Frankly I don't listen to lyrics (a problem in that I apparently work in musical theatre) I just want a good tune that doesn't require the use of too much grey matter.
I like grey characters; fantasy for too long has been focused on very stereotypical heroes and villains.
These little grey cells. It is up to them.
Grey is the devil's favorite color.
The job has left me with a healthy disregard for what you might call Public Life. I have no desire now to go to receptions, to be seen at gatherings of the great and the good, to stand and be bored to death by men in grey suits.
What is a woman that you forsake her, And the hearth-fire and the home-acre, To go with the old grey Widow-maker?
There is also an insulting speech about 'one grey day just like another'. You might as well talk about one green tree like another.
Mind is not simply the collection of aggregate cells inside your brain. If you are only the grey matter, then when that dies, you won't exist any more. It's not that easy. You exist forever.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures, Russet lawns and fallows grey, Where the nibbling flocks do stray, Mountains on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
I think I grew a grey watching you procrastinate.
Human nature is not black and white but black and grey.
There are only two forces at work in this world- black and white. Only people are grey.
Her pupils have taken on a lonely hue, like grey clouds reflected in a calm lake.
Most of life is grey, with a little tiny bit of black and white. We're always subject to what I call the compression industry, which is an attempt to compress a million shades of grey with a little bit of black and white to just a hundred, or to ten, or to one!
Over to my left is the big grey wall in front of the church. Are we the Thoughts of God? a poster asks. No, I realise. It's the reverse.
The Rolling Stones were an inkling towards an appreciation of the unity of music, dance and words. Any of the black R&B people who had a stage show that involved dancing, music and words did the same thing, except that I thought Jagger's words were good, his music was good and his dancing was good. I spoke to him about Blake and tried to get him to sing [William] Blake's The Grey Monk, to use his words as lyrics. He didn't do it. In the end, I did it myself.
I'm sprouting more than one wonderful grey hair.
All cats are grey in the dark.
Even when I'm old and grey I'll probably be cruising around and bunny-hopping and stuff. In the words of the Descendents, "I don't want to grow up. "
My days could be described as an ever changing palette of blues, greens, browns, and golds. Mostly because of surfing and garden-gazing. On tour, the colors are desaturated by florescent lights and dull grey carpets.
