Starry Eyes Quotes

You've earned an honorable death, creature." He meets my gaze; his eyes begin to glow, as if filled with stars. I can't look away. "This will not hurt for long."

There is no sympathy in Death's starry eyes, nothing but resolve as he secures my wrists, pinning them with one gloved hand. He raises the other to his mouth, using his teeth to tug off the gauntlet.

To touch me.

- I'm coming for you, Empress. -

I woke, shooting upright. Death was in my dreams and in my mind. It was as if I could sense his presence in my head, a heavy feeling. Like being possessed. ~ Kresley Cole

When everyone was busy playing their cards, guessing others hands and counting chips, we took a deck and a bottle and a corner table. At the end of that dreamy night, rattles stopped, bottles emptied, everyone gone. But there on our table was this beautiful house erected of cards, stories, hopes and secrets. Something we built quite unknowingly. She looked at me with starry eyes and whispered – "Can we keep it?" The curious inn keeper, from a distance answered – "No".

She made a face and looked at me and I said – "We shall come back tomorrow and make a new one everyday".

And we never did. ~ Nahiar Ozar

You can be in love with someone you hardly know, all romance and rapture and starry eyes ... But you can't love a person till you know him or her inside out, until you have lived with them and shared experience ... you have got to share living before you can find love. ~ Stan Barstow

When I looked up at the stars, I saw us. You were the stars and I was the dark sky behind you"
"Without dark sky you couldn't see the stars"
"I knew I was useful" he says
"You're essential ~ Jenn Bennett

You with the stars
in your eyes
put them back
in the sky.
You're ruining it
for the rest of us. ~ Pamela August Russell

Sculpting them in a drizzle shawl,
I would have have weaved your dreams
in my distinct eyes;
I would have taken your cheeks,
and decorated them with full moon sights,
writing verses with starry eyes;
I would have invented diction suiting
your stammering tongue,
writing stories about your happy childhood;
I would have traveled beside western winds,
bringing roses from far lands, from Samarkand,
from the rose gardens touching Turkish valleys,
from mountains smelling of Azerbaijan.
I would have portrayed you a an honest mother,
buying your children a happy house, a giant sky;
I would have made orchards of your ripe smiles,
tending rains and sunlight into their broad borders;
Ah, I would have sown your braided hair
into almonds, saffron and homegrown walnuts,
into tufts of a lifelong breeze. ~ Ashfaq Saraf

It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair,
Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair.

Tell me not of your starry eyes,
Your lips that seem on roses fed,
Your breasts where Cupid trembling lies,
Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed.

...Give me, instead of beauty's bust,
A tender heart, a loyal mind,
Which with temptation I could trust,
Yet never linked with error find.

One in whose gentle bosom I
Could pour my secret heart of woes.
Like the care-burdened honey-fly
That hides his murmurs in the rose.

My earthly comforter! whose love
So indefeasible might be,
That when my spirit won above
Hers could not stay for sympathy. ~ George Darley

my eyes going to close ; iam happy to feel that moment to be with you....! ~ Felix A. Samuel

It must be murder to be an aging beauty, a former Tadzio, to see your future as an ignored spectator rushing up to meet you like the hard pavement. What a small sip of gall to be able to time with each passing year the ever-shorter interval in which someone's eyes focus upon you. And then shift away. ~ David Rakoff

The arts are part of a nation's identity, they are part of a nation's soul and when we look at a country from the eyes of people overseas they are part of a nations branding in the world as it were. ~ George Brandis

Math is like water. It has a lot of difficult theories, of course, but its basic logic is very simple. Just as water flows from high to low over the shortest possible distance, figures can only flow in one direction. You just have to keep your eye on them for the route to reveal itself. That's all it takes. You don't have to do a thing. Just concentrate your attention and keep your eyes open, and the figures make everything clear to you. In this whole, wide world, the only thing that treats me so kindly is math. ~ Haruki Murakami

