Blue Eyes Glowed Quotes

#1. Her blue eyes glowed headlight red into my leafy greens. Those eyes were freaky. #Quote by Jazz Feylynn

#2. This is bad," was all I could manage to say.
"Yeah, I kind of picked up on that too."
"No,I mean really bad. Like, to a level I didn't know badness could reach."
Archer crouched down near the lip of the crater, the flickering blue light playing in his eyes. "It gets worse."
"What,does this put also eat kittens? How much worse can it be? #Quote by Rachel Hawkins

#3. Pigpen earned his name as a joke because the girls fall over themselves to gain his attention. Blonde hair, blue eyes...a late twentysomething version of what I hope to be. #Quote by Katie McGarry

#4. Eyes dripping blue, so much to learn. #Quote by Wallace Stevens

#5. Instead, he came to a skidding, terrified halt on the edge of a huge cliff. Steep sandy slopes fell away barely a mouse-length in front of his paws. Waves crashed at the bottom, and stretching out ahead of him was a heaving expanse of blue-green water. The sun was sinking into it on the horizon, its flames so bright that Brambleclaw had to narrow his eyes against them. The orange fire burned a path like blood across the water, almost reaching the foot of the cliff. #Quote by Erin Hunter

#6. He was even nicer to look at in the sunshine. Raven hair, sky blue eyes, and full lips. Sexy. #Quote by S.C. Wynne

#7. Birds-eye view
Awake the stars 'cause they're all around you
Wide eyes will always brighten the blue
Chase your dreams
And remember me, sweet bravery
'Cause after all those wings will take you up so high
So bid the forest floor goodbye as you race the wind
And take to the sky #Quote by Owl City

#8. So, what can I do?" I asked.
"Annoy?"
I gave him a hurt look.
Justus pulled the tip of his hoodie over his eye and lowered his voice. "It remains to be seen; sometimes it takes years to uncover abilities."
"Maybe I can't do anything."
His blue eyes flashed up to mine. "Learner, we are all gifted. #Quote by Dannika Dark

#9. Sita closed her eyes and breathed into her cupped hands. Before she left, she had remembered to perfume her wrist with Muguet.
The faint odor of that flower, so pure and close to the earth, was comforting. She had planted real lilies of the valley because she liked them so much as a perfume.
Just last fall, before the hard freeze, when she was feeling back to normal, the pips had arrived in a little white box. Her order from a nursery company. She'd put on her deerskin gloves and, on her knees, using a hand trowel, dug a shallow trench along the border of her blue Dwarf iris. Then one by one she'd planted the pips. They looked like shelled acorns, only tinier. "To be planted points upward," said a leaflet in the directions. They came up early in the spring. The tiny spears of their leaves would be showing soon.
Lying there, sleepless, she imaged their white venous roots, a mass of them fastening together, forming new shoots below the earth, unfurling their stiff leaves. She saw herself touching their tiny bells, waxed white, fluted, and breathing the ravishing fragrance they gave off because Louis had absently walked through her border again, dragging his shovel, crushing them with his big, careless feet.
It seemed as though hours of imaginary gardening passed before Mrs. Waldvogel tiptoed in without turning on the light. #Quote by Louise Erdrich

#10. There were two sisters, they went playing,

To see their father's ships come sailing …

And when they came unto the sea-brim

The elder did push the younger in
Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam,

'Til her corpse came to the miller's dam

"But what did he do with her breastbone?

He made him a viol to play on.

What'd he do with her fingers so small?

He made pegs to his viol withall

And what did he do with her nose-ridge?

Unto his viol he made a bridge.

What did he do with her veins so blue?

He made strings to his viol thereto

What did he do with her eyes so bright?

On his viol he set at first light.

What did he do with her tongue so rough?

'Twas the new till and it spoke enough

"Then bespake the treble string,

'O yonder is my father the king.'

Then bespake the second string,

'O yonder sits my mother the queen.'

Then bespake the strings all three,

'Yonder is my sister that drowned me.' #Quote by Sarah J. Maas

#11. I have brought the heather-mixture suit, as the climatic conditions are congenial. To-morrow, if not prevented, I will endeavour to add the brown lounge with the faint green twill.'
'It can't go on - this sort of thing - Jeeves.'
'We must hope for the best, sir.'
'Can't you think of anything to do?'
'I have been giving the matter considerable thought, sir, but so far without success. I am placing three silk shirts - the dove-coloured, the light blue, and the mauve - in the first long drawer, sir.'
'You don't mean to say you can't think of anything, Jeeves?'
'For the moment, sir, no. You will find a dozen handkerchiefs and the tan socks in the upper drawer on the left.' He strapped the suit-case and put it on a chair. 'A curious lady, Miss Rockmetteller, sir.'
'You understate it, Jeeves.'
He gazed meditatively out of the window.
'In many ways, sir, Miss Rockmetteller reminds me of an aunt of mine who resides in the south-east portion of London. Their temperaments are much alike. My aunt has the same taste for the pleasures of the great city. It is a passion with her to ride in taxi-cabs, sir. Whenever the family take their eyes off her she escapes from the house and spends the day riding about in cabs. On several occasions she has broken into the children's savings bank to secure the means to enable her to gratify this desire.'
'I love to have these little chats with you about your female relatives, Jeeves,' I said coldly, for #Quote by P.G. Wodehouse

