As soon as I look up, his eyes click onto my face. The breath whooshes out of my body and everything freezes for a second, as though I’m looking at him through my camera lens, zoomed in all the way, the world pausing for that tiny span of time between the opening and closing of the shutter.
For a moment his eyes locked onto me with an intensity that left me breathless.
In his eyes I saw all the other possibilities. The dream-world possibilities. The fairytale possibilities. The seemingly impossible possibilities.
His eyes were bright, and, indeed, he scarcely knew whether they held dreams or realities...and in five minutes she had filled the shell of the old dream with the flesh of life.
...and his eyes were so green they could turn carbon dioxide into oxygen.
Three things tell a man: his eyes, his friends and his favorite quotes
Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.
"A man falls in love through his eyes, a woman through her ears."
He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.
His hands can't hit what his eyes can't see.
The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed (Albert Einstein)
The eye of the master will do more work than both his hands.
Women forget all the things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget.
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell.
Just because a man lacks the use of his eyes doesn't mean he lacks vision.
Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board.
Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men. Now, women forget all those things they don't want to remember, and remember everything they don't want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.
Sometimes when you look in his eyes you get the feeling that someone else is driving.
This is a man with an old face, always old... There was pathos, in his face, and in his eyes. The early weariness; and sometimes tears in his eyes, Which he let slip unconsciously on his cheek, Or brushed away with an unconcerned hand. There were tears for human suffering, or for a glance Into the vast futility of life, Which he had seen from the first, being old When he was born.
I was glad my father was an eye-smiler. It meant he never gave me a fake smile, because it's impossible to make your eyes twinkle if you aren't feeling twinkly yourself. A mouth-smile is different. You can fake a mouth-smile any time you want, simply by moving your lips. I've also learned that a real mouth-smile always has an eye-smile to go with it, so watch out, I say, when someone smiles at you with his mouth but the eyes stay the same. It's sure to be bogus.
I admire a lot of people, but in terms of sport I've always loved the mentality of Tiger Woods on a golf course. I always love his eyes when he's setting himself and focusing on his decision; he has a really strong, focused face and believes that he can make the shot.
A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then-the glory-so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished.
No one may shut his eyes to think the pain, which is therefore not visible to him, is non-existent.
A strange, glazed expression came into his eyes and he staggered around the cabin looking for all the world like a zombie unwilling to take part in an experiment in advanced necromancy.
I saw a very old man, literally eating his own human waste out of hunger. I went to the nearby hotel and asked them what was available. They had idli, which I bought and gave to the old man. Believe me, I had never seen a person eating so fast, ever. As he ate the food, his eyes were filled with tears. Those were the tears of happiness.
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