Purple Pill Quotes

#1. White pill, blue pill, yellow pill, purple pill; its like swallowing a rainbow every bedtime. #Quote by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

#2. Mom! Look. This one is my favorite," Devin said, pulling out a faded pink dress with a red plaid sash. The crinoline petticoat underneath was so old and stiff it made snapping sounds, like beads or fire embers. She dropped the dress over her head, over her clothes. It brushed the floor. "When I'm old enough for it to fit me, I'm going to wear it with purple shoes," she said.
"A bold choice," Kate said as Devin dove back into the trunk. The attic in Kate's mother's house had always fascinated Devin with its promise of hidden treasures. When Kate's mother had been alive, she had let Devin eat Baby Ruth candy bars and drink grape soda and play in this old trunk full of dresses that generations of Morris women had worn to try entice rich men to marry them. Most of the clothes had belonged to Kate's grandmother Marilee, a renowned beauty who, like all the rest, had fallen in love with a poor man instead. #Quote by Sarah Addison Allen

#3. Nonetheless, when it finally ended and the hairdressers left and Tess insisted upon pulling her to the mirror, Fire saw, and understood, that everyone had done the job well. The dress, deep shimmering purple and utterly simple in design, was so beautifully-cut and so clingy and well-fitting that Fire felt slightly naked. And her hair. She couldn't follow what they'd done with her hair, braids thin as threads in some places, looped and wound through the thick sections that fell over her shoulders and down her back, but she saw that the end result was a controlled wildness that was magnificent against her face, her body, and the dress. She turned to measure the effect on her guard - all twenty of them, for all had roles to play in tonight's proceedings, and all were awaiting her orders. Twenty jaws hung slack with astonishment - even Musa's, Mila's, and Neel's. Fire touched their minds, and was pleased, and then angry, to find them open as the glass roofs in July.

'Take hold of yourselves,' she snapped. 'It's a disguise, remember? This isn't going to work if the people meant to help me can't keep their heads.'

'It will work, Lady Granddaughter.' Tess handed Fire two knives in ankle holsters. 'You'll get what you want from whomever you want. Tonight King Nash would give you the Winged River as a present, if you asked for it. Dells, child - Prince Brigan would give you his best warhorse. #Quote by Kristin Cashore

#4. He wrapped himself in quotations - as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of Emperors. #Quote by Rudyard Kipling

#5. For my birthday this year, my girlfriends - who knew I'd just inherited my dad's turntable - gave me a carton of albums like 'Blue Kentucky Girl,' by Emmylou Harris, and 'Off the Wall,' by Michael Jackson. It's all stuff we grew up with. I mean, you can't have a music collection without Prince's 'Purple Rain' - it just can't be done! #Quote by Connie Britton

#6. The dusk had arrived on the wings of a night moth, silent and soft. The sky above me darkened to a deep, beautiful purple. Stars glowed high above, and below them, as if inspired by their light, tiny fireflies awoke and crawled from their shelter in the leaves. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#7. A huge, purple bell, with three tender flowerets in its heart, ensconced in a crown of twigs. A sunbeam fell on the purple flower and made it glow red. The whole thing looked like a tiny world in itself, a fantastic world of flower and fire, light and silence." -- Bougainvillea #Quote by Sarim Baig

#8. I just met a wonderful new man, he is fictional but you can't have everything #Quote by Woody Allen

#9. I don't have black lace underwear and a matching garter belt," I told Lee.
Eddie leaned back and chuckled again. Lee's face didn't change.
"I have red lace underwear and a matching garter belt," I said.
This was true, I did.
Eddie quit chuckling.
"And black satin underwear and a garter belt. And then there's my purple teddy thing with attached garters." I paused. "I'll model them all and you can choose."
I looked at Eddie out of the corner of my eye and the smile was gone.
Then I sat back.
My work was done.
Lee granted me A Smile. It was small but it was meaningful.
"You've always been a lucky fuck," Eddie murmured to Lee. #Quote by Kristen Ashley