Another reason we know that language could not determine thought is that when a language isn't up to the conceptual demands of its speakers, they don't scratch their heads dumbfounded (at least not for long); they simply change the language. They stretch it with metaphors and metonyms, borrow words and phrases from other languages, or coin new slang and jargon. (When you think about it, how else could it be? If people had trouble thinking without language, where would their language have come from-a committee of Martians?) Unstoppable change is the great given in linguistics, which is not why linguists roll their eyes at common claims such as that German is the optimal language of science, that only French allows for truly logical expression, and that indigenous languages are not appropriate for the modern world. As Ray Harlow put it, it's like saying, Computers were not discussed in Old English; therefore computers cannot be discussed in Modern English. ~ Steven Pinker

She envied Ralph his dying, for if one were thinking of rest that was the most perfect of all. To cease utterly, to give it all up and not know anything more - this idea was as sweet as a vision of a cool bath in a marble tank, in a darkened chamber, in a hot land ... but Isabel recognized, as it passed before her eyes, the quick vague shadow of a long future. She should never escape; she should last to the end. ~ Henry James

He was now beginning to wonder whether the jigsaw was the correct metaphor for relationships between me and women after all. It didn't take account of the sheer stubbornness of human beings, their determination to affix themselves to another even if they didn't fit. They didn't care about jutting off at weird angles, and they didn't care about phone booths and Mary, Queen of Scots. They were motivated not by seamless and sensible matching, but by eyes, mouths, smiles, minds, breasts and chests and bottoms, wit, kindness, charm, romantic history and all sorts of other things that made straight edges impossible to achieve. ~ Nick Hornby

God notices you. The fact is he can't take his eyes off of you. However badly you think of yourself, God is crazy about you. God is in love with you. Some of us even fear that someday we'll do something so bad that he won't notice us anymore. Well, let me tell you, God loves you completely. And he knew us at our worst before he ever began to love us at all. And in the love of God there are no degrees, there is only love. ~ Rich Mullins

The envious must climb with their eyes sewn shut so they cannot covet; the prideful must carry huge stones on their backs to bend them low in a humble manner; the gluttonous must climb without food or water, thereby suffering excruciating hunger; and the lustful must ascend through hot flames to purge themselves of passion's heat. ~ Dan Brown

This image of herself as a not ordinary women, an image which was trembling now in his eyes, might suddenly disappear. Nothing more difficult to live up to than men's dreams. ~ Anais Nin

And all I do is look into your eyes For that special touch of paradise ~ John Farnham

She tensed as she felt a gentle arm curve behind her shoulders.
It was the duchess, her blue eyes radiant with kindness and a hint of concern, as if she understood how frightening it was to have made the most important decision of her life based on a few days' acquaintance. But there was no way this woman would understand what it was like to face the prospect of marrying a virtual stranger. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Mulan tried to Keep Herself from Blushing. The Young Man in Front of Her Was Tall,Lean and Very, Very Handsome. His Eyes Were Twinkling and Kind

He offered his Hand Again.

Distracted by His Good Looks and the Charming Smile He was Flashing at Her, Mulan Almost, Almost Took His hand but Then She Stopped. ~ Elizabeth Rudnick

It is said,' said the Aga Morat, 'that blindness of the eyes is a lighter thing than blindness of the perceptive faculties of the mind. The sun is high: the perception is dazzled. One has made divers chambers available to us in these poor houses for an hour. Let us retire and, by giving ease to the flesh, bring new light also to the proper functions of the mind. There, for the Hakim's servant Mr Blyth, and the lady. In this chamber, Crawford Efendi and I shall have much to discuss.… Sweet to be taken up, you say, as medicine is by the lip. Such a creature I enjoy, thin-skinned, tender and delicate, light of flesh and goodly in make, impulsive in walk and beautiful in the justness of stature. Communing thus, shall not our dreaming souls melt?'

For a moment, Lymond did not reply. Then he said, in the same level voice, 'It is written before God, that after this hour we depart all four, in good health to Djerba?'

The Aga Morat had risen. Looking down, his heavy face creased in a smile. 'It is written,' he said.

