“but i know blue only blue lonely blue without you”

“ Blue! My mind screams it along with everyone else. Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue. I thought it. I wanted to think it. I wasn't thinking yellow. I was thinking blue, and the wizard said blue, so everyone heard me thinking blue! Maybe, if this really, really works, none of my colors will be silent anymore.”

“I can hazard a guess, but I'll never know/ Why you put these walls up, I can't get through/It's as though you want to be lonely and blue.”

“The night stayed outside. She was surprised. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Instead, blue things flew in, pieces of glass or tin, or necklaces of blue diamond, perhaps. The air was the blue of a pool when there are shadows, when clouds cross the turquoise surface, when you suspect something contagious is leaking, something camouflaged and disrupted. There is only this infected blue enormity, elongating defiantly. The blue that knows you and where you live and it's never going to forget.”

“There's something about blue eyes.The kind of blue that startles you every time they're lifted in your direction. The kind of blue that makes you ache for them to look at you again. Not the blue green or blue gray, the blue that's just blue.Cricket has those eyes.”

“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.”