Quotes About Eyes

She is possibly the last child they will bring into living, and she is extremely delicate. She dislikes what little food they have but loves chicken and coffee. So, steadily, they have bumped off a long string of chickens to feed her, and she drinks two or three cups of black and parboiled coffee at every meal. Her eyes shine like burning oil and almost continuously she dances with drunkenness.

and every time, he was still more acutely aware of their eyes on him and of the thoughts behind their eyes

Could I be your hero, or your villain? I guess it just depends in whose eyes

And no one realizes we should all, always, look like that, each with his eyes full of horror at his own, inescapable solitude.

País Tus ojos son de donde La nieve no ha manchado La luz y entre las palmas El aire Invisible es de claro.

Tus ojos que están llenos de selvas y son un manifiesto, desordenadamente me hacen aventurero y revolucionario

It is not learning we need at all. Individuals need learning but the culture needs something else, the pulse of light on the sea, the warm urge of huddling together to keep out the cold. We need empathy, we need the eyes that still can weep.

Night hath a thousand eyes.

She is wonderful," Cheney said a little breathlessly. "But I can see that long rides on her would be tiring. She doesn't just walk along, does she?" "No," Shiloh said in a low tone, his eyes alight. "She dances." He was staring directly at Cheney, and she lowered her eyes and blushed.

Count yourself fortunate." He made an elegant sweep of his hand toward the sun. "Daylight does not make them turn to ash, but they become bloody damn infants, whinging on about irritated eyes and sluggish limbs and so forth.

Husband?" Averill's voice was growing shrill with worry as she asked, "Have you swooned?" I'm a warrior, wife. Warriors do no' swoon," Kade growled, forcing away the faintness trying to lay claim to him. Oh," she said, sounding doubtful. "It's just that your eyes were closed." I was resting them," he snapped. I see," she murmured, and for some reason that irritated the hell out of him.

Clever plastic surgery can restore an appearance of youth, but nothing changes the expression of age and experience in the eyes.

We watched each other's eyes. We were as strangers, in that moment — as intimate as strangers — for strangers know more of us, and can judge of us more without reproach than ever those we love.

But we glared into each other's eyes like men who have ruined each other already, and who only wait to make the full disaster known

Lily asked, "What do you mean when you say Number One's eyes were different?" "Like a cat's eyes. You know what a cat's eyes look like?" "No," said Katie. "Because my cat is so completely lazy I've never seen her eyes actually open." "Which?" said Lily. "Trish?" "She didn't move for a week. Dad thought she was dead. We were about to bury her when someone noticed the chicken was missing from the counter.

With her honey hair and perfect posture, she had that porcelain-doll fragility that most men wanted...as if she might shatter if someone so much as touched her. In his youth, he'd been certain he wanted that sort of woman: the kind he could protect, the kind that made him feel like a man. But years on the battlefield had taught him to appreciate a woman who could stand at his side and hold her own with enemy, who has some flesh on her bones and some fire in her eyes.

He laughed lightly, but his eyes told another story. Ambury could smile ever so amiably while the daggers within his wit sliced one to shreds.

Achilles' eyes lift. They are bloodshot and dead. "I wish he had let you all die.

I looked at her, as vivid in my doorway as the moon in the autumn sky. Her eyes held mine, gray and steady. It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment's carelessness. If I had ever believed it, I no longer did.

An ugly man, with a face sharp like a weasel and a habit of running a flickering tongue over his lips before he speaks. But most ugly of all are his eyes: blue, bright blue. When people see them, they flinch. Such things are freakish. He is lucky he was not killed at birth.

His eyes were unwavering, green flecked with gold. A surety rose in me, lodged in my throat. I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.

His eyes were brown and warm as summer earth. His words were simple. They had no art to them, which of course was also art. He always knew how to show himself to best advantage.

I gaped at the cold shock of his beauty, deep-green eyes, features fine as a girl's. It struck from me a sudden, springing dislike. I had not changed so much, nor so well.

When he smiled, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled like a leaf held to flame.