The beauty and mystery of this world only emerges through affection, attention, interest and compassion . . . open your eyes wide and actually see this world by attending to its colors, details and irony.
He lay back, put his arm over his eyes, and tried to hold onto the anger, because the anger made him feel brave. A brave man could think. A coward couldn't.
I could never pretend something I didn't feel. I could never make love if I didn't love, and if I loved I could no more hide the fact than change the color of my eyes.
He turned then and those blue eyes met hers from across the sea of people. Her stomach bottomed out. Damn it. She couldn't be attracted to the arrogant ass. Somehow repeating herself wasn't helping.
Because, good God, Lily Wellstone had the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and the spirit of the devil glinting from her eyes. She was a woman worth losing his soul for.
Just rest and soon enough, you'll be home." I assured her as she slowly closed her eyes and the smile on her face faded.
His eyes danced like a teenager. "Eat anyone alive today?" her father joked. Ruby returned his wicked grin and sauntered into the living room. "Not today, but tomorrow's another day.
The guys can't take their eyes off Colleen... one of them... probably sees her just like I do, she's the gatekeeper to another world.
The eye’s perception of texture is pale compared to the lips’, and I didn’t know what velvety was until I knew it with my lips. Oh, kissing. Oh, violin boy.
Do you love me Hero?" His pale green eyes were full of torment. "Do you love me like I love you?
I’d love to be tried out,’ I said, with a suggestive smile. ‘One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.’ I saw a little flicker of fun in his eyes.
I saw something I could never forget. I saw lifetimes of acknowledgement, fear, wisdom, questioning, and understanding in a child's eye. It was the worst thing I would ever witness.
He swatted at her with his book. "Shut up and read, will you?" He lay back down and closed his eyes. Emma glanced over to check that he was smiling, and smiled too.
I lifted my eyes, and, for the first time, admitted the truth. "I gave up," I whispered. "Don't give up," she whispered back.
Hetty shivered. Goodness, he had no business looking at her like that. Physician my eye! Physicians definitely didn't look like him; they were short, round and adorned with wigs and spectacles.
It is wrong to assume that art needs the spectator in order to be. The film runs on without any eyes. The spectator cannot exist without it. It insures his existence.
We need only to close our eyes and we are back on the Third Line, walking up the lane, through the yard and entering the bright, warm kitchen. We are home again.
His eyes widened just a bit, his lips flexed. I realized he was trying not to laugh. I hate it when people find my threats amusing.
We are content with the 'given' in sensation's quest. We have been metamorphosised from a mad body dancing on hillsides to a pair of eyes staring in the dark.
In the eyes, heart, and mind of the one you love and who you want to love you, you will become, in essence, a new person.
We must imagine our lives well. We must engage our conscience. Conscience is the voice of God in the nature and heart of man.
