“If I were the color blue, and you were the color orange, I wouldn't want you around all the time, because who wants to be constantly complimented?”

“Love I want you for my mate because you have eyes the color of smoke. Because you are wicked sexy, because you're fearless and have a smart-ass mouth, and because you kiss like fire. Why wouldn't I want a woman like you around me the rest of my life?”

“...when I met you, you were so beautiful, the air around you vibrated with color ...”

“It wasn't a pretty sunset. The colors were as expected: violet clouds, bright orange and pink underneath, against the pale blue sky. But the clouds were high cirrus, wispy, and crossed with the contrails of F-16s, a colorful glowing mess. I said, "It looks like God barfed a rainbow.”

“She had amber-colored eyes. Or maybe they were blue, and I was confusing their color with her name, which was Amber.”

“Colors. Would it be green or blue today? Maybe white—my favorite. A dark voice in the back of my mind offered no color at all as an alternative. I smothered that voice. The days of no color were simply too hard to bear. I needed color today.”