The Eyes Of The Dragon Quotes

His rope, his legs, his luck. Either all would hold or all would break, quite possibly at the same time. ~ Stephen King

No one ever forgets a toy that made him or her supremely happy as a child, even if that toy is replaced by one like it that is much nicer. ~ Stephen King

Chapter One of My Life. I walk down the street. There's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in.
I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It still takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter Two. I walk down the same street. There's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I'm in the same place! But it isn't my fault. And it still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter Three. I walk down the same street. There's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it there. I still fall in. It's a habit! My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
Chapter Four. I walk down the same street. There's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
Chapter Five. I walk down a different street. ~ Portia Nelson

Seagulls dove among corpses and survivors alike. Turner later told his son, Norman, that he found himself fending off attacks by the birds, which swooped from the sky and pecked at the eyes of floating corpses. Rescuers later reported that wherever they saw spirals of gulls, they knew they would find bodies. Turner's experience left him with such a deep hatred of seagulls, according to Norman, that until his retirement he used to carry a .22 rifle and shoot every seagull he could. ~ Erik Larson

Some people appear to be happy, but they simply don't give the matter much thought. Others make plans: I'm going to have a husband, a home, two children, a house in the country. As long as they're busy doing that, they're like bulls looking for the bullfighter: they react instinctively, they blunder on, with no idea where the target is. They get their car, sometimes they even get a Ferrari, and they think that's the meaning of life, and they never question it. Yet their eyes betray the sadness that even they don't know they carry in their soul. Are you happy? ~ Paulo Coelho

By day we may deal with the airy superstructure of our emotions, but, at three in the morning, we get down to the foundation. At night the soul claims the right to stand face to face with itself, as before some mirror placed in a pitiless light and, with unsparing eyes, seek the truth. ~ Myrtle Reed

Hang on – what are you wearing?" Keefe asked as she threw back her covers, revealing the sparkly slogans on her tunic. "Is that a Bangs Boy reference? Because you know I haven't let him into the Foster Fan Club, right?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "It's an inside joke – and Linh made this for me."

"Yeah, well, it still breaks the fan club rules. As penance, I'm giving you a tunic that says, 'Empaths Give Me All the Feels," and I expect to see you wear it twice as much as Bang Boys. ~ Shannon Messenger

She lit the candelabras which stood on the mantelpiece. Placed at the head of the bead, on a side-table, they looked like two burning bushes, their flames solemn and inextinguishable. But beneath that avalanche of light the dead man became hideous: the pale head displayed a whiteness more livid than the bedsheet, ghastly against the cambric of the pillow; pits of shadow were hollowed out under the eyes and his nose was villainously elongated, and even the mouth seemed wicked – his mouth, which was so very gentle!
~ Remy De Gourmont

Lately I can't help wanting us
to be like other people.
For example, if I were a smoker,

you'd lift a match to the cigarette
just as I put it between my lips.
It's never been like that

between us: none of that
easy chemistry, no quick, half automatic
flares. Everything between us

had to be learned.
Saturday finds me brooding
behind my book, all my fantasies

of seduction run up
against the rocks.
Tell me again

why you don't like
sex in the afternoon?
No, don't tell me--

I'll never understand you
never understand us, America's strangest
loving couple: they never

drink a bottle of wine together
and rarely look at each other.
Into each other's eyes, I mean. ~ Deborah Garrison

He felt the hot impact of bullets. He heard the sound of chopping meat. He thought 'is that me?' ... and then he opened his eyes. ~ Grant Morrison

The Man's upturned blue eyes were so unimaginably beautiful that they could make anybody tremble with awe. In this moment, however they also glimmered with an icy fire, perhaps revealing the fury of his wounded pride, or rather, a manifestation of his uncontrollable obsession. ~ Rieko Yoshihara

This is rich." Tymur's eyes reddened with satisfaction. "The scourge of the Lore paired with a mortal? You could have no greater liability. So difficult to keep this species alive. ~ Kresley Cole

