Top These Eyes Quotes

Browse top 232 famous quotes and sayings about These Eyes by most favorite authors.

Favorite These Eyes Quotes

1. "I'm probably gonna have to buy like a massive entertainment center for all of these movies," Jack said, staring up at his DVD's. It overwhelmed him for a minute, so he sighed, and finally turned back to look at me. I have no idea what he was planning to say, but his jaw fell open and his eyes widened. "Holy Hell."
Author: Amanda Hocking
2. "What's the good of these great fragile fits of enthusiasm, these jaded jumps of joys? We know nothing anymore, but the dead stars; we gaze at their faces; and we gasp with pleasure. Our mouths are dry as the lost beaches, and our eyes turn aimlessly and without hope. Now all that remain are these cafés where we meet to drink these cool drinks, these diluted spirits, and the tables are stickier than the pavements where our shadows of the day before have fallen."
Author: André Breton
3. "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."
Author: Andrew Clements
4. "It gives me no rest, my wish to know the fate of all these scenes that entered my eyes and have remained in my thoughts. What happens to them when I am no longer there?"
Author: Andrzej Stasiuk
5. "(James Joyce, in conversation with Carl Jung:)"Literary artists know more about the human mind than you fellers have a hope in hell of knowing. Ha. My craft is ebbing. I am yung and easily freudened. One of these days I'll show the lot of you what the unconscious mind is really like. I don't need any of you. In a sense I am Freud."Jung looked gloomily guilty at the name. "Yes?""What's Freud in English?""Joy.""Joy and Joyce. There's little enough difference. Except that I add C and E for Creative Endeavour. I spit in all your eyes."
Author: Anthony Burgess
6. "Ivanov: I am a bad, pathetic and worthless individual. One needs to be pathetic, too, worn out and drained by drink, like Pasha, to be still fond of me and to respect me. My God, how I despise myself! I so deeply loathe my voice, my walk, my hands, these clothes, my thoughts. Well, isn't that funny, isn't that shocking? Less than a year ago I was healthy and strong, I was cheerful, tireless, passionate, I worked with these very hands, I could speak to move even Philistines to tears, I could cry when I saw grief, I became indignant when I encountered evil. I knew inspiration, I knew the charm and poetry of quiet nights when from dusk to dawn you sit at your desk or indulge you mind with dreams. I believed, I looked into the future as into the eyes of my own mother... And now, my God, I am exhausted, I do not believe, I spend my days and nights in idleness."
Author: Anton Chekhov
7. "We fight monsters and unholy creatures for a living here. Grotesque, evil, violent, dangerous; they're certainly all these things. And yet, we somehow manage to go to sleep each night and wake up each morning. The terror wears off. What was horrific becomes mundane. We lose ourselves to a numbed normalcy after a while, a self-inflicted detachment. You forget how you got here, what it was like before. And then someone comes along, someone new, someone who sees it all with fresh eyes, and it snaps you out of your daily coma, reminding you of what you've forgotten. Of what you've become."
Author: Bill Blais
8. "I think He made one law of that kind in order that there might be obedience. In all these other matters what you call obeying Him is but doing what seems good in your own eyes also. Is love content with that?"
Author: C.S. Lewis
9. "In all this time, he [London] has not woken. He needs someone, Tanda. Perhaps you are that someone." She gazed at me with uncertainty and regret, but there was love for London as well, even after all these years. She nodded, taking the chair at his bedside while I stole into the hall. It was for her that he finally opened his eyes."
Author: Cayla Kluver
10. "In The Republic, Plato imagines human beings chained for the duration of their lives in an underground cave, knowing nothing but darkness. Their gaze is confined to the cave wall, upon which shadows of the world are thrown. They believe these flickering shadows are reality. If, Plato writes, one of these prisoners is freed and brought into the sunlight, he sill suffer great pain. Blinded by the glare, he is unable to seeing anything and longs for the familiar darkness. But eventually his eyes adjust to the light. The illusion of the tiny shadows is obliterated. He confronts the immensity, chaos, and confusion of reality. The world is no longer drawn in simple silhouettes. But he is despised when he returns to the cave. He is unable to see in the dark as he used to. Those who never left the cave ridicule him and swear never to go into the light lest they be blinded as well."