#10. She held a bluebell up to the light; and Dunstan could not but observe that the color of sunlight glittering through the purple crystal was inferior in both hue and shade to that of her eyes. #Quote by Neil Gaiman

#11. Hold your tongue!' said the Queen, turning purple. 'I won't!' said Alice. 'Off with her head!' the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved. 'Who cares for you?' said Alice (she had grown to her full size by this time). 'You're nothing but a pack of cards!' At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon her; she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tired to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face. 'Wake up, Alice dear!' said her sister. 'Why, what a long sleep you've had!' So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been. Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventure in Wonderland, 1865 #Quote by Lewis Carroll

#12. A drug for everything is madness. Legal or not, prescribed or not, over-counter under-counter bought for blood on street-corners-every pill separates us from knowing our own completion and from being taught by what's true. #Quote by Richard Bach

#13. It sounds dumb, but one of the first things I'd thought of was that I'd look like the Vandy: covered in swirling purple markings, even on my face. It wouldn't be an easy thing to explain away in the human world, but I was hoping "crazy spring break" might work. #Quote by Rachel Hawkins

#14. M-m-master, when I was on the Quasar I had a paracoita, a doll, you see, a genicon, so beautiful with her great pupils as dark as wells, her i-irises purple like asters or pansies blooming in summer, Master, whole beds of them, I thought, had b-been gathered to make those eyes, that flesh that always felt sun-warmed. Wh-wh-where is she now, my own scopolagna, my poppet? Let h-h-hooks be buried in the hands that took her! Crush them, master, beneath stones. Where has she gone from the lemon-wood box I made for her, where she never slept at all, for she lay with me all night, not in the box, the lemon-wood box where she waited all day, watch-and-watch, Master, smiling when I laid her in so she might smile when I drew her out. How soft her hands were, her little hands. Like d-d-doves. She might have flown with them about the cabin had she not chosen instead to lie with me. W-w-wind their guts about your w-windlass, snuff their eyes into their mouths. Unman them, shave them clean below so their doxies may not know them, their lemans may rebuke them, leave them to the brazen laughter of the brazen mouths of st-st-strumpets. Work your will upon those guilty. Where was their mercy on the innocent? When did they tremble, when weep? What kind of men could do as they have done - thieves, false friends, betrayers, bad shipmates, no shipmates, murderers and kidnappers. W-without you, where are their nightmares, where are their restitutions, so long promised? Where are their abacinations, #Quote by Gene Wolfe

#15. The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies white and unspotted, in the round of light thrown by a candle. Puffs of darkness sweep into the corners, and keep rolling through the room behind his chair. The air is silver and pearl, for the night is liquid with moonlight.
See how the roof glitters, like ice!
Over there, a slice of yellow cuts into the silver-blue, and beside it stand two geraniums, purple because the light is silver-blue, to-night. #Quote by Amy Lowell

#16. [...] Black is the absence of colour and light. White is purity, it is undivided light - light not broken down into colours. Red is the epitome of colour, its zenith and its point of greatest intensity. This ordering of things becomes even more evident if, between white and red, a whole series of intermediate colours, such as lemon-yellow, yellow-ochre, and bright red, is inserted, or again, if one speaks of a 'peacock's tail' of gradually unfolding colours. In this case royal purple is always the seal of each series. #Quote by Titus Burckhardt

#17. Here's to adrenaline.
Here's to dramatic abandon of protocol.
Here's to treasured pain and purple rain.
Here's to chasing our souls,

burning across to sky.

