Cerulean Quotes

Caleb does the mental equivalent of throwing his hands in the air in defeat. I ignore him.

Lyons, Heather (2013-11-17). A Matter of Heart (Fate Series Book 2) (p. 50). Cerulean Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Heather Lyons

Lying down gazing at the cerulean blue-black sky, she slid her hands down to intertwine her fingers with his. "I love you," she whispers. ~ Truth Devour

She doesn't blame you. She knows this isn't your fault. It's not like on the day they were passing out Connections, you decided to hog two for yourself because you're a greedy bitch."

Lyons, Heather (2013-11-17). A Matter of Heart (Fate Series Book 2) (p. 320). Cerulean Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Heather Lyons

A vinal shine turns over shades of cerulean and jasper from her expressive lips, revealing a jewel-like surface beneath a light that remains colorfast in a kiss composed of infinite grace. Being in a state of rest, Nadia still makes me the center of attention, dovetailing in an erotic entwinement that impels me to knead her coiling flex. Her resplendent fullness macerated into my bosom now grants me a restful anodyne, enabling the allay of my inner soul. ~ Luccini Shurod

I sang colors to counteract the onset of gray winter. Cadmium yellow, brown madder, cerulean blue, I whispered, invoking pause. ~ Tina May Hall

His eyes were the brightest, most unnatural blue I had ever seen, a toxic cerulean. ~ Courtney Allison Moulton

Monet Refuses the Operation"

Doctor, you say that there are no halos
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolve
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don't know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weig ~ Lisel Mueller

Speaking of, Kellan texted me yesterday, while I was in Annar: So. Today, I didn't see you at school. In class. In History, even.

I'd been amazed to discover that apparently my cell phone coverage included Annar.

Lyons, Heather (2012-08-25). A Matter of Fate (Fate Series Book 1) (p. 118). Cerulean Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Heather Lyons

A skyscraper is the incarnate rebellion against the supposedly unattainable; against the mystery of altitude, against the otherworldliness of the cerulean. ~ Joseph Roth

Her eyes met his, and he tried to remember if he'd ever seen such a deep shade of blue anywhere else. What was the word for it? Azure? Cobalt? Cerulean? Where was the fucking Crayola box when he needed it? ~ Tawna Fenske

Hey," she says to him.
"Hey," he says in return.
"Hey," I offer, making sure that I add to the awkwardness.

Lyons, Heather (2013-11-17). A Matter of Heart (Fate Series Book 2) (pp. 96-97). Cerulean Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Heather Lyons

The neon orange orb sat low in the sky, slowly breaking free of the horizon like the waking memory of a dream. The salty air smelled faintly of fish, and was thick with humidity and hung like a cloak over my body. The lavender sky at the horizon faded into cerulean above and behind me. The soft breeze whispered past my face, teasing my hair on its way to tickle the sawgrass that swayed in gratitude as if laughing like a child.


I sat on the top plank of the boardwalk rail, the wood heavy with atmosphere and was damp and cool under my left palm. The surprising warmth of the winter air and the cool of the wood reminded me that yes, I am alive! Yes, I am grateful for this morning! And yes, I am glad to be here!


The paper in my notebook as I wrote this began to feel sticky and moist within a few minutes. The ink from my pen seemed to grip the paper faster and firmer as if to say, I'm here, I'm happy, and I don't want to lose this moment. Like my ink, I too wanted to cling to this morning.


The sky started turning a peachy orange at the bottom and the ocean was sea foam green. The waves were breaking quietly, as if to give my thoughts amplitude so I could record and rejoice in the sea's majesty. 


The sand was gray and silky like a freshly pressed pair of slacks. The smooth beach seemed paved with sunlight. A jogger ran by, his knees probably grateful for the even stride the flat surface provided. 


Chunks of sea foam lay str ~ Jarod Kintz

Cerulean left. I wondered if she was from Flower Planet. Blue flowers were rare - one might take a name from that. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Love is blue. A clear cerulean when new. A bright, bold, true blue in its glorious throes. And when it hurts, as it inevitably will, love turns deep, dark, the color of a bad bruise. ~ Nina Malkin

The river runs every shade of blue that has ever been known to humankind: ink and turquoise and lapis, indigo, teal, cerulean, and ultramarine. ~ Alice Hoffman

Can I borrow your phone?"
There's no hesitation.
"No." I sigh through my nose.
"Look. I totally butchered the last call. I don't want Jonah not knowing how much I love him if I go and die tonight or something."
Karl leans back against the wood paneled wall.
"Then don't die."

Lyons, Heather (2013-11-03). A Matter of Truth (Fate Series Book 3) (p. 144). Cerulean Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Heather Lyons

A Haiku: Midday

Cloud ribbons on wings
Dramatic cerulean sky
A feast for the eye. ~ Tara Estacaan

They're afraid of us?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said, "they are. They can sense that we're a predator so they just… stay away."
"But we're not any different," I choked.
Caeden put one hand beside either side of my body against the wall. "Yes, we are Sophie." A dangerous look glinted in those cerulean blue eyes. "We're faster, stronger, and-" his voice turned deliciously husky. "Sexier."
His lips brushed against mine in a tantalizing gesture. "You're definitely sexier," I breathed. ~ Micalea Smeltzer

Are we fallen angels who didn't want to believe that nothing is nothing and so were born to lose our loved ones and dear friends one by one and finally our own life, to see it proved? ... But cold morning would return, with clouds billowing out of Lightning Gorge like giant smoke, the lake below still cerulean neutral, and empty space the same as ever. O gnashing teeth of earth, where would it all lead to but to prove that the proving itself was nil ... ~ Jack Kerouac

