Best Gray Quotes

The person who doesn’t scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs.

Fear is crippling. Fear of the future can convince us that there is no way out and nothing is ever going to get better. Fear is blinding; it can make us miss the warning signs flashing right in front of our eyes. It can also make you miss those brilliant flashes of color, when the world isn’t so gray. But, if you think about it, being afraid isn’t such a bad thing. Because fear is a reminder that you still have something to lose. Something worth holding onto.

The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.

Henry Miller wrote novels, but he calls his protagonist Henry, often Henry Miller, and his books are in this gray area between memoir and novel.

I bring a poofy gray down jacket with me wherever I go. It’s meant for winter, but I use it most in the summer, when everyone cranks up the air-conditioning.

I went into my own black-out period which lasted two or three years where the canvases would simply build up until they’d get like stone and it was always just a gray mess. The image wouldn’t emerge, but I worked pretty regularly. I was fighting to find I knew not what, but I could no longer stay with what I had.

All colors made me happy: even gray. My eyes were such that literally they Took photographs.

ADMIRABLY BOLD. There’s something grand about the film’s sincerity and the intensity of its emotions and something fresh and bold about the way director Gray uses the conventions of romantic melodrama.

Maybe the only thing that hints at a sense of Time is rhythm; not the recurrent beats of the rhythm but the gap between two such beats, the gray gap between black beats: the Tender Interval.

Miranda in Miranda’s sight is old, gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning she is thirty.

That’s why for Zakk Wylde’s Black Label Society the colors are black and white. There are no gray issues. Life is black and it’s white. There’s no in-between.

By the ’40s, Sam Goldwyn is a very serious man. By the ’50s, he’s the dean of American producers. To the end, he was Hollywood’s gray eminence.

The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many.

I am seventy years old, a gray age weighted with uncompromising biblical allusions. It ought to have a gray outlook, but it hasn’t, because a glint of dazzling sunshine is dancing merrily ahead of me.

When her body first hit the net, all I registered was a gray blur. I pulled her across it and her hand was small, but warm, and then she stood before me, short and thin and plain and in all ways unremarkable- except that she had jumped first. The stiff had jumped first. Even I didn’t jump first. Her eyes were so stern, so insistent. Beautiful.

Looking at the poems of John Gray when I saw the tiniest rivulet of text meandering through the very largest meadow of margin, I suggested to Oscar Wilde that he should go a step further than these minor poets; he should publish a book all margin; full of beautiful, unwritten thoughts.

Im a little untidy, and my favorite color is gray, and Im always scurrying around in a panic.

No rival will steal away my sure love; that glory will be my gray hair.

I can go all over the world with just three outfits: a blue blazer and gray flannel pants, a gray flannel suit, and black tie.

It’s a terrible thing being a patriarch. I don’t even have a gray beard. But people keep calling me up for advice.

When I grew up, what was interesting for me was that music was color and life was gray. So music for me has always been more than entertainment.

You’d get on the plane; and every single person is somebody really, really famous. It just killed me. On one flight you’d have Linda Gray, O.J. Simpson, Robert De Niro, Carol Burnett, Loni Anderson and Burt Reynolds… and Francis Ford Coppola.

Twice in my life I have spent two weary and scientifically profitless years seeking evidence to corroborate dearly loved hypotheses that later proved to be groundless; times such as these are hard for scientists-days of leaden gray skies bringing with them a miserable sense of oppression and inadequacy.

My father Time is weak and gray
With waiting for a better day;
See how idiot-like he stands,
Fumbling with his palsied hands!

You see, being bald and wearing that gray starship uniform, I would have looked like a boy. I wanted to look like a sexy female.

This isn’t a hunt that’s going to kill just four or five gray whales. The repercussions of this will have an effect on tens of thousands of whales that will be killed by the Japanese and Norwegians.

The choice in politics isn’t usually between black and white. It’s between two horrible shades of gray.

See the gold sunshine patching, And streaming and streaking across The gray-green oaks; and catching, By its soft brown beard, the moss.

There is only one cure for gray hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

When there’s dust missing here or there, it’s because someone has touched my things. I see immediately someone has been there. And it’s because I live constantly with dust, in dust, that I prefer to wear gray suits, the only color on which it leaves no trace.

Black absorbs all color, accepts them, takes them into it and let them define it. Gray isn’t anything but itself. It absorbs nothing but itself.

Ancient mirror Macick mirror Shades of gray Hidden Forbidden Within, away Part the mist Macick kissed Call the fey Reveal the past The spell is cast I save the day!

It’s not hard to get your way when it’s your way or the highway. People either follow suit or they’re not around. I don’t really like the sound of that, ’cause that sounds like a temper tantrum. I’m just very black and white when it comes to my business. There’s really no gray area.

A throng of bearded men in sad-colored garments and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods, and other bareheaded, was assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron spikes.

I don’t know if many people know this about me, but I have multiple sclerosis. So I don’t have time for a lot of shades of gray. I don’t have time for BS.