Here's to drinking the ash as it falls,
and not asking why. #Quote by Virginia Petrucci

#18. And isn't taking a pill much easier than reengineering the way you lead your life? #Quote by Jeff O'Connell

#19. O my
Homunculus, I am ill.
I have taken a pill to kill
The thin
Papery feeling.
From the poem "Cut", 24 October 1962 #Quote by Sylvia Plath

#20. Well, I was going to tell you about a dream I had about dragons. They were purple and pretty and liked to sing songs." She flicks my armor with a finger. It rings. "Way to upstage me, Jerk. What happened?"
"I got mad."
She groans, I've become the maiden in distress, haven't I? Slag! I hate those girls. #Quote by Pierce Brown

#21. He was searching his memory when suddenly a strange figure appeared in front of them, on horseback, trotted for a moment, then turned round in the saddle. His blood froze; he remained rooted to the spot in horror. That equivocal, sexless face was green, with terrible eyes of an icy light blue beneath purple lids; postules encircled its mouth; extraordinarily thin arms, bare from the elbows down and shaking with fever, emerged from ragged sleeves, and the fleshless thighs shivered in high boots which were far too large.
The dreadful gaze was fixed on Des Esseintes, boring into him, chilling him to the marrow, while the bulldog woman, now in even greater panic, clung to him with her head thrown back on her rigid neck, screaming blue murder. And instantly he grasped the meaning of the horrifying vision. He was looking at the figure of the Pox. #Quote by Joris-Karl Huysmans

#22. X-Pac, I always thought you were a greasy haired, cheesey bandana wearing asshole that wore green and black tights. I now think you are a greasy haired, cheesey bandana wearing asshole that wears purple and black tights. #Quote by Chris Jericho

#23. 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. #Quote by Veronica Roth

#24. The negatives he did manage were made in the hour or two when the sun seemed to rally with a yellowy light reminiscent of an egg yolk; usually, it looked pale as a pearl on the steely blue or leaden sky above the snow-scrubbed lake. That's a purple passage fit for a novel but hardly descriptive of the actuality of that winter, which was almost past enduring. #Quote by Norman Lock

#25. Ahead, twin rows of crape myrtles dot the road. They're losing their flowers. Purple petals ring the trunks, fallen mementos of a past bloom like photos from college years. But unlike people, trees flower again in the spring; they age in great looping circles. We ride a roller coaster once around, shuddering up clacking tracks and then screaming our fool heads off all the way down. #Quote by Hugh Howey

#26. Less knows so well the pleasures of youth - danger, excitement, losing oneself in a dark club with a pill, a shot, a stranger's mouth - and, with Robert and his friends, the pleasures of age - comfort and ease, beauty and taste, old friends and old stories and wine, whiskey, sunset over water. His entire life, he has alternated between the two. There is his own distant youth, that daily humiliation of rinsing out your one good shirt and putting on your onw good smile, along with the daily rush of newness: new pleasures, new people, new reflections of yourself. There is Robert's middle age of selecting his vices as carefully as tiles in a Paris shop, napping in the sunlight on an afternoon and getting up from a chair and hearing the creak of death. The city of youth, the country of age. But in between, where Less is living - that exurban existence? How has he never learned to live it? #Quote by Andrew Sean Greer

#27. You know,ever since I saw you in the bar that afternoon, I've been fantasizing about doing something."
"Doing what?" His voice was soft.
"This."I moved so that we were face to face. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and then I was leaning forward so that our mouths touched for the first time.
His eyes had darkened to the color of a summer night's sky, that almost-purple shade right before the stars came out. His lips curved up into a wicked smile that made things in my stomach tighten.
"What a coincidence. I've been thinking the exact same thing. #Quote by M.S. Parker

#28. After a minute I leaned back, elbows on the table, and looked up for the twinkle of the first star in the evening sky. When we were little, it was a ritual Finn and I did on the front porch. He'd make his wish silently, and I would too, but I never could keep a secret; and I'd tell him what I wished every time. He'd always tell me it wouldn't come true, but I didn't believe him. I'd had plenty of them come true, from a new box of crayons showing up out of nowhere to a bag of candy left on my bed. It had been a while, though, and the only thing I'd wish for now was impossible. I found the first star in a patch of burnt-orange sky, above the crinkly purple mountains in the distance, and then I wished my brother back anyway. #Quote by Jessi Kirby

#29. You're going to eat yourself alive. Like Draakuna who bit off his own tail, and finding that he tasted very good, quickly devoured the rest of himself.

