Ilda The Red Quotes

#1. What separates us from other camera companies is that the vision guy is the decision maker. That was one of my biggest advantages at Oakley, and it's the same at Red - I'm in the trenches, in the product development, and I make the final call. #Quote by James Jannard

#2. Generally for red carpet, I love to relax first. I love to work out. I love to eat well, drink tons of water beforehand, so on the night of the red carpet I feel good and ready to go. I also love to get a good body scrub. #Quote by Emmanuelle Chriqui

#3. Why would you be my friend? What do you get out of it?"
I consider that question as I sip from the bottle of rum, sitting back down in my chair. "The truth?"
"Please."
"I'm bored," I admit. "I came to the city because of a movie, too. The Godfather. But reality? It's nothing like it is in the movies. Most days we just sit around, waiting for something to happen. It's monotonous. The world, it's all in black and white, but you? You're so many shades of red, woman, and color me curious, but I find myself not so bored with your bullshit around. #Quote by J.M. Darhower

#4. A Rose in Winter
A crimson bloom in winter's snow,
Born out of time, like a maiden's woe,
Spawned in a season when the chill winds blow.
'Twas found in a sheltered spot,
Bright sterling gules and blemished not,
Red as a drop o' blood from the broken heart,
Of the maid who waits and weeps atop the tor,
Left behind by yon argent knight sworn to war,
'Til ajousting and aquesting he goes no more.
Fear not, Sweet Jo, amoulderin' on the moor.
The winter's rose doth promise in the fading runes of yore,
That true love once found will again be restored. #Quote by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

#5. People in New England think that the Red Sox won that series, three games to four. #Quote by Carlton Fisk

#6. Vimes felt his hand begin to move of its own accord--
And stopped. Red rage froze.
There was The Beast, all around him. And that's all it was. A beast. Useful, but still a beast. You could hold it on a chain, and make it dance, and juggle balls. It didn't think. It was dumb. What you were, what you were, was not The Beast. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#7. Reggie made him feel like he was nine years old and out for dinner with his family at the Ponderosa Steak House and he had run into his French teacher and his mother invited her to dine with him.
Reggie made him feel like he was sitting in a public bathroom stall and someone had come into the bathroom and began singing a song about what a stinky bastard he was while he was in there sweating it out.
Reggie made him feel like someone had taken the red Tonka fire engine he had always wanted and painfully corkscrewed it down the front of his jeans.
Reggie made him feel like the ice cream man had just rolled by and all his dead grandparents were mooning him out the truck window. #Quote by Jonathan Goldstein

#8. When I was young I lived a constant storm,
Though now and then the brilliant suns shot through,
So in my garden few red fruits were born,
The rain and thunder had so much to do.

- The Enemy #Quote by Charles Baudelaire

#9. Being with Al Gore on the red carpet in Cannes was exciting - he's like a rock star unto himself! #Quote by Lawrence Bender

#10. I remember my visit to the opencast iron ore mines in Keonjhar, Orissa. There was forest there once. And children like these. Now the land is like a raw, red wound. Red dust fills your nostrils and lungs. The air is red, the water is red, the people are red, their lungs and hair are red. All day and all nights trucks rumble through their villages, bumper to bumper, thousands and thousands of trucks, taking ore to Paradip port from where it will go to China. There it will turn into cars and smoke and sudden cities that spring up overnight. Into a 'growth rate' that leaves economists breathless. Into weapons to make war. #Quote by Arundhati Roy

#11. To understand this better, we need to know that the cycle of zero to 16% partial reflection by two surfaces repeats more quickly for blue light than for red light. Thus at certain thicknesses, one or the other or both colors are strongly reflected, while at other thicknesses, reflections of both colors is cancelled out (see Fig. 18). The cycles of reflection repeat at different rates because the stopwatch hand turns around faster when it times a blue photon than it does when timing a red photon. In fact, that's the only difference between a red photon and a blue photon (or a photon of any other color, including radio waves, X-rays, and so on)-the speed of the stopwatch hand. #Quote by Richard Feynman

#12. I smashed his hand as hard as I could with the Wiffle bat.
"Ow!" he screamed.
Carson was rubbing his red palm, inspecting it for damage. "That hurt," he shrieked. "You really hurt me."
"Right back at you," I said. "Good-bye Carson."
He frowned, massaging his hand, the big baby. "I just wanted to end this nicely."
"Yeah?" I cocked the bat up to hit him again. "Well, this time you don't get what you want. #Quote by Rachel Vail

#13. Jack turned red,"I kinda let a princess die."
His grandfather groaned. "You do realize that's not a good thing to do, right?" the old man asked.
"So I'm told. #Quote by James Riley

#14. The colours red, blue and green are real. The colour yellow is a mystical experience shared by everybody. #Quote by Tom Stoppard

#15. Along the open road on winter nights, homeless, cold, and hungry, one voice gripped my frozen heart: 'Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don't know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.' In the morning my eyes were so vacant and my face so dead, that the people I met may not even have seen me.