All political power, all power as such, is stupid. Don't rush after it, don't be ambitious, because all ambition collects dust and only dust. If you are not disillusioned by dust, you will not be able to know what truth is. A man obsessed with ambition is not capable of knowing truth at all. Eyes full of ambition never see what is; they only see what they want to see. The ambitious mind is the wrong mind; the non-ambitious mind is the right mind. ~ Rajneesh

I think a lover, when broken, is given a gift
not a scar, not a poem, not a rhyme
(unless it fits.)
I think as humans, we see a set of hues
but when wounded, we see something more:
deeper shades of hurt and worry,
colors never seen before.
Because I can't imagine a child
could see the same black as a widower,
and I don't think healthy hearts
know the true meaning of blue.
When children close their eyes,
they see a color they call empty.
But in the eyelids of the bruised,
the empty black's a crowded room. ~ Katya Polo

He had never seen such eyes before, not even in the faces of soldiers unmanned in the midst of great carnage. Eyes like black mirrors, at once shallow and bottomless. He had the feeling that if he pressed his finger to one of those eyes, it would shatter and fall inward through a black cavern of grief and loss that could never be filled. ~ Greg Iles

Isabelle snorted. 'All the boys are gay. In this truck, anyway. Well, not you, Simon.'
'You noticed' said Simon.

'I think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual,' added Magnus.

'Please never say those words in front of my parents,' said Alec. 'Especially my father.'

'I thought your parents were okay with you, you know, coming out,' Simon said, leaning around Isabelle to look at Alec, who was - as he often was - scowling, and pushing his floppy dark hair out of his eyes. Aside from the occasional exchange, Simon had never talked to Alec much. He wasn't an easy person to get to know. But, Simon admitted to himself, his own recent estrangement from his mother made him more curious about Alec's answer than he would have been otherwise.

'My mother seems to have accepted it,' Alec said. 'But my father - no, not really. Once he asked me what I thought had turned me gay.'

Simon felt Isabelle tense next to him. 'Turned you gay?' She sounded incredulous. 'Alec, you didn't tell me that.'

'I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider,' said Simon.

Magnus snorted; Isabelle looked confused. 'I've read Magnus's stash of comics,' said Alec, 'so I actually know what you're talking about' A small smile played around his mouth. 'So would that give me the proportional gayness of a spider?'

'Only if it was a really gay spider,' said Magnus, and he yelled as Alec punched him in the arm. 'Ow, oka ~ Cassandra Clare

Good dog," Nick said. "That's one of the tricks I've taught him, shaking water on girls so they back into my arms."
"Really! How smart of Rocky - and you, of course."
"That's another thing I've been wanting to tell you," he said, turning me to face him. "I'm tired of getting jealous of my dog. I mean, he has nice eyes, but so do I."
I looked from Rocky's golden eyes to Nick's laughing green ones.
"I didn't enjoy the way Rocky got to stick close to you while I played Holly's boyfriend. He's going to have some competition from now on."
"Oh, yeah? Are you good at retrieving sticks?"
"I'm good at stealing kisses," Nick said, then proved it. ~ Elizabeth Chandler

In the front room, a two-story flutter, love notes from the German Frau's first marriage barely tethered to a structure so it shifted in the wind, one tiny home movie projected on each. A sculpture of marriage, marriage come alive.
Lancelot felt tears start to his eyes. It was so exactly right. The Germans saw the gleam, and both of them--like budgerigars on their perch--sidled up and hugged Lancelot around the waist. ~ Lauren Groff

Sight is one of the most easily deceived senses. I could make a coin disappear and your eyes would believe it gone, even if it were merely up my sleeve. ~ Megan Chance

Luxury spreads its ample board before their eyes; but they are excluded from the banquet. Plenty revels over the fields; but theyare starving in the midst of its abundance: the whole wilderness has blossomed into a garden; but they feel as reptiles that infest it. ~ Washington Irving

