Color (n.) seems to sit out there on the thing, exactly like our sensation of it — a childhood habit so old that it feels certain.
Color (n.) in objects is only an unknown something that produces in us a vivid sensation; admitting the ignorance guards against error, forgetting it breeds error.
Color (n.) touches only one sense and leaves only a confused image, while shape and motion are confirmed by touch, sight and hearing together.
Color (n.) is thought so obscurely, like sound, smell, heat and cold, that I cannot even tell whether it is the idea of anything real.
Color (n.) is not in the green leaf as I see it; there is only some variety in the body that corresponds to my perception without resembling it.