In cities, mud went suddenly red and black, like a mirror when a lamp in the next room moves, like treasure in the forest! Good luck, I cried, and I saw a sea of flames and smoke rise to heaven; and left and right, all wealth exploded like a billion thunderbolts. #Quote by Arthur Rimbaud

#16. Madness creeps in very quickly at the edges of such speculation. Not just madness, but a kind of horror, a flickering red field closing in. Just the thought of it. #Quote by Ben H. Winters

#17. The sun tells the best joke of a day full of them, setting so spectacularly that you can almost smell the tropical paradise lazing somewhere over this rim of endless, gray socialist towers. Miles of square windows explode orange, red, and purple, like a million TV sets broadcasting the apocalypse. Clouds unspool. The sky drains of birds. #Quote by Tod Wodicka

#18. What is all the racket about? Did you put red pepper on the lollypops? #Quote by Johnny Gruelle

#19. Socrates held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. God gave me these hands to change the world, one child at a time. #Quote by Red Phoenix

#20. Close your eyes, Sophia. Look at the table in your mind. What does it look like? What's on the menu? Taste it. Tell me."
She closed her eyes. Enveloped by all that was Elliott. She tried to concentrate and ignore those rough fingers on her cheek.
"Shrimp wrapped in Thai basil and prosciutto, crisped on the grill, drizzled with olive oil and fresh lime juice. It's Emilia's favorite."
"Mmm. Keep going. Don't stop."
His lips were almost touching her forehead. His breath on her skin.
"Grilled filet mignon with my peppercorn sauce. White, red, pink peppercorns. The girls get them for me when they travel. That's our special dinner. Our decadent meal."
"More." His lips grazed her ear.
Sophia's eyes were tightly shut, but she had to suppress a shudder.
"Vegetable salad on baby greens from my garden. Yellow peppers, green zucchini, purple eggplant, lightly grilled. With a sherry vinaigrette and fresh herbs. All the colors of the rainbow."
"Lovely. Keep going."
She could no longer hear the buzz of crickets or throaty calls of the frogs. Just Elliott's breathing. Steady. Intense.
"Wine, lots of wine," she said huskily.
She felt his chuckle against her cheek.
"Well, this is my fantasy, right? It must have wine."
"Of course it does. Keep going."
"Home-made gelato. Lemon. With lemon zest and lemon basil and lemon verbena. And crunchy toasted macadamia nuts on top. #Quote by Penny Watson

#21. I think Johnny Depp could play just about any role - I'd love to see what he would do with the Red Queen! #Quote by Jennifer Todd

#22. Here's a moment. All the world and more has rushed eternity's length to reach this beat of your heart, screaming down the years. And if you let it, the universe, without drawing breath, will press itself through this fractured second and race to the next, on into a new eternity. #Quote by Mark Lawrence, Red Sister

#23. I turned into Little Red Riding Hood. I made a cake, packed it up and went through the forest until I met the wolves. That's something the story got wrong, wolves don't travel solo, they hunt in packs. #Quote by Louise Welsh

#24. Red?" I asked.

"I've decided I'm going to call you Red from now on."

"All right, I'll bite - no pun intended. Why?"