I really hoped that was some sort of dragon legend and not something true. It sounded awful.

No more awful than what you're doing to yourself. Set it aside. Raise your chin high. You are Amel Leafbrought, rider of Raolcan the Purple. Your value does not lie in your leg. #Quote by Sarah K.L. Wilson

#30. At the apex of Prince's career, I listened almost exclusively to metal. My sister actually purchased 'Purple Rain' on cassette, which I write about in my anthology ["Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas"]. And I felt ashamed that I liked Prince so much. A typical rock fan would be embarrassed that they liked Warrant or Ratt at the time, but I had the exact opposite experience. And I had this overwhelming fear that Prince was actually a better guitar player than any of the metal gods. #Quote by Chuck Klosterman

#31. When I was a teenager in the '70s, I was really into those great bands like Led Zeppelin and Queen and Jethro Tull, Deep Purple, Alice Cooper. #Quote by Steve Vai

#32. The moment he leaves, the bees are back. Buzzing. I breathe in and feel their tiny feet in my bronchi. Buzz. Wings beeting in my alveoli. Flutterbuzz.
[ ... ]
Flutterflutterzzzzzzzzbuzzzzzz. I have to do something to make it stop. I have to feel something simple. This
flutterflutterflutterbuzzzzz
is too complicated. Too confusing. I want to feel something about which there can be no argument or debate. Soemthing about which everything will be known. Here. Now. Something that will make all the rest stop.
There is an exquisite and audible pop when the hooked tip of the center tine in the fish fork punctures the fat purple vein. #Quote by Juliann Garey

#33. Sit back picture yourself swooping up a shell of purple with foam crests of crystal drops soft nigh they fall unto the sea of morning creep-very-softly mist ... and then sort of cascade tinkley-bell like (must I take you by the hand, every so slowly type) and then conglomerate suddenly into a peal of silver vibrant uncomprehendingly, blood singingly, joyously resoundingbells ... By my faith if this be insanity, then for the love of God permit me to remain insane. #Quote by Robert Hunter

#34. Maddy's going to pop soon," Cooper said, finishing his beer and getting ready to head out. "Tucker is attached to her. It's pretty fucking adorable. The guy about wets his pants every time she makes any noise that might be labor pain."
"You'll be an uncle soon."
"I'm already an uncle," Cooper mumbled, sliding on his jacket. "I just can't hold the kid yet."
"You and Farah still planning on trying?"
"No planning. We're just trying now. She's off the pill. Whenever it happens, it'll be cool. Farah worries she'll suck at being a mom. Can you believe that shit?" Cooper asked as his dark eyes warmed at the thought of his wife. "The way she takes care of Sawyer and me and everyone else and she thinks she'll be a bad mom. These girls with their shit families get all fucked up in the head and no logic is going to fix it. They just need to face their fears and see how amazing they are when their idiot parents aren't around to fuck things up."
"Should I fix things for Lark?"
"I don't know. If it was me, I'd go smack her stupid brother and father around. I don't know if that'd be a good idea though. Those fucks aren't low life drifters like Farah's parents. That Larry asshole is a respectable member of the community. If you want to smack him around, you'll need to do it in a more subtle way. Of course, if he ever fucks with you, we can just remind Mister Upstanding how his kind doesn't run Ellsberg. It's us dirty biker types who keep his house from bur #Quote by Bijou Hunter

#35. So many large words, as though the syllables will hide the truth. #Quote by Sharon Mock

#36. The opiate scourge might never have spread as quickly had these rural areas where it all started possessed a diversity of small retailers, whose owners had invested their lives in their stores, knew the addicts personally, and stood ready to defend against them. Walmart allowed junkie shoplifters to play Santa to the pill economy, filling dealers' orders for toys and presents in exchange for dope. #Quote by Sam Quinones

#37. [...] Howard Phillips Lovecraft of Providence, Rhode Island, for cultivating a florid and overblown prose style that covered the entire spectrum from purple to ultraviolet and took sixteen volumes of interminable epistles to get to the point [...] #Quote by Charles Stross

#38. The woman who emerged had to be eight feet tall. Her hair was every shade of purple, piled in buns and hanging in braids, and all of it sprinkled with gems like stars. #Quote by Brenda Cooper

#39. It's more important to understand the imbalances in your body's basic systems and restore balance, rather than name the disease and match the pill to the ill. #Quote by Mark Hyman, M.D.

