I went about the job in a direct way. I took the hatchet in both my hands and vigorously beat the fish on the head with the hammerhead (I still didn’t have the stomach to use the sharp edge). The dorado did the most extraordinary thing as it died: it began to flash all kinds of colours in rapid succession. Blue, green, red, gold, and violet flickered and shimmered neon-like on its surface as it struggled. I felt I was beating a rainbow to death.
Red lips like a living, laughing rose.
Not that the Red Indian will ever possess the broad lands of America. At least I presume not. But his ghost will.
There was a frosty rime upon the trees, which, in the faint light of the clouded moon, hung upon the smaller branches like dead garlands. Withered leaves crackled and snapped beneath his feet, as he crept softly on towards the house. The desolation of a winter night sat brooding on the earth, and in the sky. But, the red light came cheerily towards him from the windows; figures passed and repassed there; and the hum and murmur of voices greeted his ear sweetly.
We all shed salty tears and shed red blood. All is one.
Meanwhile, there are some traditional battleground states - like Ohio and Iowa - that are becoming older, whiter and less educated. That's turning them from true battlegrounds into more reliable red states.
Reminds me of the red dress you wore the first time I had you. That was it for me, you know. You devastated me. There was no coming back from that.
And I tried it and I felt, I guess I must have been pulled in by the red light of television and now I've been on TV since 1992.
Wembley way is beginning to blacked with people in terms of red and blue
I'm a chick, I love clothes, and I'm also in the entertainment industry, so I've done a lot of photo shoots, video shoots, red carpets. So I learned very quickly that fashion is going to be and will be a big part of what I do.
Let it be said that the makeup artist at '90210' made me look better for the fake red carpet than I've ever looked on an actual red carpet.
The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she.
Maybe the reality-based fractions of red and blue America are reaching a sort of consensus: Just as Republicans are beginning to get why George Bush makes so many Americans want to rip their hair out, a lot of Democrats have finally, viscerally come to understand Clinton-loathing. Mutual, symmetrical disillusionment; it's a start.
I never thought my face would be on the cover of a Red Bull Six Pack.
Should you happen to notice that another person is extremely tall or overweight, eats too much or declines convivial drinks, has red hair or goes about in a wheelchair, ought to get married or ought not to be pregnant -- see if you can refrain from bringing these astonishing observations to that person's attention.
She is nether fish nor flesh, nor good red herring.
It has always irked me as improper that there are still so many people for whom the sky is no more than a mass of random points of light. I do not see why we should recognize a house, a tree, or a flower here below and not, for example, the red Arcturus up there in the heavens as it hangs from its constellation Bootes, like a basket hanging from a balloon.
I once lost a bill betting on the Red Sox,. . . But that's another topic.
Nothing attracts attention like a red dress.
Such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.