Your code number is 59200 stroke 5

“‘Your code number is 59200 stroke 5.’ He added with pride, ‘Of course
I am 59200. You’ll number your sub-agents 59200 stroke 5 stroke 1 and
so on. Got the idea?’”

—Graham Greene, Our Man in Havana, 1958.

there’s no pick and choose with a bue-plate

“‘There’ll be wine, won’t there?’
    ‘Look at the table.’ Small individual milk-bottles
stood by every place. ‘Didn’t you read your invitiation? An American
blue-plate lunch in honour of our great American allies.’
    ‘Blue-plate?‘
    ‘Surely you know what a blue-plate is, man? They
shove the whole meal at you under your nose, already dished up on your
plate—roast turkey, cranberry sauce, sausages and carrots and French
fried. I can’t bear French fried, but there’s no pick and choose with a
bue-plate.’
    ‘No pick and choose?’
    ‘You eat what you’re given. That’s democracy, man.’”

—Graham Greene, Our Man in Havana, 1958.

Vernacular Baton Rouge: ARE YOU THE FATHER?

I loved blue, and now orange

“At first, as a girl, I loved blue, and now orange; but I find orange
is the complement of blue. I only completed blue then, I made blue more
forcible.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

Ruby-colored trees and a sky of orange

“[T]here was a garden, a tangled and wild garden one could get lost in.
And there were colored glass windows and through the core of the
designs, a button of multicolored glass, one could see a prismatic,
colored world in oranges, blues, water-greens, rubies. I kept my eye
glued to those stones for hours, loooking at this prismatic world.
Another world. It was my first sight of another world. Colors.
Ruby-colored trees and a sky of orange.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

an evocation of the fairy tale

“What I sought in clothes was an evocation of the fairy tale. In New
York, in winter, posing for a painter, I once arrived at nine in the
morning in a vivid red velvet dress.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

Spanish dresses

“The merry-go-round turned and sang, and I imagined myself embarking on
a dancing career with Miralles, dancing, which was so much like flying,
from city to city, receiving bouquets, praise in newspapers, with
joyous music at the center always, pleasure as colorful as the Spanish
dresses, all red, orange, black and gold, gold and purple, and red and
white.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

The light and the sky in the body

“A blue sky and the sun on the wall. The nurse had raised me to see the
new day. I lay there, feeling the sky, and myself one with the sky,
feeling the sun and myself one with the sun, and abandoning myself to
the immensity and to God. God penetrated my whole body. I trembled and
shivered with an immense joy. Cold, and fever and light, an
illumination, a visitation, through the whole body, the shiver of a
presence. The light and the sky in the body, God in the body and I
melting into God. I melted into God. No image, I felt space, gold,
purity, ecstasy, immensity, a profound ineluctable communion. I wept
with joy.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

We talked about the colors we love

“She says, staring intently, ‘I thought your eyes were blue at first.
They are strange and beautiful, grey and gold, with those long black
lashes. You are the most graceful woman I have ever seen. You glide
when you walk.’
    We talked about the colors we love. She always wears black and purple. I love warm colors, red and gold.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

Violet rugs and stained-glass windows

“Russian voices and June’s incandescent face. Violet rugs and
stained-glass windows, dusty lights and the plaintive chant of strings.
June is the essence of all these, of candles, incense, flambées, fine
liqueurs, exotic foods.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.