Author: Chris Hedges
11. "2NOTES"You broke your other appointment, didn't you?""I did not! I told you on the phone—these people canceled at the last minute—""Oh, Geo dear, come off it! You know, I sometimes think, about you, whenever you do something really sweet, you're ashamed of it afterwords! You knew jolly well how badly I needed you tonight, so you broke that appointment. I could tell you were fibbing, the minute you opened your mouth! You and I can't pull the wool over each other's eyes. I found that out, long ago. Haven't you—after all these years?""I certainly should have," he agrees, smiling and thinking what an absurd and universally accepted bit of nonsense it is that your best friends must necessarily be the ones who best understand you."
Author: Christopher Isherwood
12. "I Am PrimateI was once taught, that I am a soul in a body.I once believed I was separate from the earth.A stranger in a strange land,a sinner in need of a Savior.But, isn't this my home? This beautiful world?Isn't this my form?These hands, these eyes, this touch?Am I to believe I have violated a rule,just by being born?Who claims this right to judge,and on what authority do you stand?The truth screams out from my cells.I am not the imagination of a God,I am a voice in the earth,I am that which you deny!The earth is my home and the stars my destiny.I will touch the planets throughthe hands of my children. . . not the will of your ghost!I am a voice in the evolutionary continuumand I claim the right to be alive,without your story.For I Am Human, I Am Proud,and I AM . . . PRIMATE!"
Author: Christopher Loren
13. "My father is deceast, come Gaveston,'And share the kingdom with thy deerest friend.'Ah words that make me surfet with delight:What greater blisse can hap to Gaveston,Then live and be the favorit of a king?Sweete prince I come, these these thy amorous lines,Might have enforst me to have swum from France,And like Leander gaspt upon the sande,So thou wouldst smile and take me in thy armes.The sight of London to my exiled eyes,Is as Elizium to a new come soule.Not that I love the citie or the men,But that it harbors him I hold so deare,The king, upon whose bosome let me die,And with the world be still at enmitie:What neede the artick people love star-light,To whom the sunne shines both by day and night.Farewell base stooping to the lordly peeres,My knee shall bowe to none but to the king.As for the multitude that are but sparkes,Rakt up in embers of their povertie,Tanti: Ile fawne first on the winde,That glaunceth at my lips and flieth away: ...."
Author: Christopher Marlowe
14. "These books can't possibly compete with centuries of established history, especially when that history is endorsed by the ultimate bestseller of all time." Faukman's eyes went wide. "Don't tell me Harry Potter is actually about the Holy Grail.""I was referring to the Bible."Faukman cringed. "I knew that."
Author: Dan Brown
15. "I will tell these stories...because to do anything else would be something less than human. I speak to these people, and I speak to you because I cannot help it. It gives me strength, almost unbelievable strength, to know that you are there. I covet your eyes, your ears, the collapsible space between us. How blessed are we to have each other? I am alive and you are alive so we must fill the air with our words. I will fill today, tomorrow, every day until I am taken back to God. I will tell stories to people who will listen and to people who don't want to listen, to people who seek me out and to those who run. All the while I will know that you are there. How can I pretend that you do not exist? It would be almost as impossible as you pretending that I do not exist."
Author: Dave Eggers
16. "Livia decided she loved watching things go into him. Food, water, love—all these things she could give him."You look tired. Would you like to nap?" he asked. Blake was definitely back. There was less rasp and more smoke in his silky voice."No, Blake. I never want to sleep again. Just this." Livia touched his face. "Only this."The pride in his eyes almost changed their color. He turned his face to her palm, kissed it, and said, "Come, my love, put your head on my shoulder. Your burdens have been heavy."In that moment, Livia realized her eyelids were drooping, and the crook of Blake's arm seemed perfect for her head. His lips stayed on her forehead as he hummed a serene song. Livia fell into a deep, dreamless slumber."
