He could not be mistaken. There were no other eyes like those in the world. There was only one creature in the world who could concentrate for him all the brightness and meaning of life. It was she. It was Kitty.
Dave walked closer to me, his dark eyes combing my every move. "Do you always hold your guitar like that?" I dropped my pick. "Do you always shop at Hot Topic?
Because, as any English-speaking tourist will tell you, if you speak slow enough, loud enough, and maintain good eye contact, eventually they’ll understand.
In the long second before everyone absorbs what just happened, I see the angel rolling his eyes heavenward, like a teenager in the presence of overwhelming lameness. Some people just have no sense of gratitude.
My story is of such marvel that if it were written with a needle on the corner of an eye, it would yet serve as a lesson to those who seek wisdom.
He watched you like a man starved for the only thing that could fulfill his hunger." My eyes popped out and my body flushed about a thousand shades of red. "Oh, wow...
Everyone is moving at the same speed toward the future. But your children are moving at that same speed with their eyes closed. So you're the ones who've got to steer.
I couldn’t peel my eyes off her face or her body. Even if she had asked me not to follow her, I would have followed anyway. I was in a Norah state of mind.
…the longer I think about it the more it seems to me that we who are still alive are unreal in the eyes of the dead, that only occasionally, in certain lights and atmospheric conditions, do we appear in their field of vision.
He turned to face me and his eyes widened. "Are you ?" He sounded a little panicked, like the sight of a crying girl was scarier than anything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours.
Q. Why don't the British panic? A. They do, but very quietly. It is impossible for the naked eye to tell their panic from their ecstasy.
I know my mouth is agape and my eyes are wide, but I'm relieved that hope isn't a tangible thing, because everyone around me would see mine crumbling.
And then he leaned forward and my stomach collapsed, taking in that last breath. I closed my eyes and watched in awe as all the butterflies flew up into the sky, free, mingling with the exploding lights.
Lexie, I practically sold my soul to get where I am today. I’m a selfish bastard … and you …” His eyes washed over my face. “You’ve already lost everything to keep your soul intact.
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.
It is something to have gazed on the constellated white, felt it running from the eyes and the pores: the salt of love. It is something to have whispered wild thank-yous in the only ways we know how.
The people around you are mirrors, I think. You see yourself reflected in their eyes. If the mirror is true, and smooth, you see your true self. That’s how you learn who you are.
A check girl in peach-bloom Chinese pajamas came over to take my hat and disapprove of my clothes. She had eyes like strange sins.
They smile that smile, they bat those eyes. They steal with hello, they kill you with goodbye. They're the perfect drug. As you're walking away, you hear that sweet voice, 'Stay.
He had sky eyes and sun hair and all the women loved him. And all I had was an empty coffee cup, full of sleepy hope.
At best, love is simply the slipping of a hand in another's, of knowing you are where you belong at last, and of exchanging through the eyes that all-consuming regard which ignores everybody else on earth.
