Quotes
Quotes about Eye
A cat will look down to a man. A dog will look up to a man. But a pig will look you straight in the eye and see his equal.
She's adorned Amply, that in her husband's eye looks lovely,-- The truest mirror that an honest wife Can see her beauty in!
How his eyes languish! how his thoughts adore That painted coat, which Joseph never wore! He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin, That touch'd the ruff, that touched Queen Bess' chin.
So many ghosts, and forms of fright, Have started from their graves to-night, They have driven sleep from mine eyes away; I will go down to the chapel and pray.
All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, All intellect, all sense, and as they please They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size, Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.
A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets; As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun; and the moist star Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.
Thy neck is a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bathrabbim: thy nose is as the tower Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes And heedless hearts is lawful prize, Not all that glisters gold.
And gazed around them to the left and right With the prophetic eye of appetite.
I'll privily away; I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes; Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and aves vehement, Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does not affect it.
Like Dead Sea fruit that tempts the eye, But turns to ashes on the lips!
The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge By woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize To tempt us in theatre, senate, or college-- I mean the love-apples that bloom in the eyes. - Horace Smith and James Smith,
Life can be seen through your eyes but it is not fully appreciated until it is seen through your heart.
Grandeur . . . consists in form, and not in size: and to the eye of the philosopher, the curve drawn on a paper two inches long, is just as magnificent, just as symbolic of divine mysteries and melodies, as when embodied in the span of some cathedral roof.
The perfection of an art consists in the employment of a comprehensive system of laws, commensurate to every purpose within its scope, but concealed from the eye of the spectator; and in the production of effects that seem to flow forth spontaneously, as though uncontrolled by their influence, and which are equally excellent, whether regarded individually, or in reference to the proposed result.
The artist should be a seeing-eye dog for a myopic civilization.
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts And eloquence.
Life is the movie you see through your own eyes. It makes little difference what's happening out there. It's how you take it that counts.
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? . . . And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority--a dog's obeyed in office.
Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will.
Look! how he laughs and stretches out his arms, And opens wide his blue eyes upon thine, To hail his father; while his little form Flutters as winged with joy. Talk not of pain! The childless cherubs well might envy thee The pleasures of a parent.
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps; Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps; She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes.
When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud. The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery.
The hair she means to have is gold, Her eyes are blue, she's twelve weeks old, Plump are her fists and pinky. She fluttered down in lucky hour From some blue deep in yon sky bower-- I call her "Little Dinky."
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