Author: Debra Anastasia
17. "Livia looked puzzled and whispered, "I have no idea why these are special."Blake dared to touch her face. "They're the exact color of your eyes."
Author: Debra Anastasia
18. "I have lived at Cold MountainThese thirty long years.Yesterday I called on friends and family:More than half had gone to the Yellow Springs.Slowly consumed, like fire down a candle;Forever flowing, like a passing river.Now, morning, I face my lone shadow:Suddenly my eyes are bleared with tears."
Author: Gary Snyder
19. "My slumbers--if I slumber--are not sleep,But a continuance of enduring thought,Which then I can resist not: in my heartThere is a vigil, and these eyes but closeTo look within; and yet I live, and bearThe aspect and the form of breathing men."
Author: George Gordon Byron
20. "I hurried away to the white hall of Phantasy heedless of the innumerable forms of beauty that crowded my way: these might cross my eyes, but the unseen filled my brain."
Author: George MacDonald
21. "There, at the top of the table, alone amongst all these women, stooped over his ample plateful, with his napkin tied around his neck like a child, an old man sat eating, drips of gravy drbibbling gravy from him lips. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a little pigtail tied up with a black ribbon. This was the Marquis' father-in-law... he had led a... Read more tumultuous life of debauchery and duelling, of wagers made and women abducted, had squandered his fortune and terrified his whole family... Emma's eyes kept coming back to this old man with the sagging lips, as though to something wonderfully majestic. He had lived at court and slept in the bed of a queen!"
Author: Gustave Flaubert
22. "Often, when forced from his hammock by exhausting and intolerably vivid dreams of the night, which, resuming his own intense thoughts through the day, carried them on amid a clashing of phrensies, and whirled them round and round in his blazing brain, till the very throbbing of his lifespot became insufferable anguish; and when, as was sometimes the case, these spritual throes in him heaved his being up from its base, and a chasm seemed opening in him, from which forked flames and lightnings shot up, and accursed fiends beconed him to leap down among them; when this hell in himself yawned beneath him, a wild cry would be heard through the ship; and with glaring eyes Ahab would burst from his state room, as though escaping from a bed that was on fire."
Author: Herman Melville
23. "I beg for a moment of peace in this flicker,a moment of stopping, one moment of stillness. I beg not to feel these butterflies, not to see theircolor, not to hear their rustle, I beg not to feel. I beg not to not want them, nor to want – let thembe, as they are, let me be, as I am. That I would not love them, for a moment I would not lovethem, for a moment they would blur for me, disappear and Iwould stay all alone. I beg for a single moment, to stay allalone – surrounded by butterflies, free without butterflies. Oh, I train my eyesight, so I wouldn't see. Iwake my ears, so I wouldn't hear. And Ibeg for a name, that wouldn't be called in a name. Say that Ihave silenced. Say that you have silenced. Say that it's silent."
Author: Imants Ziedonis
24. "You don't mean to say that Hogan has turned into a woman? Why, yes, that's him all right, you can recognize him by the fact that he has two legs, two arms, and an indecipherable face. Man, woman, what difference does it make? Are they not all exactly the same, these little black insects with their rhythmic movements, the same eyes, the same thoughts?"
Author: J.M.G. Le Clézio
25. "Damn girl. Is your daddy a thief?""What?" I'd never actually met my dad. Maybe he was. All I knew was that he'd been mortal. Hopefully, he'd been nothing like these two ass-hats. Ren flexed his nonexistent muscles, smiling."Well, then who stole those diamonds and put them in your eyes?""Wow."
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout
26. "These days too many of us seem inclined to cover our ears, close our eyes, and blindly follow the most narrow, conservative tenets of religion; or else seek comfort in the ancient traditions of New Age ritual."