He snickered in a very masculine way and lowered his voice. "'Cause I like the idea of the big bad wolf visiting you and Grandma. #Quote by Linda Robertson

#25. But I am not the sea nor the red sun,
I am not the wind with girlish laughter,
Not the immense wind which strengthens, not the wind which lashes,
Not the spirit that ever lashes its own body to terror and death,
But I am that which unseen comes and sings, sings, sings,
Which babbles in brooks and scoots in showers on the land,
Which the birds know in the woods mornings and evenings,
And the shore-sands know and the hissing wave, and that banner and pennant,
Aloft there flapping and flapping. #Quote by Walt Whitman

#26. And Barcelona. You should see Barcelona." "How is it?" "It is all still comic opera. First it was the paradise of the crackpots and the romantic revolutionists. Now it is the paradise of the fake soldier. The soldiers who like to wear uniforms, who like to strut and swagger and wear red-and-black scarves. Who like everything about war except to fight. Valencia makes you sick and Barcelona makes you laugh. #Quote by Ernest Hemingway,

#27. Red-heeled shoes and silk stockings clocked in black. Gray satin breeches with silver knee buckles. Snowy linen, with Brussels lace six inches deep at cuff and jabot. The coat, a masterpiece in heavy gray with blue satin cuffs and crested silver buttons, hung behind the door, awaiting its turn. #Quote by Diana Gabaldon

#28. Inside Bag End, Bilbo and Gandalf were sitting at the open window of a small room looking out west on to the garden. The late afternoon was bright and peaceful. The flowers glowed red and golden: snap-dragons and sunflowers, and nasturtians trailing all over the turf walls and peeping in at the round windows. #Quote by J.R.R. Tolkien

#29. It was everything, those nights on the phone, everything we said until late became later & then later & very late & finally to go to bed with my ear warm & worn & red from holding the phone close, close, close so as not to miss a word of what it was, because who cared how tired I was in the humdrum slave drive of our days without each other? I'd ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you & I did. But that's why right there it was doomed. We couldn't only have the magic nights buzzing through the wires. We had to have the days, too, the bright impatient days spoiling everything with their unavoidable schedules, their mandatory times that don't overlap, their loyal friends who don't get along, the unforgiven travesties torn from the wall no matter what promises are uttered past midnight & that's why we broke up. #Quote by Daniel Handler

#30. No matter what sort of car you are driving or how fast you drive, we all meet behind the same red light. #Quote by Moe Cidaly

#31. Sophos turned red, and I wondered about the circulation of his blood; maybe his body kept an extra supply of it in his head, ready for blushing. #Quote by Megan Whalen Turner

#32. Don't defend him! This is bullshit!" he said as he turned for the door, and then turned back to face me. "I've been sitting at work this whole time, staring at those fucking things. I wanted to calm down before I got here, but this is just . . . it's fucking disrespectful, is what it is! I bust my ass trying to prove to you that I'm better for you than he ever was. But he keeps pulling this shit, and showing up, and . . . I can't compete with some rich college boy from California. I'm barely getting by, with no degree, and up until a few days ago I still lived with my dad. But I am so fucking in love you, Cami," he said, reaching for me. "I have been since we were kids. The first time I saw you on the playground, I knew what beauty was. The first time you ignored me was my first broken heart. I thought I was playing this right, from the moment I sat down at your table at the Red. No one has ever wanted someone as much as I want you. For years I . . ." He was breathing hard, and he clenched his jaw. "When I heard about your dad, I wanted to rescue you," he said, chuckling, but not out of humor. "And that night at your apartment, I thought I'd finally gotten something right." He pointed to the ground. "That my purpose in life was to love you and keep you safe . . . but I didn't prepare for having to share you. #Quote by Jamie McGuire

#33. In the Novel

He described her mouth as full of ashes.
So when he kissed her finally
he was thinking about ashes

and the blacker rim just below
the edge of the ashtray,
and the faint dark rim that outlined her lips,

and the lips themselves, at the limit
of another darkness, farther
and far more interior.

Then the way the red,
paling, just outside those lines
caught fire and the pages caught

soon after that. Slowly at first,
but then all at once
at the scalloped brown corners of each;

like the ruff of an offended and darkening bird,
extended, then folded
in on itself; multiple,

stiffening, gone. #Quote by Susan Stewart

#34. If we mammals don't get something to eat every day or two, our temperature drops, all our signs fall off, and we begin to starve. Living at biological red alert, it's not surprising how obsessed we are with food; I'm just amazed we don't pace and fret about it all the time. #Quote by Diane Ackerman

#35. As the room filled with tart, pleasant fumes Esther had never smelled before, her head became light with joy. These paints and and brushes and canvases were the tools real artists used. In the short hour left, inspired by Van Gogh, she chose a corner of the room as her subject and began to paint in tiny, furious brush strokes. To her amazement, yellow and blue combined into a vibrant green, red and blue turned a pulsating purple, and yellow and red mixed into a glowing orange. But beyond the colors, some new magic took over. Esther's eyes, clear as if the cumin had never blinded her, captured shapes and shadows and threw them on the canvas without effort, without thought. The urge to paint was a fountain that coursed through her, her fingers only a conduit to something so big it was hard to imagine her little heart contained it. Surely, this was the work of God. He must be guiding her hand. #Quote by Talia Carner

