Eyes Quotes (page 19)
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Not marble nor the gilded monuments. Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme, But you shall shine more bright in these contents. Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn. And broils roots out the work of masonry, Nor mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn. The living record of your memory.'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity. Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room. Even in the eyes of all posterity. That wear...
William Shakespeare
Is it not curious, that so vast a being as the whale should see the world through so small an eye, and hear the thunder through an ear which is smaller than a hare's? But if his eyes were broad as the lens of Herschel's great telescope; and his ears capacious as the porches of cathedrals; would that make him any longer of sight, or sharper of hearing? Not at all.—Why then do you try to "enlarge" your mind? Subtilize it
Herman Melville
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines, And too often is his gold complexion dimm'd: And every fair from fair sometimes declines, By chance or natures changing course untrimm'd; By thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in...
William Shakespeare
How can you see something that isn't there?" yawned the Humbug, who wasn't fully awake yet. "Sometimes, it's much simpler than seeing things that are,"he said. "For instance, if something is there, you can only see it with your eyes open, but if it isn't there, you can see it just as well with your eyes closed. That's why imaginary things are often easier to see than real ones."Then where is Reality?" barked Tock. "Right here,"cried Alec, waving his arms.
Norton Juster
She began to whisper something in my ear. It’s the strangest thing about poetry—you can tell it’s poetry, even if you don’t speak the language. You can hear Homer’s Greek without understanding a word, and you still know it’s poetry. I’ve heard Polish poetry, and Inuit poetry, and I knew what it was without knowing. Her whisper was like that. I didn’t know the language, but her words washed through me, perfect, and in my mind’s eye I saw towers of glass and diamond; and people with eyes of the...
Neil Gaiman
For I have known them all already, known them all -Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;I know the voices dying with a dying fallBeneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? And I have known the eyes already, known them all -The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,Then how should I beginTo spit out all the butt-ends of my...
T. S. Eliot
When they came to harvest my corpse(open your mouth, close your eyes)cut my body from the rope, surprise, surprise: I was still alive. Tough luck, folks, I know the law: you can't execute me twicefor the same thing. How nice. I fell to the clover, breathed it in, and bared my teeth at themin a filthy grin. You can imagine how that went over. Now I only need to lookout at them through my sky-blue eyes. They see their own ill willstaring then in the foreheadand turn tail. Before, I was not a...
Margaret Atwood
Hermione slid out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker towards Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half-raised his arms. Hermione launched herself forwards and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.'Ouch? ow? gerroff! What the? ? Hermione? OW!'
J. K. Rowling
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name.
But now is black beauty’s successive heir,
And beauty slandered with a bastard shame.
For since each hand hath put on nature’s pow'r,
Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bow'r,
But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
Sland'ring...
William Shakespeare
A man does not need to be a wizard to know truth from falsehood, not if he has eyes. You need only learn to read a face. Look at the eyes. The mouth. The muscles here, at the corner of the jaw, and here, where the neck joins the shoulders. Some liars blink. Some stare. Some look away. Some lick their lips. Many cover their mouths just before they tell a lie, as if to hide their deceit. Other signs may be more subtle, but they are always there. A false smile and a true may look alike. But they...
George R. R. Martin
There are four simple ways for the observant to tell Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar apart: first, Mr. Vandemar is two and a half heads taller than Mr. Croup; second, Mr. Croup has eyes of a faded china blue, while Mr. Vandemar's eyes are brown; third, while Mr. Vandemar fashioned the rings he wears on his right hand out of the skulls of four ravens, Mr. Croup has no obvious jewelry; fourth, Mr. Croup likes words, while Mr. Vandemar is always hungry. Also, they look nothing at all alike.
Neil Gaiman