Purple Quotes - Page 15

• But the name Magnus Bane made him think of a towering sort of figure, with huge shoulders and formal purple warlock’s robes, calling down fire and lightning. Not Magnus himself, who was more of a cross between a panther and a demented elf.

  Cassandra Clare

  Thinking, Names, Fire

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• I named my camel Katrina. She was a natural disaster. She slobbered everywhere and seemed to think the purple streak in my hair was some kind of exotic fruit. She was obsessed with trying to eat my head. I named Walt's camel Hindenburg. He was almost as large as a zeppelin and definitely as full of gas.

  Rick Riordan

  Thinking, Hair, Trying

  Rick Riordan (2011). “The Throne of Fire (The Kane Chronicles Book 2): The Throne of Fire”, p.190, Penguin UK

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• I read somewhere once that souls were like flowers,' said Priscilla. 'Then your soul is a golden narcissus,' said Anne, 'and Diana's is like a red, red rose. Jane's is an apple blossom, pink and wholesome and sweet.' 'And our own is a white violet, with purple streaks in its heart,' finished Priscilla.

  Lucy Maud Montgomery

  Sweet, Flower, Heart

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• Your face looks like a sack of purple potatoes

  Jim Butcher

  Looks, Faces, Potatoes

  Jim Butcher (2001). “Fool Moon: Book two of The Dresden Files”, p.173, Penguin

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• Mercury dropped the purple car and shot up into the air, whistling like a shooting star. The woman in the car next to me looked up at me like I was a superhero. I smiled at her and jumped down, trying to be smooth. I landed wrong and went sliding on my face. I glanced back at her. She appeared less impressed than before.

  Obert Skye

  Stars, Air, Car

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• L.A. kills people.' Jacaranda said. 'You're lucky you're leaving. You'll be able to write.' She looked paler, going through another depression, smoking in bed in her lilac room. The walls were the color of her veins. She was getting too thin, even for the modeling. . .Jacaranda died last winter when the flowering trees were bare. You couldn't even tell which ones once cried the purple blossoms she named herself after.

  Francesca Lia Block

  Wall, Writing, Winter

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• The sky is purple, the flare of a match behind a cupped hand is gold; the liquor is green, bright green, made from a thousand herbs, made from altars. Those who know enough to drink Chartreuse at Mardi Gras are lucky, because the distilled essence of the town burns in their bellies. Chartreuse glows in the dark, and if you drink enough of it, your eyes will turn bright green.

  Poppy Z. Brite

  Eye, Dark, Hands

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• I could not help staring back, for they made quite a contrast: Kate's pale skin and elegant purple suit, Nadira's dusky skin and exotic fiery sari. "Do we clash?" Nadira said dryly. "We certainly do," said Kate. "Would you like me to move?" "Don't trouble yourself.

  Kenneth Oppel

  Moving, Pale Skin, Skins

  Kenneth Oppel (2005). “Skybreaker”, HarperCollins

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• My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these, Because my love is come to me. Raise me a daïs of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me.

  Christina Rossetti

  Life, Work, Eye

  Christina Georgina Rossetti, “A Birthday”

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• He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

  J. K. Rowling

  Eye, Moon, Men

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• Yeah, but they're PURPLE pants," Bobby said as if that made some kind of distinction. "Hence, I'm awesome.

  Amanda Hocking

  Pants, Kind, Yeah

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• Wine's terrible for babies." Dorian swept into the sitting room to join me, elegantly arranging himself on a love seat that displayed his purple velvet robes to best effect. "Well of course it is. I'd never dream of giving wine to an infant! What do you take me for, a barbarian? But for you... well, it might go a long way to make you a little less jumpy. You've been positively unbearable to live around. "I can't have it either. It affects the babies in utero.

  Richelle Mead

  Dream, Baby, Wine

  Richelle Mead (2011). “Shadow Heir”, p.16, Kensington Publishing Corp.

