October 2009 Archives
“[W]hat vexes me is that Albert does not seem to be as delighted as he—hoped—as I—thought I was—when—I don’t like to use dashes, but here I can’t express myself any other way— . . . .”
—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther, 1774; translated by Burton Pike, 2004.
—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther, 1774; translated by Burton Pike, 2004.
“Wilhelm, what is the world to our heart without love? What a magic lantern is without light! As soon as you put the little lamp inside, the most colorful pictures appear on your white wall!”
—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther, 1774; translated by Burton Pike, 2004.
“On 11 December 361 I entered Constantinople as Roman Emperor. Snow fell at slow intervals and the great flakes turned like feathers in air so still that the day was almost warm. The sky was low and the color of tarnished silver. There was no color that day in nature, only in man, but what color! It was a day of splendor. . . .
Quite alone, I passed through the gate and took possession of the City of Constantine.
Trumpets sounded. The people cheered. I was particularly struck by the brightness of the clothes they wore. I don’t know whether it was the white setting which made the reds and greens, the yellows and blues almost unbearably vivid, or the fact that I had been away too long in northern countries where all colors are as muted and as dim as the forests in which the people live.”
“Constantius wore the purple. The robe fell stiffly to his crimson shoes. In one hand he held an ivory staff, while the other rested on the arm of the throne, palm upward, holding the golden orb.”
—Gore Vidal, Julian, 1964.
“By purple death I’m seized and fate supreme.”
—Homer, The Iliad, eighth century B.C. According to Ammianus Marcellinus in book XV of his history, Flavius Claudius Julianus recited this line upon his elevation to Caesar by Constantius II on November 6, 355 C.E. Such elevations had often proven fatal to others. [Wikipedia]
“Through the demon eye he saw Solon, tense behind the steering wheel, holding the truck on its true course until he reached the safety of the other side, rain still falling like pennies from heaven, dirty copper, the headlights, demon eyes themselves, laying beams like gangplanks on a pirate ship.”
—Lewis Nordan, Wolf Whistle, 1993.
“A high grade of marijuana, typically brownish- or greenish-gold in colour, originally grown around Acapulco, a seaside resort on the west coast of Mexico. 1965–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Beer. Also amber liquid, amber nectar. 1959–.” [Australian]
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. to put the black on to blackmail. . . . 3. To blackmail. 1928–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“An amphetamine tablet. 1963–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Am exceptionally pure form of heroin originating in Mexico. 1986–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A nickname for a red-haired person. 1932–.” [Australian]
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A state of extreme fear or terror. 1861–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A loud and alarming noise; a great din or commotion; to cry (yell, etc.) blue murder, to shout desperately, as if being attacked. 1859–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A notational credit for an achievement; favour in the eyes of another, esp. gained by sycophantic or servile behaviour. 1963–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. A sycophant. 1939–. . . . 2. To curry favour (with); to flatter. 1939–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A drug consisting of heroin diluted with caffeine and strychnine. 1974–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Marijuana of poor quality. 1957–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Inexperienced. 1949–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. A dollar bill. 1870–. 2. surfing = Greenie. 1965–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A large wave before it breaks. 1962–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“An inexperienced person, a beginner. 1912–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Banana peel used as an intoxicant. 1967–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“An opaque playing marble. 1908–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A person whose professed left-wing principles are insincere or not matched by their lifestyle. 1929–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A white person. 1926–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A cocktail of gin, grenadine, egg white, etc. 1929–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Politically ‘pink’ or mildly Communist. 1925–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A light-skinned African-American woman, a white girl. 1930–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“The drug LSD. 1967–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A tablet of the stimulant Drinamyl, an amphetamine. 1961–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A capsule of the barbituates Amytral and Seconal, of which one end is blue and the other red. 1970–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“An anarchist or republican; a Russian Bolshevik, a communist or extreme socialist. . . . 1851–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A fast goods train or lorry; priority freight. 1927–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A cent; an insignificant amount of money (in negative expressions). 1839–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. Rough, strong whisky. 1819–. . . . 2. Tomato ketchup. 1927–. 3. As adjective applied to aeroplane flights on which passengers are unable to get enough sleep because of differences in time-zones between the place of departure and arrival, etc. 1968–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. Sexy, passionate; lively. 1887–. . . . 3. A frankfurter or hot dog. 1892–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. An earthy woman jazz-singer. 1926–. 2. A female lover or girlfriend. 1936–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Cheap red wine. 1919–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“1. Tomato ketchup. 1918-59. 2. Tinned tomatoes. 1919-45.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A southern rural white; hence, a reactionary. 1830–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A French oath. 1869–. . . . [Literally ‘sacred blue’, euphemism for sacré Dieu ‘sacred God’.]”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A diamond or other gem. 1822–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“An act of vomiting. 1964–.” [Australian]
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Failing sanity or intelligence; esp. in phr. to have white ants, to be eccentric or dotty. 1908–. . . . [From the destructiveness of termites or white ants.]” [Australian]
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A good man; a hero. 1975–”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Inferior or illegally distilled whisky. 1921–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A potent colourless alcoholic drink; illegally distilled whisky. 1889–”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“Morphine, heroin, or cocaine. 1908–”
“A white person; also, white people collectively. 1942–”
“A coward. 1930–”
“Yellow fever. 1836–.”
—Stone the Crows: Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, second edition, 2008.
“A phenobarbitone tablet. 1953–.”
“It was then that it happened. As I looked at the setting sun, I was possessed by light. What is given to few men was given to me. I saw the One. I was absorbed by Helios and my veins coursed not with blood but light.
I saw it all. I saw the simplicity at the heart of creation.”
