Eyes Quotes
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Color in painting lures the eyes as verses do in poetry.
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There's an exercise we do where someone is sat behind you and you're asked to close your eyes and fall backwards. That's acting.
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You can close your eyes to the things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.
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Keep your eyes on the prize and don't turn back.
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I'm very attracted to a girl's eyes. I think you can tell a lot by a girl's eyes.
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I saw clearly the mothers of the old neighborhood. They were nervous, they were acquiescent. They were silent, with tight lips and stooping shoulders, or they yelled terrible insults at the children who harassed them. Extremely thin, with hollow eyes and cheeks, or with broad behinds, swollen ankles, heavy chests, they lugged shopping bags and small children who clung to their skirts and wanted to be picked up. And, good God, they were ten, at most twenty years older than me.
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So she ignored Mrs. Arbuthnot's remark and raised forefinger, and said with marked coldness—at least, she tried to make it sound marked— that she supposed they would be going to breakfast, and that she had had hers; but it was her fate that however coldly she sent forth her words they came out sounding quite warm and agreeable. That was because she had a sympathetic and delightful voice, due entirely to some special formation of her throat and the roof of her mouth, and having nothing whatever to do with what she was feeling. Nobody in consequence ever believed they were being snubbed. It was most tiresome. And if she stared icily it did not look icy at all, because her eyes, lovely to begin with, had the added loveliness of very long, soft, dark eyelashes. No icy stare could come out of eyes like that; it got caught and lost in the soft eyelashes, and the persons stared at merely thought they were being regarded with a flattering and exquisite attentiveness. And if ever she was out of humour or definitely cross— and who would not be sometimes in such a world?—-she only looked so pathetic that people all rushed to comfort her, if possible by means of kissing. It was more than tiresome, it was maddening. Nature was determined that she should look and sound angelic. She could never be disagreeable or rude without being completely misunderstood.
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Subjective artists are one-eyed, but objective artists are blind.
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Those blue eyes that had stopped my heart the first time she looked at me found me in the crowd."
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My mirror image always had to be interpreted. And for that I sought my reflection in someone else's eyes.
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There's also an aspect which I tried to express yesterday by saying the same "something" that looks out through Curlys eyes is also the same exact thing which looks out of Moe's eyes, and that's harder for people to grasp. So the thing is, you have to find a way to ultimately embrace both sides or else you can't function. If you only embrace the side of pure oneness then you end up sort of spacing out and sitting under a blanket.
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If it's not good enough for your eyes, why is it good enough for your stomach?
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Keep death and exile daily before thine eyes, with all else that men deem terrible, but more especially Death. Then wilt thou never think a mean thought, nor covet anything beyond measure. (161).
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I realized why movie scores are mostly strings, because it really frees your eyes to look around.
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I’d like to have enough time and quiet To think about absolutely nothing, To not ever feel myself living, To only know myself in others’ eyes, reflected.
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And we both know. That people change. When truth’s not part of their lives. I’ve seen the love in their eyes. Don’t say goodbye.
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I paint is the way I see things with my eyes and in my heart
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I love looking at pieces of art through the eyes of a child.
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Since you walked out on me I'm getting lovelier by the hour. I glow like a corpse in the dark. No one sees how round and sharp my eyes have grown how my carcass looks like a glass urn, how I hold up things in the rags of my hands, the way I can stand through crippled by lust. No, there's just your cruelty circling my head like a bright rotting halo.
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With their women's bodies and children's eyes, my friends felt quite ready to get the better of existence.
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Open your eyes, train your ears, use your head. If a mind you have, then use it while you can.
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I turned to Rafe and swam (and sunk) in his hazel eyes.
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In the eyes of a seer, every leaf of a tree is a page of the Holy Book and contains divine revelation.
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A thousand laughing suns are in your eyes. A thousand crying stars in mine.