Author: Joan D. Vinge
27. "Oh, such promises we make in the heat of our passion, when the breath catches in the throat and the belly trembles. Lured by the warmth of another - the scent of her, the strength of him - our tongues betray us and the words come tumbling from our mouths. The act becomes indistinguishable from the intent, and the truth is confused with lies, even to ourselves. Do we say these things because we truly believe them, or do we believe that, by saying them aloud, they may become true? And, when tested, how many of us can say that we fulfilled our vows, that we did not turn away, that we did not renege on the promises we made? When our partners grow old and slow, when the light in their eyes dims and our ardor cools, how many of us are not tempted to turn away and seek our pleasures elsewhere? Not I. I was faithful always. I kept my vows to her, and she her vows to me, in her way."
Author: John Connolly
28. "Memory is a landscape watched from the window of a moving train. (...) These things happen right before our very eyes, we know them to be real, but they're so far away we can't touch them. Some are so far, so very far away, and the train moving so fast, that we can't be sure any longer that they really did happen. Maybe we merely dreamed them?"
Author: José Eduardo Agualusa
29. "And yet, even as I made these plans, there was a small dismayed corner of my heart. Like those stupid cartoons when you're a kid: little red devil on one shoulder and the little angel in his nightie on the other. My good angel was hiding his eyes."
Author: Josh Lanyon
30. "What should I tell people if they ask about you? Before I could plead some kind of ignorance, but as your wife…"She shouldn't have to ask these things. It shouldn't be a burden for her to bear. "Tell them I'd rather slit my own throat than associate with them."Rose looked horrified at the thought-so much so that Grey's heart pinched. She really was adorable. "Or, you could tell them that you have thoroughly exhausted me in bed and I am unable to draw the strength needed to rouse myself."That brought a sparkle back into her eyes. "I rather fancy that. It would certainly set tongues wagging, wouldn't it?"
Author: Kathryn Smith
31. "The color palette is confined to that of a Gustave Dore' engraving, greys and blacks, and subtle shadings of these rendered in harrowing crosshatches and highlighted with sudden glaring areas of nothingness, like splotches of vitiligo sent to haunt the dead with memories of what real light did to the eyes."
Author: Kevin Hearne
32. "I'd hate to read all these books...that much reading could put your eyes out."
Author: Larry McMurtry
33. "You're right," he said, jerking open the portal. "There is one place she's sure to go.""Yes.""And you.You should take your own advice and leave this place," Daniel said grimly. "You're rotting in here.""At least this body's pain distracts me from the pain in my soul," his past self said. "No.I wish you luck, but I won't leave these walls now.Not until she's settled in her next incarnation."Daniel's wings bristled at his neck. He tried to sort out time and lives and memories in his head, but he kept circling around the same irksome thought. "She-she should be settled now. In conception. Can't you feel it?""Oh," his imprisoned past self said softly. He closed his eyes. "I don't know that I can feel anything anymore." The prisoner sighed heavily. "Life's a nightmare.""No,it's not. Not anymore. I'll find her.I'll redeem us both," Daniel shouted, desperate to get out of there, desperately taking another leap of faith through time."
Author: Lauren Kate
34. "I was ten when the Taliban came to our valley. Moniba and I had been reading the Twilight books and longed to be vampires. It seemed to us that the Taliban arrived in the night just like vampires...These were strange-looking men with long straggly hair and beards and camouflage vests over their shalwar kamiz, which they wore with the trousers well above the ankle. They had jogging shoes or cheap plastic sandals on their feet, and sometimes stockings over their heads with holes for their eyes, and they blew their noses dirtily into the ends of their turbans..."
