I see specks of the Universe in your eyes. A body of stardust that gives me a high. And when we make love the stars shine brighter than usual. When we lie there holding each other, I see love making us.
Bright morning comes; the bloody-fingered dawn with zealous light sets seas of air ablaze and bends to earth another false beginning. My eyes open like cornflowers, stick, crusted with their own stale dew, then take that light.
BEL-IMPERIA: Oh let me go; for in my troubled eyes Now may'st thou read that life in passion dies. HORATIO: Oh stay a while, and I will die with thee; So shalt thou yield, and yet have conquered me.
Tears had poured from her eyes without any change in her facial expression. It’s pure pain and pure surrender when your soul cries without any fight from your body and that’s how I knew she was deeply affected.
All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day to find it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.
Fuck, babe,” Chocolate Eyes said, stepping forward. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet off the tiled floor. “You look like crap...worse, actually.” He wiped her tears with the calloused pad of his thumb. “You want to get out of thi...
I laughed as we turned in a tight circle... "Tonight you're all mine." Jake smiled but looked me dead in the eye. "No. From now on." My heart skipped. "What?" "Yours," he said simply, "from now on.
A man who is obviously too handsome for his own good smiles at me. His eyes are mischievous, as if he's harboring wicked thoughts and is tempted to subject me to them. I hold his dark gaze for a moment too long, and then pin my focus back on the
Her [Odette's] eyes were beautiful, but so large they seemed to droop beneath their own weight, strained the rest of her face and always made her appear unwell or in a bad mood.
God knows I often retire to my bed wishing (at times even hoping) that I might never wake up; and in the morning I open my eyes, see the sun once again, and am miserable.
Help me,” I sobbed. “I beg you, help me.” My eyes burned, but no tears came. I had lost the basic human ability to weep. Human…I am no longer human. “Destroy me. Take pity and send me on my way.
Please, always look at me this way. Stare into my eyes and see me for who I am and know that there is nothing more than this. When the world calls things into question, you need not question me because I will always be here for you.
When problems beat upon you like a raging storm, search for the eye. You might not be able to avoid misfortunes, but you can find the calmest spot within them.
I am no more annoyed when I think of the expression, than I should be annoyed by a man's opinion of a picture of mine, who had no eye for pictures; or of a piece of music of mine, who had no ear for music.
If I didn't work as hard as I could, then I think it would be a bit like saying, 'God, thanks for giving me this ability, but I don't really care about it. I'm going to do something else, and I'm not going to work quite as hard.
You and I were created by God to be so much more than normal…Following the crowd is not a winning approach to life. In the end it’s a loser’s game, because we never become who God created us to be by trying to be like everybody else.
This girl, this impossibly sweet girl, was his present and his future, despite his past. Fate had to be smiling at him. He couldn't imagine life without this dark haired beauty. Those beautiful hazel eyes reached into his heart and took hold.
To four years until freedom," she said lifting her glass. He raised his in salute. "To you, Celaena." Their eyes met, and Chaol didn't hide his smile as she grinned at him. Perhaps four years with her might not be enough.
Okay", I breathed. "Then what will it take?" I was completely out of my element. Begging a girl to go on a date with me. This was fucked up." "Miss it." I stared into her cold, blue eyes and knew I'd just met the kind of girl books are written about.
I glance into the faces of all these people out for a Sunday stroll, but I'm not seeing eyes and noses and mouths. I'm seeing stories. Every person has a story. All the hopes and dreams. And fears. And secrets. In every face.
For the briefest of moments his eyes sparkled before dimming again. “However much I would love to get into a discussion about chastity belts, now is not the time. The people we were fighting were not human in the strictest sense of the word.