Shelby..." Her tongue skimmed over his while he cupped the back of her neck more firmly. "Shelby," he repeated a moment later, "there was something I wanted to talk to you about earlier, and I'm in danger of becoming as ditracted now as I was then."
"Promise?" She moved her lips to his throat.
"I have a command performance this weekend."
"Oh?" She switched to his ear.
In self-defense, Aan rolled over and pinned her beneath him. "I got a call from my father this afternoon."
"Ah" Humor danced in her eyes. "The laird."
"The title would appeal to him." Alan grasped her wrists to prevent her from clouding his mind as she seemed bent on doing. "It seems he's planned one of his famous family weekends. Come with me."
One brow lifted. "To the MacGregor fortress in Hyannis Port? Unarmed?"
"We'll hoist the white flag."
She wanted to go.She wanted to say no. A visit to his family home came perilously close to that final commitment she was so carefully sidestepping. Questions, speculation-there'd be no avoiding them. Alan heard her thoughts as clearly as if it had been spoken.Pushng back frustration, he changed tactics.
"I have orders to bring that girl-" he watched her eyes narrow- "-that daughter of the thieving, murdering Campbells,with me."
"Oh,is that so?"
"Just so," Alan returned mildly.
Shelby lifted her chin. "When do we leave? ~ Nora Roberts

She blinked up at him in confusion. "What happened?"
"The horse reared and fell." Christopher's voice came out in a rasp. "Tell me your name."
"Why are you asking me that?"
"Your name," he insisted.
"Beatrix Heloise Hathaway." She looked at him with round blue eyes. "Now that we know who I am…who are you?"

At Christopher's expression, Beatrix snickered and wrinkled her nose impishly. "I'm teasing. Really. I know who you are. I'm perfectly all right."
Over Christopher's shoulder, Beatrix caught sight of Leo shaking his head in warning, drawing a finger across his throat. ~ Lisa Kleypas

If you want," he said with a shrug. "It's up to you. If you want to be lifted, I'll lift you.'
"Oh yes," Elsa said, refilling all the glasses. "There will be lifting."
Clio realized that she hadn't spoken through any of this. It was all Elsa lifting and carrying the conversation, twirling around with it.
"Sure," Clio said. "Pick up me up."
Aidan tipped his head in concession, his green eyes lit up for once.
"You want me to pick you up, I guess I can't refuse. ~ Maureen Johnson

From the first note I knew it was different from anything I had ever heard.... It began simply, but with an arresting phrase, so simple, but eloquent as a human voice. It spoke, beckoning gently as it unwound, rising and tensing. It spiraled upward, the tension growing with each repeat of the phrasing, and yet somehow it grew more abandoned, wilder with each note. His eyes remained closed as his fingers flew over the strings, spilling forth surely more notes than were possible from a single violin. For one mad moment I actually thought there were more of them, an entire orchestra of violins spilling out of this one instrument. I had never heard anything like it--it was poetry and seduction and light and shadow and every other contradiction I could think of. It seemed impossible to breathe while listening to that music, and yet all I was doing was breathing, quite heavily. The music itself had become as palpable a presence in that room as another person would have been--and its presence was something out of myth. ~ Deanna Raybourn

Even though fixed in time, a photograph evokes as much feeling as that which comes from music or dance. Whatever the mode - from the snapshot to the decisive moment to multi-media montage - the intent and purpose of photography is to render in visual terms feelings and experiences that often elude the ability of words to describe. In any case, the eyes have it, and the imagination will always soar farther than was expected. ~ Ralph Gibson

But he knew life, its foulness as well as its fairness, its greatness in spite of the slime that infested it, and by God he was going to have his say on it to the world. Saints in heaven - how could they be anything but fair and pure? No praise to them. But saints in slime - ah, that was the everlasting wonder! That was what made life worth while. To see moral grandeur rising out of cesspools of iniquity; to rise himself and first glimpse beauty, faint and far, through mud- dripping eyes; to see out of weakness, and frailty, and viciousness, and all abysmal brutishness, arising strength, and truth, and high spiritual endowment. ~ Jack London