#40. But if I had to choose between where I live and you, I'd rip up everything I own because the only landscape worth looking is the landscape of the human body. I kiss your Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. I kiss your Missouri and Monongahela and Susquehanna and Shenandoah and Rio Grande. I kiss the confluence of all those rivers. I kiss your amber waves of grain. I kiss your spacious skies, your rocket's red glare, your hand I love, your purple mountain'd majesty. But most of all I kiss your head. I kiss the place where we make our decisions. I kiss the place where we keep our resolves. The place where we do our dreams. I kiss the place behind the eyes where we store up secrets and knowledge to save us if we're caught in a corridor on a dark, wintry evening. #Quote by John Guare

#41. You think that devastation and loneliness is just a Jade concept and that all us heathens surrounding you haven't got a clue what it feels like to suffer and flounder through neck deep shit! Well you're fucking delusional... because you're nothing special and the fucking planet doesn't revolve around you!
Ben, A Pretty Pill #Quote by Criss Copp

#42. Junko: That sort of thing happens all the time. You get drunk on your own "correctness," and the more stubborn you get, the further happiness flies away from you. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

Madoka: I wonder if there's any way I can help...

Junko: Even good advice from others won't bring any clear solutions to someone in that frame of mind. ...Even so, you want to find a solution? Then go ahead and screw up. If she's being too correct, then somebody should make mistakes for her.

Madoka: I should screw up...?

Junko: Yep! Tell a really bad lie. Run away in the face of something scary. She may not understand what you're trying to do at first, but there are times when you realize in hindsight that a mistake was the right thing to do... During those times when you're just stuck for an answer, making a mistake is one method of unsticking yourself. Madoka, you've grown up to be a good kid. You don't tell lies, and you don't do bad things. You're a girl who works hard at what she thinks is right. You get an "A" as a child. So before you become an adult, you have to start practicing falling down. You see, we adults have our pride and responsibilities, so it becomes harder and harder to make mistakes. #Quote by Magica Quartet

#43. (wizards, even failed wizards, have in addition to rods and cones in their eyeballs the tiny octagons that enable them to see into the far octarine, the basic colour of which all other colours are merely pale shadows impinging on normal four-dimensional space. It is said to be a sort of fluorescent greenish-yellow purple). #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#44. Once they got there, it wasn't a pretty landing. With the oars damaged and the foresail torn, Leo could barely manage a controlled descent. The others strapped themselves in below - except for Coach Hedge, who insisted on clinging to the forward rail, yelling, "YEAH! Bring it on, lake!" Leo stood astern, alone at the helm, and aimed as best he could. Festus creaked and whirred warning signals, which were relayed through the intercom to the quarterdeck. "I know, I know," Leo said, gritting his teeth. He didn't have much time to take in the scenery. To the southeast, a city was nestled in the foothills of a mountain range, blue and purple in the afternoon shadows. A flat desert landscape spread to the south. Directly beneath them the Great Salt Lake glittered like aluminum foil, the shoreline etched with white salt marshes that reminded Leo of aerial photos of Mars. "Hang on, Coach!" he shouted. "This is going to hurt." "I was born for hurt! #Quote by Rick Riordan

#45. My father calls me a 'character', because I tend to say the first thing that pops into my head. He says I'm like my Aunt Lily, who I never knew. It's a bit weird, constantly being compared to someone you've never met. I would come downstairs in purple boots, and Dad would nod at Mum and say, 'D'you remember Aunt Lily and her purple boots, eh?' and Mum would cluck and start laughing as if at some secret joke. My mother calls me 'individual', which is her polite way of not quite understanding the way I dress. #Quote by Jojo Moyes