“Constantius was a man of overwhelming dignity. . . . He wore the purple, a heavy robe which hung from shoulder to heel; on his head was a fillet of silver set with pearls.”
—Gore Vidal, Julian, 1964.
“Ellipses . . . are . . . great.”
—Oscar Wilde (attributed)
“Everything has shape, if you look for it. There is no escape from form.”
“Nothing is without meaning: not without reason are blushes red. My uncle Hanif said, ‘Watch out for the Communists!’ and my mother turned scarlet; politics and emotions were united in her cheeks. . . .”
“We were led down a lush black carpet—midnight-black, black as lies, crow-black, anger-black, the black of ‘hai-yo, black man!’; in short, a dark rug. . . .”
“No colours except green and black the walls are green the sky is black (there is no roof) the stars are green the Widow is green but her hair is black as black.”
“Ghani the landowner stands beneath a large oil painting of Diana the Huntress, framed in squiggly gold.”
“ ‘Green chutney,’ I request, ‘Bright green—green as grasshoppers.’ ”
“ ‘Blue,’ the young priest said earnestly. ‘All available evidence, my daughter, suggests that Our Lord Jesus was the most beauteous, crystal shade of pale sky blue.’
The little woman behind the wooden latticed window of the confessional fell silent for a moment. An anxious, cogitating silence. Then: ‘But how, Father? People are not blue. No people are blue in the whole big world!’
Bewilderment of little woman, matched by perplexity of the priest . . . because this is not how she’s supposed to react. The Bishop had said, ‘Problems with recent converts . . . when they ask about colour they’re almost always that . . . important to build bridges, my son. Remember,’ thus spake the Bishop, ‘God is love; and the Hindu love-god, Krishna, is always depicted with blue skin. Tell them blue; it will be a sort of bridge between the faiths; gently does it, you follow; and besides blue is a neutral sort of colour, avoids the usual colour problems, gets you away from black and white: yes, on the whole I’m sure it’s the one to choose.’ Even bishops can be wrong, the young father is thinking, but meanwhile he’s in quite a spot, because the little woman is clearly getting into a state, has begun issuing a severe reprimand through the wooden grill: ‘What type of answer is blue, Father, how to believe such a thing? You should write to Holy Father Pope in Rome, he will surely put you straight; but one does not have to be Pope to know that the mens are not ever blue!’ The young father closes his eyes; breaths deeply; counter-attacks. ‘Skins have been dyed blue,’ he stumbles. ‘The Picts; the blue Arab nomads; with the benefits of education, my daughter, you would see . . .’ But now a violent snort echoes in the confessional. ‘What, Father? You are comparing Our Lord to junglee wild men? O Lord, I must catch my ears for shame!’ . . . And there is more, much more, while the young father whose stomach is giving him hell suddenly has the inspiration that there is something more important lurking behind this blue business, and asks the question; whereupon tirade gives way to tears, and the young father says panickily, ‘Come, come, surely the Divine Radiance of Our Lord is not a matter of mere pigment?’ ”
—Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children, 1981. (p. 103)
“Aadam’s eyes are a clear blue, the astonishing blue of mountain sky, which has a habit of dripping into the pupils of Kashmiri men. . . .”
—Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children, 1981. (p. 14)
“By the time the rains came at the end of June, the foetus was fully formed inside her womb. . . . What had been (at the beginning) no bigger than a full stop had expanded into a comma, a word, a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter; now it was bursting into more complex developments, becoming, one might say, a book—perhaps an encyclopedia—even a whole language . . .”
—Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children, 1981. (p. 100)
“Life is a Canvas on which we all paint
Whatever picture we may.
Rich man and poor man, the devil, the saint,
All are painting pictures every day.
Some paint in colors of wonderful hue,
While others use colors of strife.
Every word, every thought, everything that we do,
goes down on our canvas of life.
So—dip your brush in the sunshine
And keep on painting away
Make love a duty,
And you will find beauty,
Wherever your eyes may stray.
Life will seem worthwhile living,
And skies will never be grey.
So dip your brush in the sunshine,
And keep on painting away!”
—J.C. Johnson and Andy Razaf, “Dip Your Brush in the Sunshine”, 1928.
“Strictly speaking there is neither line nor colour in nature. It is man that creates line and colour. They are twin abstractions which derive their equal status from their common origin. . . .
Line and colour both of them have the power to set one thinking and dreaming, the pleasures which spring from them are of different natures, but of a perfect equality and absolutely independent of the subject of the picture.”
“Edgar Poe loves to set his figures in action against greenish or purplish backgrounds, in which we can glimpse the phosphorescence of decay and sniff the coming storm. . . . Space is extended by opium, which also adds a magical accent to every tint, a more meaningful resonance to every sound. Sometimes magnificent vistas, flooded with colour and light, open out suddenly in the midst of his landscapes, in whose depths loom Oriental cities and fantastic edifices, vaporized by the distance over which the sun pours its showers of golden rain.”
—Charles Baudelaire, ‘Edgar Allan Poe: His Life and Works’, The Painter of Modern Life and Other Essays, translated by Jonathan Mayne, 1964.
“He glanced at the row of birch-trees impassive in their yellows and greens, with their white bark gleaming in the sunshine. ‘To die . . . let me get killed tomorrow and have done with it . . . let everything else carry on, but with me gone.’ He had a clear vision of his own non-existence in this life. And suddenly those birch trees, with their light and shade, the wispy clouds and the smoke-plumes rising from the fires, everything around him seemed to have been transformed into something terribly ominous. A cold shiver ran down his back. He got quickly to his feet, strode out of the barn and went for a walk.”