Honestly, Edward." I felt a thrill go through me as I said his name, and I hated it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."
"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."
"Oh, thanks, now that's all cleared up." Heavy sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily look at his face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.
"It would be more ... prudent for you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."
His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his voice smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Being afraid's not always bad." he said gently. "It can keep you moving forward. It can help you get things done."
The silence between us was different than any silence I'd known before, full and warm and waiting. "What are you afraid of?" I dared to ask.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if it were something he'd never been asked before. For a moment I thought he wouldn't answer. But he let out a slow breath, and his gaze left mine to sweep across the trailer park. "Staying here." he finally said. "Staying until I'm not fit to belong anywhere else."
"Where do you want to belong?" I half whispered.
His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me. ~ Lisa Kleypas

There's no more personal issue than gun violence; every one of these stories is a life lost, i'm hoping that over the long term, as I tell these stories, that it will help to open people's eyes. ~ Chris Murphy

In the eyes of history, religious toleration is the highest evidence of culture in a people. It was not until the Western nations broke away from their religious law that they became more tolerant, and it was only when the Muslims fell away from their religious law that they declined in tolerance and other evidences of the highest culture. ~ Marmaduke Pickthall

His blue eyes were watching her now; she saw in them the vulnerability, the invitation, the fear, as she sat down quietly, placed her open hand on his chest, felt the thump, thump of his heart, which would someday stop, as all hearts do. But there was no someday now. ~ Elizabeth Strout

With each deep inhalation, he was aware of a sweet, pure fragrance that entered his nostrils and spread through his brain like a drug.
"What is that smell?" he muttered.
Vivian answered in a hushed voice. "Mrs. Buttons distilled some vanilla water for me. Do you like it?"
"We brought your perfume from the town house. Why didn't you use that?"
Her gaze flickered to his mouth and back to his eyes. "It didn't suit me," she whispered. "Too heady."
Grant drew in another lungful of delicate vanilla-scented air. "You smell like a sugar biscuit," he answered gruffly. One he badly wanted to bite into. Her scent was innocent and homey and appetizing, making his blood surge and his muscles harden in acute yearning. ~ Lisa Kleypas

The criminal who revolted against society hates it, and considers himself in the right; society was wrong, not he. Has he not, moreover, undergone his punishment? Accordingly he is absolved, acquitted in his own eyes. In spite of different opinions, everyone will acknowledge that there are acts which everywhere and always, under no matter what legal system, are beyond doubt criminal, and should be regarded as long as man is man. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I cracked the window shades of my eyes. Jake knelt over me, the head of my cock in his mouth.
I raised my head, mumbled, "What are you doing?"
He paused the proceedings long enough to utter, "If you don't know, I must not be doing it correctly. ~ Josh Lanyon

With my dog-eyes I stop before the sea. Tremulous and sick. Bent, thin, I smell fish in the driftwood. Fishbone. Tail. I gaze at the sea but don't know its name. I remain standing there, askance, and what I feel is also nameless. I feel my dog body. I don't know the world, nor the sea in front of me. I lie down because my dog body orders it. There's a bark in my throat, a gentle howl. I try to expel it but man-dog I know that I'm dying and I will never be heard. Now I'm a spirit. I'm free and fly over my miserable being, my abandonment, the nothing that contains me and that made me on Earth. I am rising, wet like fog. ~ Hilda Hilst

When the Word speaks of the heart, it is referring to the THINKING INSTRUMENT of the SOUL.

Scripture tell us that the heart is the seat of emotions. When Paul prays that the "eyes of the Christian heart" be enlightened, he is asking God to help us grasp the revelation of things revealed to the mind and apply the understanding to our heart. He wants the revelations to move, motivate, and deepen our spiritual insight. With knowledge, we can then use wisdom to apply the understanding to our lives.