Slowly, Lymond rose also. He looked neither at Jerott nor at Marthe, but stepped straight out from under the awning and confronted the Aga. In the blinding white light, the fine lines of his skin were all suddenly visible, and his eyes by contrast quite dark. But his hair, uncut since Marseilles, shone mint-gold in the sun. 'If it is so agreed,' Lymond said, 'I am solicitous for thee, as thou art for me.' And without pausing, he followed th ~ Dorothy Dunnett

How many times have you told me you're a monster? So be a monster. Be the thing they all fear when they close their eyes at night. ~ Leigh Bardugo

Gretchen's eyes blazed at Henry. 'Don't ever think you can know what I'll do ~ Chelsea Cain

When I was a child her sureness enraged me (regardless of the argument involved). It was a sureness that revealed - at least to my eyes - how, behind the bravado, she was vulnerable and hesitent, whereas I wanted her to be invincible. Consequently, I would contradict whatever it was she was being so certain about, in the hope we might discover something else, which we could question together with a shared confidence. Yet what happened, in fact, was that my counterattacks, made her more frail than she usually was, and the two of us would be drawn, helpless, into a malestrom of perdition and lamentation, silently crying out for an angel to come and save us. On no such occasion did an angel come. ~ John Berger

Oh, the way he was looking at her, really looking at her . . . this was the Christopher of her dreams. This was the man who had written to her. He was so caring, and real, and dazzling, that she wanted to weep.

"I thought . . ." Christopher broke off and drew his thumb over the hot surface of her cheek.

"I know," she whispered, her nerves sparking in excitement at his touch.

"I didn't mean to do that."

"I know."

His gaze went to her parted lips, lingering until she felt it like a caress. Her heart labored to supply blood to her nerveless limbs. Every breath caused her body to lift up against his, a teasing friction of firm flesh and clean, warm linen.

Beatrix was transfixed by the subtle changes in his face, the heightening color, the silver brightness of his eyes.

She wondered if he were going to kiss her.

And a single word flashed through her mind.

Please. . . ~ Lisa Kleypas

You're right. Maybe it wouldn't change anything." His gaze shifted from the brightening ocean to me. I didn't need to look into his eyes to feel their intensity. "But maybe it would change everything. ~ Nicole Williams

Devoutly the teachers point out huge fumigated domes; but beneath the statues there's no love, no love beneath the eyes set in crystal. Love is there, in flesh ripped by thirst, in the tiny hut struggling against the flood; love is there, in ditches where snakes of hunger wrestle, in the sad sea that rocks dead gulls, and in the darkest stinging kiss under pillows. ~ Federico Garcia Lorca

If y'can't see with yore own two eyes what's in front of them, then y'better off closin' 'em an' goin' t'sleep, 'tis far more restful!
- Gerul ~ Brian Jacques

I struggle between what I know is right in my own mind, and some warped truthfulness as seen through other people's eyes who have no heart, and can't see the difference anyway. ~ Ian Curtis

He asked them to close their eyes, and hoped their mouths would follow suit. p. 137 ~ Anthony Marra

Entering the office, Evie found Sebastian and Cam on opposite sides of the desk. They both mulled over account ledgers, scratching out some entries with freshly inked pens, and making notations beside the long columns. Both men looked up as she crossed the threshold. Evie met Sebastian's gaze only briefly; she found it hard to maintain her composure around him after the intimacy of the previous night. He paused in mid-sentence as he stared at her, seeming to forget what he had been saying to Cam. It seemed that neither of them was yet comfortable with feelings that were still too new and powerful. Murmuring good morning to them both, she bid them to remain seated, and she went to stand beside Sebastian's chair.
"Have you breakfasted yet, my lord?" she asked.
Sebastian shook his head, a smile glinting in his eyes. "Not yet."
"I'll go to the kitchen and see what is to be had."
"Stay a moment," he urged. "We're almost finished."
As the two men discussed a few last points of business, which pertained to a potential investment in a proposed shopping bazaar to be constructed on St. James Street, Sebastian picked up Evie's hand, which was resting on the desk. Absently he drew the backs of her fingers against the edge of his jaw and his ear while contemplating the written proposal on the desk before him. Although Sebastian was not aware of what the casual familiarity of the gesture revealed, Evie felt her color rise as she met Cam's gaze over her husband ~ Lisa Kleypas