Sal and Henry return with a gust of warm garden air and I settle down to create miniature roses from sugarpaste using tiny ivory spatulas and crimpers. I will have no antique tester bed crowning my cake, only a posy of flowers: symbols of beauty and growth, each year new-blossoming. I let Henry paint the broken pieces with spinach juice, while I tint my flowers with cochineal and yellow gum. As a pretty device I paint a ladybird on a rose, and think it finer than Sèvres porcelain.
At ten o'clock tomorrow, I will marry John Francis at St. Mark's Church, across the square. As Sal and I rehearse our plans for the day, pleasurable anticipation bubbles inside me like fizzing wine. We will return from church for this bride cake in the parlor, then take a simple wedding breakfast of hot buttered rolls, ham, cold chicken, and fruit, on the silver in the dining room. Nan has sent me a Yorkshire Game Pie, so crusted with wedding figures of wheatsheafs and blossoms it truly looks too good to eat. We have invited few guests, for I want no great show, and instead will have bread and beef sent to feed the poor. And at two o'clock, we will leave with Henry for a much anticipated holiday by the sea, at Sandhills, on the southern coast. John Francis has promised Henry he might try sea-bathing, while I have bought stocks of cerulean blue and burnt umber to attempt to catch the sea and sky in watercolor. ~ Martine Bailey

I grew up watching my father make plates that featured penises as centerpieces. Pink, proud, and stiff, encircled by cerulean Greek key, Dad's creations made me feel scared and small. I saw a private part of the man I could not measure up to. At six years old, I lived in a world shaded by his ceramic glazes. There was love and color, but anger, too, in the way he kneaded his clay, palms pounding the rich, wet earth into shapes of his choosing. ~ Royal Young

Con jerked to a halt in the entryway to his and Leilani's bedroom. It looked as if their entire closet had been dumped onto the bed. Or at least her half of the closet. "Leilani?"
She stepped out of the bathroom wearing only panties and the giant cerulean-colored jewel around her neck that he'd given her a week ago to commemorate their official mating. Part of him still couldn't believe she'd said yes. She was everything to him and he loved seeing the physical statement around her neck. Everyone knew she was his but still, his most primitive side liked claiming her publicly.
She held up two long-sleeved tunics, both a similar blue color. "Which one should I wear tonight?"
They looked almost the same but the slightly wild look in her dark eyes told him that would be the dumbest answer possible. He pointed to the one on the left. It was cut lower than the other and he liked to see the soft swell of her breasts as often as possible.
"That's what I thought too." Grinning, she tossed the other to the ground and disappeared back into the bathroom. The female was a whirlwind of activity sometimes. ~ Savannah Stuart

It is a glorious occupation, vivifying and self-sustaining in its nature, to struggle with ignorance, and discover to the inquiring minds of the masses the clear cerulean blue of heavenly truth. ~ Hosea Ballou

The sky's gone blue: azure, the ocean bluer: cerulean, the trees are swirls of every hella freaking green on earth and bright thick eggy yellow is spilling over everything. ~ Jandy Nelson

I sipped my own coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, trying to make up for the late work the night before. Caffeine and sugar, the two basic food groups. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

It's like watching a car wreck, no pun intended. I know what's going to happen, and as much as I want to look away, I can't. It's almost as if I have to see just how ineffective I was in Karl's Hummer that day.

Lyons, Heather (2012-08-25). A Matter of Fate (Fate Series Book 1) (p. 233). Cerulean Books. Kindle Edition. ~ Heather Lyons

Her cerulean eyes widened.
"You dream about me?"
His gaze snapped back to hers.
"Nightmares only ~ Morgan Rhodes

Celadon, azure, crimson and amber.
They are beautiful, for sure.
But they have nothing on you.

Even the piano and its shades of melodic sounds.
And even, when I have the chance, Chopin in the park in Paris.
These are some of my fondest memories.

But still it is hard to think of the subtle nuances in the gold of the sun when I see you.
In you there is no viridian, cerulean, venetian, or citrine.

This is not to say that there is no color in you, because there is.
I just have not found the right words to describe you, and somehow,
I feel that I never will. ~ Queenbe Monyei

As she'd hoped, the two of them were the sole occupants of this stretch of windswept beach. Sipping the steaming liquid, she let the familiar peace seep into her soul. The cerulean water sparkled in the morning sun, as if sprinkled with diamonds, and she drew in a cleansing breath of the tangy salt air. She watched a sandpiper play tag with the surf. Listed to the caw of a gull high overhead and the muted thunder of the breaking waves. Felt the breeze caress her cheek. ~ Irene Hannon

She smiled and sipped from her glass. There was altogether too much of her sitting there, the broad expanse of thigh cradled in the insubstantial stocking and the garters with the pale flesh pursed and her full breasts and the sootblack piping of her eyelids, a gaudish rake of metaldust in prussian blue where cerulean moths fluttered her awake from some outlandish dream. Suttree gradually going awash in the sheer outrageous sentience of her. Their glasses clicked on the tabletop. Her hot spiced tongue fat in his mouth and her hands all over him like the very witch of fuck. ~ Cormac McCarthy

They reached the summit of a shallow incline and were greeted with a surprising vista of bluebells that blanketed the forest floor. It was like stumbling into a dream, the cerulean haze seeping between the trunks of oak and beech and ash. The smell of bluebells was everywhere, the perfumed air feeling heavy and rich in her lungs.
Pausing by a slender tree trunk, Annabelle curled her arm around it loosely and stared at the stands of bluebells with surprised pleasure. "Lovely," she murmured, her face gleaming in the shadow cast by the canopy of ancient, interlaced branches.
"Yes." But Hunt was looking at her, not the bluebells, and one glance at his expression caused the blood to tingle in her veins. ~ Lisa Kleypas