Quotes About Eyes

Open up your eyes for me people, the prophecies are true and the beast is real.

The eyes are the true reflection of a man's age and sensibilities.

if this is a dream, then look in my eye's, am i asleep, no i'm alive, just can't believe that, this is my life, 'cause every moment is just so wild

I wake up the next morning and dress in all black, secret spy style. My mother eyes me and asks if I'm depressed, and I say, "No, I'm just cool.

If iT was Possible To Go The Way our Mind think and our Eyes Sometimes See, Life Will give more Pleasure to Us.

Our Nature is so Beautiful that we come eyes to short if we be on the right place. Jan Jansen

Open Your Eyes, Enjoy Life and take care Friendship with our Heart. Jan Jansen

fine tailoring couldn't cloak the primitive danger of the desert. The desert was about life. Death. Survival. And she saw the desert in his eyes, dark gold like the Saharan sand.

You're getting me wet." He looked me in the eyes for the first time, and the corners of his mouth turned upward. "Although I suppose I shouldn't complain about that since it's like your trademark or something. If we're going to hang out together , I'll need to start wearing my raincoat." "Are we going to hang out?" He tilted his head and considered me lazily. "I've always wanted my own elf.

And I told you that you're beautiful—in some really poetic way even Mr. Hoyer would think was sonnet worthy." "What did you say?" "How about that your eyes shine like unspoken promises?

Three matches one by one struck in the night The first to see your face in its entirety The second to see your eyes The last to see your mouth And the darkness all around to remind me of all these As I hold you in my arms.

The hollows around her eyes were darkly glamorous, her mouth sullen: she had the beauty of an insomniac.

The eyes, you know, are the windows to the soul. You can see who, or what, is living inside." "How

Her eyes are cold and calculating. She regards me like I'm a stain on the floor, a blemish that needs to be rubbed

Rooth Na Jana Tum Se Kahoon To Main in Aankhon Mein Jo Rahoon To!

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses

Lessons hide in his wrinkles. Bells ding in the oldness of eyes. Did he by, any chance, tell children that there are such monstrous things as peace and goodwill...a corrupter of youth no doubt...

Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)

Only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses. Nobody, not even the rain has such small hands.

i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

never boast your dead beauties, mine being unto me sweeter (of whose shy delicious glance things which never more shall be, perfect things of faerie, are intense inhabitants; in whose warm superlative body do distinctly live all sweet cities passed away— in her flesh at break of day are the smells of Nineveh, in her eyes when day is gone are the cries of Babylon.)

a noone who,till their and your returning, spends the forever of his loneliness dreaming their eyes have opened to your morning

Can you not speak straight? Must everything be couched in that sinister poetry you affect? He seemed, for one second, taken aback, and then he let out a genuine laugh, oddly pure in contrast to his hoarse voice. His eyes lit up to the shade of a summer's day.

Here. After so long waiting. Her purple eyes. Torn cloak. Skin pale, sheer as ice. Exhausted. But unafraid.