He offered a prayer so deeply devout that he seemed kneeling and praying at the bottom of the sea. ~ Herman Melville

close your eyes. Continue offering these good wishes while visualizing both the Wild Child and the Dictator until you genuinely mean it, until you can feel compassion toward both sides of yourself. When you get there, consider the following question. Who are you? The only reason you can "see" and offer kindness to both Dictator and the Wild Child is that you're not either one of them. You've moved into a third realm of consciousness, which resides, literally, in a different part of your brain. Call it the Watcher. ~ Martha N. Beck

Your eyes see me in ways the mirror never could. ~ Jenim Dibie

The corpse opened his eyes. ~ Donato Carrisi

The rabbit presses back her ears, Turns back her liquid, anguished eyes And crouches low: then with wild spring Spurts from the terror of his oncoming To be choked back, the wire ring Her frantic effort throttling: Piteous brown ball of quivering fears! ~ D.H. Lawrence

As to my mouth, of all my features, I wish I could possess my mouth again, just as it had been before the fire. I had my mother's lips, generous below and above; and what kissing I had practiced, mainly on my hand or on a lonely pig, had convinced me that my lips would be the source of my good fortune. I would kiss with them, and lie with them, I would make victims and willing slaves of anyone my eyes desired, simply by talking a little, and following the talk with kisses, and the kisses with demands. And they'd melt into compliance, everyone of them, happy to perform the most demeaning acts as long as I was there to reward them with a long, tongue-tied kiss when they were done. But the fire didn't spare my lips; it took them too, erasing them utterly. ~ Clive Barker

As much as we sometimes roll our eyes at the ivory-tower isolation of universities, they continue to serve as remarkable engines of innovation. ~ Steven Johnson

You listen to me, and listen good!" she shouted, shocking me. "I am not evil because I have a thousand years of demon smut on my soul!" she exclaimed, the tips of her hair trembling and her face flushed. "Every time you disturb reality, nature has to balance it out. The black on your soul isn't evil, it's a promise to make up for what you have done. It's a mark, not a death sentence. And you can get rid of it given time."
"Ceri, I'm sorry," I fumbled, but she wasn't listening.
"You're an ignorant, foolish, stupid witch," she berated, and I cringed, my grip tightening on the copper spell pot and feeling the anger from her like a whip. "Are you saying because I carry the stink of demon magic, that I'm a bad person?"

"No..." I wedged in.

"That God will show no pity?" she said, green eyes flashing. "That because I made one mistake in fear that led to a thousand more that I will burn in hell?"

"No. Ceri -" I took a step forward.

"My soul is black," she said, her fear showing in her suddenly pale cheeks. "I'll never be rid of it all before I die, but it won't be because I'm a bad person but because I was a frightened one. ~ Kim Harrison

I slammed the back door shut and gave Caspian a look.
He put both hands up in the air, "What? I didn't do anything."
"No. But you wanted to. And besides, we don't really know yet what can you do."
"Well, I know I can't make people disappear," he muttered darkly "or else he would have been gone a half an hour ago"
I was shocked at how serious he sounded, and then I looked into his eyes, "You're jealous!"
"He wanted to kiss you!"
Now I was dumbfounded, "How do you know that?"
"Because," he said, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back "It's what I'd want to do ~ Jessica Verday

The tapping grows insistent, and I turn, intending to tell off the Cadet. Instead, I'm faced with a slave-girl looking up at me through impossibly long eyelashes. A heated, visceral shock flares through me at the clarity of her dark gold eyes. For a second, I forget my name.
I've never seen her before, because if I had, I'd remember. Despite the heavy silver cuffs and high, painful-looking bun that mark all of Blackcliff's drudges, nothing about her says slave. Her black dress fits her like a glove, sliding over every curve in a way that makes more than one head turn. Her full lips and fine, straight nose would be the envy of most girls, Scholar or not. I stare at her, realize I'm staring, tell myself to stop staring, and then keep staring. My breath falters, and my body, traitor that is, tugs me forward until there are only inches between us.

