Sad preacher nailed upon the coloured door of time

"Her lips were neither pink nor painted. They were somewhere between vermilion and orange, almost like fire, the colour of pale flame."
-- Alexander Solzhenitsyn, Cancer Ward (trans Nicholas Bethell and David Burg), p186

"Number 99 was an eviscerated ceramics plant. During the war a succession of blazing explosions had burst among the stock of thousands of chemical glazes, fused them, and splashed them into a wild rainbow reproduction of a lunar crater. Great splotches of magenta, violet, bice green, burnt umber, and chrome yellow were burned into the stone walls. Long streams of orange, crimson, and imperial purple had erupted through windows and doors to streak the streets and surrounding ruins with slashing brush strokes. This became the Rainbow House of Chooka Frood."

- Alfred Bester, The Demolished Man

"Seigel put up a hotel-casino such as Las Vegas had never seen and called it the Flamingo... Everybody drove out on Route 91 just to gape... Such colors! All the new electrochemical pastels of the Florida littoral: tangerine, broiling magenta, livid pink, incarnadine, fuchsia demure, Congo ruby, methyl green, viridine, aquamarine, phenosafranine, incandescent orange, scarlet-fever purple, cyanic blue, tesselated bronze, hospital fruit-basket orange."

- Tom Wolfe, "Las Vegas (What?) Las Vegas (Can't Hear You! Too noisy) Las Vegas!!!" in The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby.