Quotes
Quotes about Eye
The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, And, oh! the eye was in itself a Soul!
Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow, Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow, As if her veins ran lightning.
She walks in beauty like the night Of cloudless chimes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
She is not fair to outward view As many maidens be; Her loveliness I never knew Until she smiled on me: Oh! then I saw her eye was bright, A well of love, a spring of light.
The ladies of St. James's! They're painted to the eyes; Their white is stays for ever, Their red it never dies; But Phyllida, my Phillida! Her colour comes and goes; It trembles to a lily,-- It wavers to a rose.
For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee Which bore my Love away I'le seek him in your Bonnet brave, I'le seek him in your eyes.
Therefore doth heaven divide The state of man in divers functions, Setting endeavor in continual motion; To which is fixed as an aim or butt Obedience; for so work the honeybees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king, and officers of sorts, Where some like magistrates correct at home, Others like merchants venture trade abroad, Others like soldiers armed in their stings Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor, Who, busied in his majesties, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice with his surly hum Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone.
Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight!
The mind of the bigot is like the pupil of the eye; the more light you pour upon it, the more it will contract.
In the country of the blind the one-eyed man is king.
These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward.
I have only one eye,--I have a right to be blind sometimes . . . I really do not see the signal!
He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
An Arab, by his earnest gaze, Has clothed a lovely maid with blushes; A smile within his eyelids plays And into words his longing gushes.
I ask, that I might waken reverence, And bid the cheek be ready with a blush Modest as morning when she coldly eyes The youthful Phoebus, Which is that god in office, guiding men?
I have marked A thousand blushing apparitions To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames In angel whiteness beat away those blushes, And in her eye there hath appeared a fire To burn the errors that these princes hold Against her maiden truth.
His kindled duty kindled her mistrust, That two red fires in both faces blazed. She thought he blushed as knowing Tarquin's lust, And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed; Her earnest eye did make him more amazed.
The ear tends to be lazy, craves the familiar, and is shocked by the unexpected: the eye, on the other hand, tends to be impatient, craves the novel and is bored by repetition.
The eyes are more exact witnesses than the ears.
My skull, my eyes, my nose three times, my jaw, my shoulder, my chest, two fingers, a knee, everything from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. [Listing what body parts he has broken].
My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.
O friends, be men; so act that none may feel Ashamed to meet the eyes of other men. Think each one of this children and his wife, His home, his parents, living yet and dead. For them, the absent ones, I supplicate, And bid you rally here, and scorn to fly.
The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold, Held up their chalices of gold To catch the sunshine and the dew.
Karma has written on George Bush's face. It has sculpted trixoypurine uric acid lines in his brow like music scales with no notes It has painted his face the red of cholesterol blockage It has constricted his right eye.. Time has sculpted Dick Cheney's face. His lip curls with contempt for others. His eyes evade the searchlight of truth. We pray that God give them and all beings mercy.. as God now removes them from an office through which they harm hundreds of millions of other beings.
His friends he loved. His direst earthly foes-- Cats--I believe he did but feign to hate. My hand will miss the insinuated nose, Mine eyes the tail that wagged contempt at Fate.