"Asp-aspirant Veturius."

It's the way she says my name - like it's something to fear - that brings me back to myself. Pull it together, Veturius. I step away, appalled at myself when I see the terror in her eyes.

"What is it?" I ask calmly. ~ Sabaa Tahir

He held up his hand and spread his fingers. "Today I stared at my hand for an hour. Then I turned into a dragon and stared at my claw. Do you know why?"
"You have gone insane?"
"Marina's fingers fit perfectly between the fingers of my hand when I am a man. When I was a dragon she would snuggle up to my talons, fit herself into my claw and kiss it sweetly, as if one wrong move wouldn't disembowel her." He smiled at Daniil when he rolled his eyes. "She is terrified of losing me. I didn't realize that until today. ~ Penelope Fletcher

Her eyes were clear; she hadn't been crying. She was a cop's wife first, a woman second; she wouldn't give in to tears as long as Wyatt was fighting for his life because she was fighting with him in spirit. ~ Dean Koontz

I've been wondering ... I mean, I thought you might be able to tell me something. Buddy met my eyes and I saw, for the first time, how he had changed. Instead of the old, sure smile that flashed on easily and frequently as a photographer's bulb, his face was grave, even tentative
the face of a man who often does not get what he wants. ~ Sylvia Plath

Chaol," he said, looking over his shoulder. Dorian's eyes were frozen, his jaw clenched. "Treat her well. ~ Sarah J. Maas

The half-brained creature to whom books are other than living things may see with the eyes of a bat and draw with the fingers of a mole his dullard's distinction between books and life: those who live the fuller life of a higher animal than he know that books are to poets as much part of that life as pictures are to painters or as music is to musicians, dead matter though they may be to the spiritually still-born children of dirt and dullness who find it possible and natural to live while dead in heart and brain. ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

The Gospel is entirely objective. The Gospel is completely outside of ourselves. The Gospel is not about the change which needs to be made in us, and it does not take place within us. It was completed in Christ, quite apart from us, almost two thousand years ago. The Gospel is not dependent on man in any way. The Gospel is distorted when we turn people's eyes to what is to be accomplished in them. We were not and cannot be involved in any part of Christ's historical, finished, redemptive work. The sinner must be taught to look completely away from himself and trust only in Christ and His work of salvation. ~ Trevor McIlwain

I'd convinced myself it would have been different if he'd been as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside, but he wasn't. He was cruel beauty, a sculpture, a god, and I couldn't tear my eyes from him. I'd seen his expression soften in the dungeon with the whip. I'd do anything to have him look at me like that again, no matter how insane he was. ~ Kitty Thomas

frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair - it just won't behave, and damn Katherine Kavanagh for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission. I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, brown-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at me, and give up. My only option is to restrain my wayward ~ E.L. James

I turned away. I couldn't hold his gaze for fear that my eyes would project the hurt, the pain I kept buried inside. ~ Sarah Jio

Finn," she protested. "I wasn't laughing like, with her." Izzy glowered at me. "She tried to kill me."
"Actually, I didn't," I broke in. There was a hard look in Aislinn's and Finley's eyes that scared the heck out of me. The last thing I wanted was to be held responsible for Elodie's actions, especially now that I was, technically, one of these women, and the words just came pouring out of my mouth. "See, I don't have powers anymore, because I was supposed to go through the Removal, and that sort of locked my magic away so that I can't use it. But there was this girl-well, this witch-Elodie, and because she passed her magic on to me when she died, we're connected. That means her ghost follows me around and stuff, so when you attacked me, she possessed my body. Which is new and, quite frankly, super freaky, and something that I haven't really processed yet. Anyway, she was the one who used magic on you. Oh, and held the sword to your throat, and said all that creepy stuff. I'm not creepy. At least not on purpose."
By now, all three Brannick women-all four, if you counted Mom-were staring at me. Man, what had that piney-tasting stuff been? The Brannick version of Red Bull?
"I'll, uh, stop talking now. ~ Rachel Hawkins

Sogni dóro, mia bella ragazza," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Sweet dreams my beautiful girl. ~ J.M. Darhower