“Toward the evening the sky took on the same color as the fires. Everything took on that color, the sky, the buildings, even the ground. Just before the sunset the red in the sky would deepen to the color of blood. I imagined the sky bleeding. I imagined the heavens suffering with us. To this day a red sunset reminds me of the bleeding sky of Auschwitz.”

“Tonight the sky is the color of my heart, bleeding crimson for my love”

“The sunset like a blacksmith, was beating the sky into glowing red blades.”

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”

“It was early evening when they walked outside, the sky the color of pink lemonade.”

“It is sometimes said that scientists are unromantic, that their passion to figure out robs the world of beauty and mystery. But is it not stirring to understand how the world actually works — that white light is made of colors, that color is the way we perceive the wavelengths of light, that transparent air reflects light, that in so doing it discriminates among the waves, and that the sky is blue for the same reason that the sunset is red? It does no harm to the romance of the sunset to know a little bit about it.”