Author: Malala Yousafzai
35. "For it was the one that I would have chosen above all others, convinced as I was, with a botanist's satisfaction, that it was not possible to find gathered together rarer specimens than these young flowers that at this moment before my eyes were breaking the line of the sea with their slender heads, like a bower of Pennsylvania roses adorned a Cliffside garden, between whose blooms is contained the whole tract of ocean crossed by some steamer, so slow in gliding along the blue, horizontal line that stretches from one stem to the next that an idle butterfly, dawdling in the cup of a flower which the ship's hull has long since passed, can wait, before flying off in time to arrive before it, until nothing by the tiniest chink of blue still separates the prow from the first petal of the flower towards which it is steering."
Author: Marcel Proust
36. "We offered her flowers and signalled to her with our penises, but she did not respond with joy.''The men with the extra skins didn't look happy. They looked angry.''We went towards them to greet them, but they ran away.'Snowman can imagine. The sight of these preternaturally calm, well-muscled men advancing en masse, singing their unusual music, green eyes glowing, blue penises waving in unison, both hands outstretched like extras in a zombie film, would have to have been alarming."
Author: Margaret Atwood
37. "These days, I strive to be a bitch, because not being one sucks. Not being a bitch means not having your voice heard. Not being a bitch means you agree with all the bullshit. Not being a bitch means you don't appreciate all the other bitches who have come before you. Not being a bitch means since Eve ate that apple, we will forever have to pay for her bitchiness with complacence, obedience, acceptance, closed eyes, and opened legs."
Author: Margaret Cho
38. "I believe you!' the artiste exclaimed finally and extinguishes his gaze. 'I do! These eyes are not lying! How many times have I told you that your basic error consists in underestimating the significance of the human eye. Understand that the tongue can conceal the truth, but the eyes - never! A sudden question is put to you, you don't even flinch, in one second you get hold of yourself and know what you must say to conceal the truth, and you speak quite convincingly, and not a wrinkle on your face moves, but - alas - the truth which the question stirs up from the bottom of your soul leaps momentarily into your eyes, and it's all over! They see it, and you're caught!"
Author: Mikhail Bulgakov
39. "What if . . . what if . . ."What if it's a harvest camp after all?" says Emby. Connor doesn't tell him to shut up this time, because he's thinking the same thing.It's Diego who answers him. "If it is, then I want my fin gers to go to a sculptor. So he can use them to craft something that will last forever."They all think about that. Hayden is the next to speak."If I'm unwound," says Hayden, "I want my eyes to go to a photographer — one who shoots supermodels. That's what I want these eyes to see.""My lips'll go to a rock star," says Connor."These legs are definitely going to the Olympics.""My ears to an orchestra conductor.""My stomach to a food critic.""My biceps to a body builder.""I wouldn't wish my sinuses on anybody."And they're all laughing as the plane touches down."
Author: Neal Shusterman
40. "There are some dogs which, when you meet them, remind you that, despite thousands of years of man-made evolution, every dog is still only two meals away from being a wolf. These dogs advance deliberately, purposefully, the wilderness made flesh, their teeth yellow, their breath a-stink, while in the distance their owners witter, "He's an old soppy really, just poke him if he's a nuisance," and in the green of their eyes the red campfires of the Pleistocene gleam and flicker."
Author: Neil Gaiman
41. "I made these sonnets out of wood; I gave them the sound of that opaque pure substance, and that is how they should reach your ears. Walking in forests or on beaches, along hidden lakes, in latitudes sprinkled with ashes, you and I have picked up pieces of pure bark, pieces of wood subject to the comings and goings of water and the weather. Out of such softened relics, then, with hatchet and machete and pocketknife, I built up these lumber piles of love, and with fourteen boards each I built little houses, so that your eyes, which I adore and sing to, might live in them. Now that I have declared the foundations of my love, I surrender this century to you: wooden sonnets that rise only because you gave them life."
Author: Pablo Neruda
42. "Autumn leaves under frozen soles,Hungry hands turning soft and old,My hero cried as we stood out their in the cold,Like these autumn leaves I don't have nothing to holdAutumn leaves how faded now,that smile that i've lost, well i've found some how,Because you still live on in my fathers eyes,These autumn leaves, oh these autumn leaves, oh these autumn leaves are yours tonight."
