cow's belly, etc. On the other hand you're welcome: if Marx is so wise, let him come back to life and explain it himself'. I showed him my canvases.

Generally speaking, rural drivers are a much better behaved species than city drivers. I'm not sure whether they're intrinsically this way, or there are just fewer opportunities for them to do behave badly. You can't go around running red lights if there aren't any red lights to run.

I think it is unnatural to think that there is such a thing as a blue-sky, white-clouded happy childhood for anybody. Childhood is a very, very tricky business of surviving it. Because if one thing goes wrong or anything goes wrong, and usually something goes wrong, then you are compromised as a human being. You're going to trip over that for a good part of your life.

I honestly realized that my dad was white when someone told me in middle school. They're like, 'Oh your dad's white?' I'm like, 'Oh, my gosh, he really is white.' I knew what race was, but it didn't matter to me.

My films are an extension of my poetry, using the white screen like the white page to be filled with images.

God said,--"Let there be light!" Grim darkness felt His might, And fled away; Then startled seas and mountains cold Shone forth, all bright in blue and gold, And cried--"'Tis day! 'tis day!" "Hail, holy light!" exclaim'd The thunderous cloud that flam'd O'er daisies white; And lo! the rose, in crimson dress'd, Lean'd sweetly on the lily's breast; And blushing murmur'd--Light!

I dissolved, so white, so unapproachable, amid my white flame, in the whiteness of moonlight

I think we have to remember that the white patriarchal system actually benefits white women in a lot of the ways and they're attached to white men who are benefiting from the system that was created by them, for them, and their fathers and their husbands and their brothers are benefiting from the system and so they are also benefiting.

London's not a white city. So why should our catwalks be so white?

The ancient Greek philosophers were blonde and blue-eyed and, even then, talked about how their race was mixed with others and how this affected their society negatively. When there were no more natural blondes and no more blue eyes in Greece, they incidentally stopped producing great philosophers.

There's no great, white bigot; there's just about 200 million little white bigots out there.

I miss corner men dressed up in the white cardigans, with sometimes the white hat they may have on.

We are still conditioning people in this country and, indeed, all over the globe to the myth of white superiority. We are constantly being told that we don't have racism in this country anymore, but most of the people who are saying that are white. White people think it isn't happening because it isn't happening to them.

When I'm born I'm black, when I grow up I'm black, when I'm in the sun I'm black, when I'm sick I'm black, when I die I'm black, and you...when you're born you're pink, when you grow up you're white, when you're cold you're blue, when you're sick you're green, when you die you're grey and you dare call me coloured.

As it turns out, sometimes that bites you. In this case, I saw pictures of Earl [Mills], and...I actually met him. He was quite old at the time, but he had this sort of curly red hair, so we did that in the film. I got a perm and had red hair, and... It was a mess.

I've spent my life living in rural America, some of it in blue state Vermont, some of it in red state upstate New York. They're quite alike in many ways. And quite wonderful. It's important that even in an urbanized and suburbanized country, we continue to take rural America seriously. And the thing that makes Vermont in particular so special, and I hope this book captures some of it, is the basic underlying civility of its political life. That's rooted in the town meeting. Each of the towns in Vermont governs itself.

We were from a predominantly white area, my dad was black and my mum was white, so that had its complications.

A word about blue jeans, which, when I was growing up, were called dungarees, one of the more unfortunate marketing ideas of our time: Starting as a work garment for miners, the ubiquitous blue jeans became a staple of the counterculture starting when Brando wore them in 'On the Waterfront' and remained so through the anti-war protests of the '70s.

Like all the other arrivals to the tournament, Hank had erected a banner in front. It was a long, tapering pennant with a blue and red circular design in the center and the words GO CUBS! on both sides. Interesting," said Hugo. "What does it mean?" It was a gift from Sam," Hank explained as they entered the tent. "He said it used to represent Triumph over Adversity, but now better represents Impossible Quests and Lost Causes." I think I preferred not knowing that," said Hugo. Hank grinned. "You're a Sox fan too, hey?

June marked the end of spring on California's central coast and the beginning of five months of dormancy that often erupted in fire. Mustard's yellow robes had long since turned red, then brown. Fog and sun mixed to create haze. The land had rusted. The mountains, once blue-hued with young oaks and blooming ceanosis, were tan and gray. I walked across the fallen blossoms of five yucca plants: only the bare poles of their stems remained to mark where their lights had shone the way.

I'm not white. Why should I care about the future of white societies

White supremacy has taught white people to be racially, culturally, & politically illiterate.

She's not my type,' Carter says. 'So what is your type?' 'Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.' 'Skinny?' I squeal. 'Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you're mad about me.' 'You sure about that?' 'No, but I'm hoping.

The summer day is closed - the sun is set: Well they have done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west. The green blade of the ground Has risen, and herds have cropped it; the young twig Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun; Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown And withered; seeds have fallen upon the soil, From bursting cells, and in their graves await Their resurrection. Insects from the pools Have filled the air awhile with humming wings, That now are still for ever; painted moths Have wandered the blue sky, and died again

At about the age of seven … I wrote exactly the kinds of stories I was reading: All my characters were white and blue-eyed, they played in the snow, they ate apples, and they talked a lot about the weather: how lovely it was that the sun had come out. This despite the fact that I lived in Nigeria; we didn’t have snow, we ate mangoes, and we never talked about the weather, because there was no need to.

I was blonde most of my life and I had to dye my hair for a role. I couldn’t believe the difference when I went red. I just felt ‘wow, I’m home’. It’s great. You do something stupid when you’re blonde and you’re dumb. Do something stupid when you’re red and you’re a character.

Memory is a tenuous thing. . . . flickering glimpses, blue and white, like ancient, decomposing 16mm film. Happiness escapes me there, where faces are vague and yesterday seems to come tied up in ribbons of pain. Happiness? I look for it intead in today, where memory is something I can still touch, still rely on. I find it in the smiles of new friends, the hope blossoming inside. My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

Reach me a gentian, give me a torch! Let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of a flower down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark.

Or a White Englishman would rather smash a White Frenchman than a Jew! Crazy!