"The eyes of your understanding": (ophthalmos) + (kardia), "The eyes of your heart. ~ Cheryl Zelenka

She said she didn't love him, and he said it didn't matter, and the poverty of their words brought tears to their eyes. ~ Francoise Sagan

I closed my eyes and listened to the waves. Thousands of fish out there, eating each other. Endless mouths and assholes swallowing and shitting. The whole earth was nothing but mouths and assholes swallowing and shitting, and fucking. ~ Charles Bukowski

Just for future reference, don't use words like "love" anymore. It's a very sensitive word and it wears out quickly. Romeo barely says it, but John Hinckley filled up a whole journal with it. To put it into your terms, it's a currency that's easily devalued. Pretty soon you're saying it whenever you hang up the phone or whenever you leave. It turns into an apology. Then it's an excuse. Some assholes want it to be a bulletproof vest: don't hate me; I love you. But mostly it just means--more. More, more--give me something more. A couple of years from now, when you're on your own completely, if you really fall in love, if it really comes to that--and I pity you if it does--you have to look right down into the black of her eyes, right down into the emptiness in there and feel everything, absolutely everything she needs and you have to be willing to drown in it, Kevin. You'd have to want to be crushed, buried alive. Because that's what real love feels like--choking. They used to bury some women in their wedding dresses, you know. I thought it was because all those husbands were too cheap to spring for another gown, but now it makes sense: love is your first foot in the grave. That's why the second most abused word is "forever". ~ Peter Craig

He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since they'd come out to the terrace, and she was surprised by how much a man he appeared in the darkness. The light owed his face, harshening the angles of his straight nose, his strong jaw. His eyes glittered and Alex didn't know if it was a trick of the light, but she couldn't look away from him. ~ Sarah MacLean

How long are you planning on us sitting up here, kid?" Brendan asked.
I looked over at him. He sat still, with his head leant back against the rooftop wall, his eyes closed, his hands resting on his lap.
"Sorry, is being here getting in the way of your beauty sleep?"
"I don't need beauty sleep, kid. I'm naturally this good-looking."
I snorted.
"Whatever makes you feel good, Shifter." No point boosting his ego. ~ Elizabeth Morgan

Something about you now I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful Everything she does is right
Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do, nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you. ~ Lifehouse

I take off my shirt, I show you.
I shaved the hair out under my arms.
I roll up my pants, I scraped off the hair
on my legs with a knife, getting white.

My hair is the color of chopped maples.
My eyes dark as beans cooked in the south.
(Coal fields in the moon on torn-up hills)

Skin polished as a Ming bowl
showing its blood cracks, its age, I have hundreds
of names for the snow, for this, all of them quiet.

In the night I come to you and it seems a shame
to waste my deepest shudders on a wall of a man.

You recognize strangers,
think you lived through destruction.
You can't explain this night, my face, your memory.

You want to know what I know?
Your own hands are lying. ~ Carolyn Forche

He places a hand on either side of the bar, locking me in. 'And why won't you admit it?' he asks.
I'm so startled by his new, gentler tone that I hazard a glance. My breath catches in my throat. Jared's eyes have changed to that sumptuous green, huge and mesmerizing, the pupils dilating like a cat's. I can't see to look away as he inches forward, until he's standing all but a hair's breadth away from me. ~ L.E. Sterling

Do you get it now,Becks?" Jack wrapped a finger around a long strand of my hair, and we were quiet as it slipped through his grip.
"You haven't moved on?"
He chuckled. "I have a lifetime of memories made up of chestnut wars and poker games and midnight excursions and Christmas Dances...It's all you. It's only ever been you.I love you." The last part seemed to escape his lips unintentionally, and afterward he closed his eyes and put his head in his hands,as if he had a sudden headache. "I've gotta not say that out loud."
The sight of how messed up he was made me want to wrap my arms around him and fold him into me and cushion him from everything that lay ahead.
Instead,I reached for his hand. Brought it to my lips. Kissed it.
He raised his head and winced. "You shouldn't do that," he said, even though he didn't pull his hand away.
"Why?"
"Because...it'll make everything worse...If you don't feel-"
His voice cut off as I kissed his hand again, pausing with his fingers at my lips. He let out a shaky sigh and his hair flopped forward. Then he looked at my lips for a long moment. "What if...?"
I bit my lower lip. "What?"
"What if we could be like this again?" He leaned in closer with a smile, and as he did,he said, "Are you going to steal my soul?"
"Um...it's not technically your soul that..."
I couldn't finish my sentence. His lips brushed mine, and I felt the whoosh of transferring emotions,but it wasn't as strong as th ~ Brodi Ashton