#36. When Toad found himself immured in a dank and noisome dungeon, and knew that all the grim darkness of a medieval fortress lay between him and the outer world of sunshine and well-metalled high roads where he had lately been so happy, disporting himself as if he had bought up every road in England, he flung himself at full length on the floor, and shed bitter tears, and abandoned himself to dark despair. 'This is the end of everything' (he said), 'at least it is the end of the career of Toad, which is the same thing; the popular and handsome Toad, the rich and hospitable Toad, the Toad so free and careless and debonair! How can I hope to be ever set at large again' (he said), 'who have been imprisoned so justly for stealing so handsome a motor-car in such an audacious manner, and for such lurid and imaginative cheek, bestowed upon such a number of fat, red-faced policemen!' (Here his sobs choked him.) 'Stupid animal that I was' (he said), 'now I must languish in this dungeon, till people who were proud to say they knew me, have forgotten the very name of Toad! O wise old Badger!' (he said), 'O clever, intelligent Rat and sensible Mole! What sound judgments, what a knowledge of men and matters you possess! O unhappy and forsaken Toad!' With lamentations such as these he passed his days and nights for several weeks, refusing his meals or intermediate light refreshments, though the grim and ancient gaoler, knowing that Toad's pockets were well lined, frequently pointed out that m #Quote by Kenneth Grahame

#37. The last time I saw a blonde with red streaks in her hair she was laying on Oscar Pistorius' bathroom floor, #Quote by Joan Rivers

#38. [J.Lo] found us a police car. Sort of.
'It's not a police car,' I said.
'It is,' said J.Lo. 'Looknow. Lights for flashing.'
'That's true.'
'Writing on the sides.'
'Yeah, but the writing? It says 'BullShake Party Patrol.'
Yes. Whatnow? #Quote by Adam Rex

#39. Helpless, I clenched my fists against my back, well aware that every mile, every minute that ticked by, took me ever farther from getting to them in time and closer to losing the red dragon forever. #Quote by Julie Kagawa

#40. All you need to catch a fairy is an old birdhouse and some shiny stuff. You know, like glass and glitter, or pieces of colored plastic or metal things that'll sparkle when the sun hits them.
You can paint the birdhouse, but it doesn't really matter what color. It's not like how hummingbirds like red things, fairies aren't that picky.
So you take your birdhouse and shiny stuff and just hang it somewhere. High but not too high. Trees are good but fairies are everywhere so trees aren't like, a requirement.
You don't even need to put anything over the birdhouse entrance. Once they get in they won't be able to figure out how to get out.
Fairies are kind of stupid. #Quote by Erin Morgenstern

#41. Intimacy

The woman in the cafe making my cappuccino - dark eyes, dyed
red hair,
sleeveless black turtleneck - used to be lovers with the man I'm
seeing now.
She doesn't know me; we're strangers, but still I can't glance at her
casually, as I used to, before I knew. She stands at the machine,
sinking the nozzle
into a froth of milk, staring at nothing - I don't know what she's
thinking.
For all I know she might be remembering my lover, remembering
whatever happened
between them - he's never told me, except to say that it wasn't
important, and then
he changed the subject quickly, too quickly now that I think about
it; might he,
after all, have been lying, didn't an expression of pain cross his
face for just
and instant? I can't be sure. And really it was nothing, I tell myself;
there's no reason for me to feel awkward standing here, or
complicitous,
as though there's something significant between us.
She could be thinking of anything; why, now, do I have the sudden
suspicion
that she knows, that she feels me studying her, trying to imagine
them together? -
her lipstick's dark red, darker than her hair - trying to see him
kissing her, turning her over in bed
the way he likes to have me. I wonder if maybe
there were things about her he preferred, things he misses now
that we're together;
sometim #Quote by Kim Addonizio

#42. Without a doubt, first thing we should do is clean up our fiscal house, and that starts with balancing our budgets and digging out of this red ink. We cannot expect to continue in this fashion and remain the leader of the free world. #Quote by Marcy Kaptur

#43. What is red, white and black all over and says "Ho! Ho!"? Santa Claus after he has came down the chimney. #Quote by Beverly Adams