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• You can’t miss your schedule. Every morning, you’re supposed to stick your right arm in this contraption in the wall. It tattoos the smooth inside of your forearm with your schedule for the day in a sickly purple ink. 7:00—Breakfast. 7:30—Kitchen Duties. 8:30—Education Center, Room 17. And so on. The ink is indelible until 22:00—Bathing

  Suzanne Collins

  Tattoo, Morning, Wall

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• To put is still more plainly: the desire for security and the feeling of insecurity are the same thing. To hold your breath is to lose your breath. A society based on the quest for security is nothing but a breath-retention contest in which everyone is as taut as a drum and as purple as a beet.

  Alan Watts

  Feelings, Insecurity, Desire

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• And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; — This it is, and nothing more.

  Edgar Allan Poe

  Heart, Doors, Visitors

  Edgar Allan Poe (2015). “A Classic Crime Collection”, p.168, Simon and Schuster

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• Man's hope can paint a purple picture, can transform a soaring vulture into a noble eagle or moaning dove.

  Ralph Ellison

  Men, Eagles, Noble

  Ralph Ellison (2010). “Invisible Man”, p.152, Vintage

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• Summer explodes into Portland. In early June the heat was there but not the color--the green were still pale and tentative, the morning had a biting coolness--but by the last week of school everything is Technicolor and splash, outrageous blue skies and purple thunderstorms and ink-black night skies and red flowers as brights as spots of blood.

  Lauren Oliver

  Summer, Morning, Flower

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• I want purple trews, lass," Drustan called over the door. "No," she said irritably. "And a purple shirt.

  Karen Marie Moning

  Doors, Want, Shirts

  Karen Marie Moning (2008). “Kiss of the Highlander”, p.99, Dell

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• Then Drew shuffles into the dining hall. I drop my toast, and my mouth drifts open. Calling him “bruised” would be an understatement. His face is swollen and purple. He has a split lip and a cut running through his eyebrow. He keeps his eyes down on the way to his table, not even lifting them to look at me. I glance across the room at Four. He wears the satisfied smile I wish I had on.

  Veronica Roth

  Running, Eye, Cutting

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• I wondered if I would appear on a temple wall painting someday. A blonde Egyptian girl with purple highlights running sideways through the palm trees, screaming "Yikes!" in hieroglyphics as Neith chased after me. The thought of some poor archaeologist trying to figure that out almost lifted my spirits.

  Rick Riordan

  Girl, Running, Wall

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• When I’m a teacher, I won’t be using red pens to grade papers. Red pens will forever be associated with criticism and bad grades in my mind. I don’t want this person to get their short story back with harsh red pen marks all over it. Purple is much friendlier.

  Susane Colasanti

  Teacher, Forever, Mind

  Susane Colasanti (2012). “Keep Holding On”, p.58, Penguin

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• Tell me where you want it,” I said. Minias drew back, his purple robes shifting about his ankles. “You’re asking me?” “Well, unless you want a big R on your forehead.

  Kim Harrison

  Ankles, Asking, Want

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• When I write after dark", observed Cyril Connolly, "the shades of evening scatter their purple through my prose

  Anne Fadiman

  Writing, Dark, Shade

  Anne Fadiman (2008). “At Large and At Small: Familiar Essays”, p.64, Macmillan

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• And somewhere in that crimson-colored never-never land where i pirouetted madly, in a wild and crazy effort to exhaust myself into insensibility, i saw that man, shadowy and distant, half-hidden behind towering white columns that rose clear up to a purple sky. In a passionate pas de deux he danced with me, forever apart, no matter how hard i sought to draw nearer and leap into his arms, where i could feel them protective about me, supporting me ... and with him i'd find, at last, a safe place to live and love.

  Virginia C. Andrews

  Crazy, Men, Land

  Virginia C. Andrews (2004). “Flowers in the Attic”

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• I want to be pure in heart -- but I like to wear my purple dress.

  Anne Morrow Lindbergh

  Heart, Dresses, Want

  Anne Morrow Lindbergh (2012). “Against Wind and Tide: Letters and Journals, 1947-1986”, p.36, Pantheon

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