And while Trish stared - stared, as it now seemed, into her own eyes - Guy held her hand and watched the crowd: how it bled colour from the enormous room and drew all energy towards itself, forming one triumphal being; how it trembled, then burst or came or died, releasing individuality; and how the champion was borne along on its subsidence, his back slapped, his hair tousled, mimed by female hands and laughing, like the god of mobs. ~ Martin Amis

Dellarobia noted they were not a perfect physical match: Nelda plump and rosy-cheeked, her mother fine-boned. The resemblance blazed in their wide brown eyes and the way they nodded, the gnomy caps bobbing. Mother-daughter adventurers. She felt a pang of longing, as she often did in church. Everybody had a mother and a God; those were standard issue. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

Is it not rather ugly, one may ask? One collects material possessions not only for security, comfort or vanity, but for beauty as well. Is your sea-shell house not ugly and bare? No, it is beautiful, my house. It is bare, of course, but the wind, the sun, the smell of the pines blow through its bareness. The unfinished beams in the roof are veiled by cobwebs. They are lovely, I think, gazing up at them with new eyes; ~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Ellie I have never in life ... ever sweetheart ... experienced these feelings that i have for you. You walk into a room and i have to catch my breath at the sight of you. You flash your beautiful smile at me and there's not a damn thing in this world I wouldnt do for you. Your laugh moves through my body like a jolt of electricity. Your eyes captivate mine; your lips bring me to my knee's. I want to know every part of you Ellie. I'm just as confused by these feelings as you are sweetheart but i want you to know something, I'll never push you or give up on us I promise you that. Please Ellie just let me in. Let me prove to you how much i want to be with you ~ Kelly Elliott

And you must appear willing to marry me," Oliver said.
"I understand."
"Do you? It means you'll have to act as if you enjoy my company."
To his surprise, a small smile curved her lips. "I believe I can manage that." Then, as if realizing she was softening, she wiped the smile from her face. "But you must behave responsibly, too."
"By not trying to seduce you, you mean."
She started. "No! I mean, yes…I mean, you already said you have more urgent concerns." Alarm rose in her cheeks. "Oh dear, I forgot that you also said you have no honor or morals."
He'd made similar assertions half his life, yet tonight he regretted making them. Shocking young ladies seemed to have lost some of its appeal.
"All the same, Miss Butterfield, I promise that your virtue is safe from me." When she looked skeptical, he added, "You're not the sort of woman I prefer." A respectable woman came with strings attached.
"Of course I'm not," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyone can see that."
That took him aback.
She went on. "A man with no morals isn't going to want a woman who has them. She'd never let him do anything wicked."
Freddy coughed, as if choking on something. Oliver understood why. Miss Butterfield had an unnerving way of cutting everything down to its essence.
"Yes," he said, for lack of a better response. "Quite." Then he narrowed his gaze on her. "So what did you mean when you said I had to 'behave responsibly'?"
"You prom ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Our personal identities are socially situated. We are where we live, eat, work, and make love. [ ... ]
Our sense of identity is in large measure conferred on us by others in the ways they treat or mistreat us, recognize or ignore us, praise us or punish us. Some people make us timid and shy; others elicit our sex appeal and dominance. In some groups we are made leaders, while in others we are reduced to being followers. We come to live up to or down to the expectations others have of us. The expectations of others often become self-fulfilling prophecies. Without realizing it, we often behave in ways that confirm the beliefs others have about us. Those subjective beliefs create new realities for us. We often become who other people think we are, in their eyes and in our behavior. ~ Philip G. Zimbardo