“Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue - the sky”

“Wouldn't it be strange, she thought, to have a blue sky? But she liked the way it looked. It would be beautiful - a blue sky.”

“I'm standing in a river. It's blue. Dark blue. Reflecting the color of the evening sky.”

“His blue eyes were very dark...Will's were the colour of the sky just on the edge of the night...”

“The sky is always beautiful. Even when it’s dark or rainy or cloudy, it’s still beautiful to look at”

“How do you know, when you think blue — when you say blue — that you are talking about the same blue as anyone else?You cannot get a grip on blue.Blue is the sky, the sea, a god’s eye, a devil’s tail, a birth, a strangulation, a virgin’s cloak, a monkey’s ass. It’s a butterfly, a bird, a spicy joke, the saddest song, the brightest day.Blue is sly, slick, it slides into the room sideways, a slippery trickster.This is a story about the color blue, and like blue, there’s nothing true about it. Blue is beauty, not truth. ‘True blue’ is a ruse, a rhyme; it’s there, then it’s not. Blue is a deeply sneaky color.”