Quotes About Eye

And were you cornered by her, eye to eye, you would see that there are still some watchful creatures whose essence lies unbound by words. There is still a wilderness.

With the dramatic canvas, I found you could still operate with the documentarist's observational eye.

Tuppy wiped a fair portion of Hampshire out of his eye, and peered round him in a dazed kind of way...

Poets, as a class, are business men. Shakespeare describes the poet's eye as rolling in a fine frenzy from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, and giving to airy nothing a local habitation and a name, but in practice you will find that one corner of that eye is generally glued on the royalty returns.

She has an eye like a man-eating fish

He was a long, thin old gentleman in his middle seventies with a faraway unseeing look in his eye, not unlike that which a dead halibut on a fishmonger's slab gives the pedestrian as he passes.

Shakespeare describes the poet's eye as rolling in a fine frenzy from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, and giving to airy nothing a local habitation and a name, but in practice you will find that one corner of that eye is generally glued on the royalty returns.

The street heaves and winds, burns and bumps, but behind the glass the locksmith, the old curator of timepieces, stands motionless with a single protruding eye, one amazing eye which peers into the mystery, the secret hearts of clocks, and looks deeply in until the elusive butterfly of time in its measure is trapped in his forehead and the wings of the watch beat. -from To Don Asterio Alarcón, Clocksmith of Valparaíso

The giant Grof was hit in one eye by a stone, and that eye turned inward so that it looked into his mind and he died of what he saw there.

Al gigante Grof le lanzaron una piedra al ojo, ese ojo se volvió hacia el interior en su mente, y el gigante murió por lo que vio en ella

He stayed up with the eye all night, staring into its shiny blueness, seeing himself within it, until the sun, rising above the tree line the next morning, seemed to him to be the shining eye of some forgotten god. T

Why must the gate be narrow? Because you cannot pass beyond it burdened. To come in among these trees you must leave behind the six days' world, all of it, all of its plans and hopes. You must come without weapon or tool, alone, expecting nothing, remembering nothing, into the ease of sight, the brotherhood of eye and leaf.

The grandest mountain prospect that the eye can range over is appointed to annihilation. The smallest human interest that the pure heart can feel is appointed to immortality.

Every Night & every Morn Some to Misery are Born Every Morn and every Night Some are Born to sweet delight Some are Born to sweet delight Some are Born to Endless Night We are led to Believe a Lie When we see not Thro the Eye Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light God Appears & God is Light To those poor Souls who dwell in Night But does a Human Form Display To those who Dwell in Realms of day

The just Witness is the Beloved's Eye. (p. 292)

Language is to the mind more than light is to the eye.

Some things need no study, no learning, no repetition in pursuit of memory. They burn themselves into the eye and can be examined ever after in minute detail. Moreover it is their nature - as we cannot even think, without leaving a mark somewhere on the cosmos - to bring with them their own inescapable interpretation.

I do not believe the presence of moisture in the air is sufficient reason to overturn society's usual sensible taboo against wielding spiked clubs at eye level.

A Riddle There is one that has a head without an eye, And there's one that has an eye without a head. You may find the answer if you try; And when all is said, Half the answer hangs upon a thread.

He picked on his rags and his bones as love Picks upon hearts, he with an eye to profit And love with an eye to pain.

To the naked eye Boudicca is a haze of noxious green that lurks among fronds of seaweed looking exactly like the aftermath of a chemical spill.

Have you forgotten about our fox? The one who now had an eye for beauty, and an inclination to set it apart from other things . . .

Oh my eye Betty Martin! Aren't I glad it isn't me that's going to school! It looks just like a prison.

I cannot reach it, and my striving eyeDazzles at it, as at eternity.