Author: Paolo Nutini
43. "His tired gaze - from passing endless bars -has turned into a vacant stare which nothing holds.to him there seem to be a thousand bars,and out beyond these bars exists no world.his supple gait, the smoothness of strong stridesthat gently turn in ever smaller circlesperform a dance of strength, centered deep withina will, stunned, but untamed, indomitable.but sometimes the curtains of his eyelids part,the pupils of his eyes dilate as imagesof past encounters enter while through his limbsa tension strains in silenceonly to cease to be, to die within his heart.[the panther]"
Author: Rainer Maria Rilke
44. "Why do I not rather seek some real good - one which I could feel, not one which I could display? These things that draw the eyes of men, before which they halt, which they show to one another in wonder, outwardly glitter, but are worthless within."
Author: Seneca
45. "I'm trying to paint an underwater ocean scene. It's just not working. My queen angelfish is supposed to have these bright yellow eyes and electric-blue stripes along the edge of her fin. Instead, it looks like I'm trying to paint a fried egg with some blue bacon. Maybe I can pass it off as postmodern."
Author: Susane Colasanti
46. "Terror"There is something About youThat seems so youngSo trustingThis is the part of you that I most love And the part of you that I am most frightened to hurt Do you think the German poetsWhen speaking of the terror of loveMeant the terror that comes From knowingWe can be harmed Or from knowingWe have the power to hurtOf these two terrorsThe second is the greaterHumanity's deeper fear Perhaps it is so Even with Americans Who arm their leaders Not for fear of being destroyed But because in disarming them for a momentAll the harm done would be exposed Leaving the people Limping home in shameLike OedipusWho was haunted by mirrorsThe terror that comesFrom knowing you have the power to hurtThis is the greater fearPerhaps this is why our dogsCan look into our eyes UnflinchinglyWith unconditional loveIt is not because they are too stupid to know that somedayWe may casually break their heartsBut because they are wise enough to know thatThey will never break ours"
Author: Tara Sophia Bahna James
47. "These are dark radiances. They have no suspicion that they are to be pitied. Certainly they are so. He who does not weep does not see. They are to be admired and pitied, as one would both pity and admire a being at once night and day, without eyes beneath his lashes but with a star on his brow."
Author: Victor Hugo
48. "A BIRTHDAY Something continues and I don't know what to call itthough the language is full of suggestionsin the way of languagebut they are all anonymousand it's almost your birthday music next to my bonesthese nights we hear the horses running in the rainit stops and the moon comes out and we are still herethe leaks in the roof go on dripping after the rain has passedsmell of ginger flowers slips through the dark housedown near the sea the slow heart of the beacon flashesthe long way to you is still tied to me but it brought me to youI keep wanting to give you what is already yoursit is the morning of the mornings togetherbreath of summer oh my found onethe sleep in the same current and each waking to youwhen I open my eyes you are what I wanted to see."
Author: W.S. Merwin
49. "What passing bells for these who die as cattle?Only the monstrous anger of the guns.Only the stuttering rifle's rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries now for them; no prayers, nor bells,Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,The shrill demented choirs of wailing shells,And bugles calling for them from sad shires.What candles may be held to speed them all?Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes,Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall,Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,And each, slow dusk a drawing down of blinds."
Author: Wilfred Owen
50. "When in the chronicle of wasted timeI see descriptions of the fairest wights,And beauty making beautiful old rhyme,In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,I see their antique pen would have expressedEven such a beauty as you master now.So all their praises are but propheciesOf this our time, all you prefiguring;And for they looked but with divining eyes,They had not skill enough your worth to sing: For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise."
Author: William Shakespeare

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He is right. You have to feel it" - she reached out and touched a hand to my chest- "in here."
Author: Anne Fortier

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