Quotes About Eyes

Libby Strout." His mouth and eyes are serious. I don't think I've ever seen him so serious. "You are wanted.

I love: the way her eyes spark when we're talking or when she's telling me something she wants me to know, the way she mouths the words to herself when she's reading and concentrating, the way she looks at me as if there's only me, as if she can see past the flesh and bone and bullshit right into the me that's there, the one I don't even see myself.

I want you to look at somebody here's come to visit you." Jackie watched the young guy scowl as Nicolet shook him again and his eyes opened.

His eyes I saw too. Large and profound, they seemed to increase in depth as the dark fell on them, then to resurface as the lighthouse beam caught them again, as if symbolising in rapid sequence the constant recurrence of night and day.

his eyes burning with the unspeakable torture of his impotence. His hands had refused once more to produce anything clear or lifelike (45)

The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness; they no longer gave the impression of looking at the objects around her: they appeared always to gaze beyond, and far beyond—you would have said out of this world.

His features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung on his shoulders; and his eyes, too, were like a ghostly Catherine's, with all their beauty annihilated.

It was nothing less than murder, in her eyes

so foes persue, and cold allies mistrust me, every one: let me be false in others' eyes if faithful in my own

and eyes, had they been agreeable in expression, that would have been irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible heart, the only sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation

There were no signs of the ruffian he used to be. Only his eyes, I noticed, were still full of fire.

Their eyes are precisely similar, and they are those of Catherine Earnshaw.

It was a quiet way - He asked if I was his - I made no answer of the tongue But answer of the eyes - And then He bore me on Before this mortal noise With swiftness, as of Chariots and distance, as of Wheels. This World did drop away As acres from the feet of one that leaneth from Balloon Upon an Ether Street. The Gulf behind was not, The Continents were new - Eternity was due. No Seasons were to us - It was not Night nor Morn - But Sunrise stopped upon the place And Fastened in Dawn.

I like a look of Agony, Because I know it's true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate a Throe— The Eyes glaze once—and that is Death— Impossible to feign The Beads upon the Forehead By homely Anguish strung.

A heaven in a gaze, A heaven of heavens, the privilege Of one another's eyes.

Not "Revelation" – tis – that waits But our unfurnished eyes –

Hay algo que me gusta en la agonía, y es que sé que es verdad; los hombres no simulan convulsiones, no imitan el dolor. Unos ojos se vidrian, y es la muerte. Imposible de fingir las gotas de sudor sobre la frente que la inhábil angustia va ensartando.

Your body - every body is a marvel. A wonder of creation. [...] The day your first opened your eyes, Anna, God asked just one thing: that you live.

I looked at my stepmother, and she stared back at me, and our eyes were like mirrors set opposite each other, making a corridor of reflections, infinitely hollow.

My eyes dawdled across the missalette. I had never noticed before that the official title of the 'Lord have mercy' prayer was the gracious phrase 'Invitation to Sorrow'. Hey there, Sorrow, how've you been keeping? Come on in. If your bike doesn't have lights you can always crash on our sofa tonight. Oh, so you'll be staying a while, Sorrow? Planning to get to know me better? Grand, so. There's tea in the pot. All

I believe anyone could light a cigarette from the sparks that fly from your eyes!

Alicia, her eyes shining.

That's what I thought. When I looked that human in the face, I figured he was either a genius or crazy.' Artemis's cool eyes glared at them from the screen. 'So which is it?' asked Foaly. 'A genius or crazy?' Root grabbed his tri-barreled blaster from the gun rack. 'What's the difference?' he snapped, strapping his trusty weapon to his hip.

Je ogen. Ze zijn veranderd. Je hebt nu één blauw oog en één hazelnootbruin.' Artemis glimlachte. 'Jij ook. Die zijn tijdens de overgang verwisseld.