Evil is evil, and no good comes of calling it by any other name.
Facts you can bend. Memories are much stronger things.
Art is in the eye of the beholder, and everyone will have their own interpretation.
I don't always have thoughts, but when I do, they're deep.
Comedy historians take note: this Gottfried character doesn't have the best eye for detail - and, for a Jew, he doesn't have the best eye for retail, either.
When you close your eyes to tragedy, you close your eyes to greatness.
Blinding ignorance does mislead us. O! Wretched mortals, open your eyes!
You fit into me like a hook into an eye a fish hook an open eye
Eyes can't speak ...but some people can understand what eyes want to speak!!!
My own eyes are no more than scouts on a preliminary search, for the camera's eye may entirely change my idea.
Eye contact is way more intimate than words will ever be.
The most important thing in the face is the eyes, and if you can make the eyes talk, you're halfway there.
The majority of photographers focus on the obvious. They believe and accept what their eyes tell them, and yet eyes know nothing.
Camera's are everywhere, the walls have eyes the sidewalks have eyes. Nothing completely happens without someone knowing about it.
Keep your ears open, your eyes open, grab everything you can, react, and learn!
One of the reasons I don't see eye to eye with Women's Lib is that women have it all on a plate if only they knew it. They don't have to be pretty either.
Does anyone ask a painter -- even the painter himself -- why he paints? Now me, I painted... used to... whatever I saw that was beautiful. It had to be beautiful to me, through and through, before I would paint it. And I used to be a pretty simple fe...
Let us call the world to come together – every child, every woman and every man. Let us draw a bigger picture, one that enters every home, every heart and brings together every voice. Let us listen to the helpless cries of the abused and neglected ...
They stared at each other. Every ocean, every river, every minute they had walked together was in their gaze. He said nothing and she said nothing. She kneeled by him, her hands on him, on his chest, on his heart, on his lungs that took air in but co...
I stepped to the tank's edge, leaned in, and concentrated on keeping my eyes open. Which fish would be the shooter? The fish were all facing me, but one in particular seemed to be staring directly at my left eye, like a hunter targeting his prey. Wha...
The eye that sees all things else, sees not itself.
