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Nature, at all events, humanly speaking, is manifestly very fond of color; for she has made nothing without it. her skies are blue; her fields, green; her waters vary with her skies; her animals, vegetables, minerals, are all colored. she paints a great any of them in apparently superfluous hues, as if to show the dullest eye how she loves color.
-Leigh Hunt
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Nature, At All Events, Humanly Speaking, Is

Leigh Hunt
Nature, at all events, humanly speaking, is manifestly very fond of color; for she has made nothing without it. her skies are blue; her fields, green; her waters vary with her skies; her animals, vegetables, minerals, are all colored. she paints a great any of them in apparently superfluous hues, as if to show the dullest eye how she loves color.
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Nature Eye Animal

More From Leigh Hunt

Most eyes have more than one color, but usually they're related. blue eyes may have two shades of blue, or blue and gray, or blue and green, or even a fleck or two of brown. most people don't notice that. when i first went to get my state id card, the form asked for eye color. i tried to write in all the colors in my own eyes, but the space wasnt big enough. they told me to put 'brown'. i put 'brown', but that is not the only color in my eyes. it is just the color that people see because they do not really look atr other people's eyes.
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We walked on the beach, fed blue corn ships to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy and all the other free samples my mom brought home from work. i guess i should explain the blue food. see, gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. they had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. but ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. she baked blue birthday cakes. she mixed blueberry smoothies. she bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop.
Mom Beach Home
Just me, just me sweet marie, she loves just me (she also loves maurice mcghee). no she don't, she loves just me (she also loves louise dupree). no she don't, she loves just me (she also loves the willow tree). no she don't, she loves just me! (poor, poor fool, why can't you see she can love others and still love thee.)
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The fields are snowbound no longer; there are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green. the snow has been caught up into the sky- so many white clouds-and the blue of the sky is cold. now the sun walks in the forest, he touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers; they shiver, and wake from slumber. over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls. yet is the forest full of the sound of tears.... a wind dances over the fields. shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter, yet the little blue lakes tremble and the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.
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Bastian had climbed a dune of purplish-red sand and all around him he saw nothing but hill after hill of every imaginable color. each hill revealed a shade or tint that occured in no other. the nearest was cobalt blue, another was saffron yellow, then came crimson red, then indigo, apple green, sky blue, orange, peach, mauve, turquoise blue, lilac, moss green, ruby red, burnt umber, indian yellow, vermillion, lapis lazuli, and so on from horizon to horizon. and between the hill, separating color from color, flowed streams of gold and silver sand.
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Blue is the insides of something mysterious and lonely. i'd look at fish and birds, thinking the sky and water colored them. the first abyss is blue. an artist must go beyond the mercy of satin or water-from a gutty hue to that which is close to royal purple. all seasons and blossoms inbetween. lavender. theatrical and outrageous electric. almost gray. true and false blue. water and oil. the gas jet breathing in oblivion. the unstruck match. the blue of absence. the blue of deep presence. the insides of something perfect.
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