Sentence examples similar to orange lit from inspiring English sources

That night in the Mayfair Hotel, with the window shades open to the peculiar spring snow and orange-lit darkness, I experienced my own strange dream.

Median's style favours a shimmering, high-contrast texture with cold blue and grey exteriors, making the warm, orange-lit theatre even more inviting.

The hot spot for straight revelers is Andy Wahloo (69, rue des Gravilliers; 33-1-42-71-20-38), a vaultedecoratedlit room decorated with kitschy Arabic film posters, soda bottles and detergent boxes.

Various venues, Thu to 7 Dec JA Cult Norwegian multi-instrumentalists Jaga Jazzist join electronica, drum'n'bass, prog rock, classical music, free jazz, Afrobeat and more with a powerful theatrical sense: shadowy musicians move like wraiths around stages rammed with keyboards, vibes, guitars, saxes, traditional brass and pulsating, orange-lit drums.

Shot in Gothenburg, the footage features Sarah von Reis dancing in anonymous, smoke filled, neon-lit locations while Jesper Blomberg (both friends of the band) watches a car succumb to the smoke and flames of a glowing red flare before the two unite in orange-lit darkness under fluttering confetti.

From Manchester to Truro, Glasgow to Fratton, Cardiff to Ipswich, the whole of life has passed through its orange-lit doors.

I remember walking with old best friends to an orange-lit parking lot, books clutched in a clichéd-but-earnest way to our chests, hurrying to get home, to climb into our childhood beds and spend the night in a fantasy world as familiar as our own.

The most obvious is a towering building that is a Sheraton Hotel, or so the screaming, orange neon-lit letters would have you believe.

Lit orange and fall-like candles for a touch.

Toggling over to Bora Bora led to more good things — a tranquil beach beneath a toothpaste-blue sky, a palm tree extending up above, its underside lit orange-gold with pseudo-sunlight.

Writing into the late hours of the night, inside the SUV as it barreled around the mountain cliff edges (fighting off nausea to get the words down), in the orange-walled restaurant lit by candles where I romanced only myself, on the train without air conditioning in 110 degrees, sweat dropping on the pages, smearing ink.