#12. His eyes were light brown. They were light brown in the way that a rose is red, or that the sky is blue. They defined what it meant to be light brown. #Quote by Gail Honeyman

#13. Added to their loveliness was a new mysterious suffering, perfectly silent, visible in the blue puffiness beneath their eyes or the way they would sometimes stop in mid-stride, look down, and shake their heads as though disagreeing with life. #Quote by Jeffrey Eugenides

#14. But the woman came to her them. The woman with hair of red like roses, hair of white like snowfall. She was young and old. She was blind and could see everything. She spoke softly, in whispers, but her voice carried across the mountain ranges like sleeping giants, the cities lit like fairies and the oceans-undulating mermaids. She laughed at her own sorrow and wept pearls at weddings. Her fingers were branches and her eyes were little blue planets. She said, You cannot hide forever, though you may try. I've seen you in the kitchen, in the garden. I've seen the things you have sewn -curtains of dawn, twilight blankets and dresses for the sisters like a garden of stars. I have heard the stories you tell. You are the one who transforms, who creates. You will go out into the world and show others. They will feel less alone because of you, they will feel understood, unburdened by you, awakened by you, freed of guilt and shame and sorrow. But to share with them you must wear shoes, you must go out you must not hide, you must dance and it will be harder, you must face jealousy and sometimes rage and desire and love which can hurt most of all because of what can then be taken away. #Quote by Francesca Lia Block

#15. I'm certain, but my certainty is a lie.
To be certain is to not be seeing.
The day after tomorrow doesn't exist.
This is what exists:
A blue sky that's a bit hazy and some white clouds on the
horizon,
With a dark smudge underneath, as if they might turn black.
This is what today is,
And since for the time being today is everything, this is
everything.
I might be dead - who knows? - the day after tomorrow,
In which case the storm that will strike the day after
tomorrow
Will be a different storm than it would be if I hadn't died.
I realize that the storm doesn't fall from my eyes,
But if I'm no longer in this world, the world will be
different -
There will be one person less -
And the storm, falling in a different world, won't be the
same storm.
In any case, the storm that's going to fall will be the one
falling when it falls.

10 JULY 1930 #Quote by Fernando Pessoa

#16. What are you doing here?" he questioned, noting her harried appearance. Wild strands of chestnut hair had escaped her sever chignon and her blue dress was gray with dust.
"What am I doing here? The question is, what are you doing here? And where's Willow? Was that her room you just came from?"
Before he could answer, Miriam's eyes suddenly widened. "Good God, what is that?" She pointed at the grinning deer's head.
"That's just Hairy," Rider returned impatiently, "and,yes,that was Willow's room. #Quote by Charlotte McPherren

#17. Looking up, I stare into the most unique and beautiful shade of blue that a pair of eyes has ever possessed. Of that I am certain. Blue just shouldn't be that multi-faceted and twinkling. There should be a law or something.
Or at least a warning label:
Caution, these eyes may cause female knees to tremble.
Looking up, I stare into the most unique and beautiful shade of blue that a pair of eyes has ever possessed. Of that I am certain. Blue just shouldn't be that multi-faceted and twinkling. There should be a law or something.
Or at least a warning label:
Caution, these eyes may cause female knees to tremble.
Before I can help it, I scan the rest of him. Sweet Mary. This guy had lucked out in the gene department. Tall, slender, beautiful. Honey colored hair that had natural highlights that could even catch the crappy airport light, broad shoulders, slim hips, long legs. He is tan and golden with a bright, white smile.
I am surely staring at Apollo, the god of the sun. #Quote by Courtney Cole

#18. All I could see were Will's intense blue eyes, and the joy that flashed across them as they flickered down to the low neckline of my gown. All I could hear was the deep, reverent rumble of his voice as he repeated his vow to honor, and cherish, and love me for the rest of our lives. And all I could feel was the juxtaposition of cool metal and warm skin as he slid the ring on my finger. It was all I could process . . . until he kissed me, that is. Because that kiss erased everything that came before it. You may now kiss your bride. The world fell away. It really did. It was just us in that tiny spot of land, standing in silence and staring at each other, on the verge of sealing this commitment we'd made. I couldn't stop smiling. #Quote by Christina Lauren

#19. Aside from my little girl, life had never gifted me anything so beautiful. I knew every inch of her golden skin, had drowned in the icy-blue pools of her eyes, and basked in her warmth. I'd pulled every sweet sip from her lips. We'd become magnetic and inseparable and I let it happen in my selfish haze knowing it would rip us to shreds to lose it.
She was my golden shore after the shipwreck that was my life and she'd loved me with her whole heart, only to let me break it. #Quote by Kate Stewart

#20. He had not moved.

But, her blue eyes on his face, she did not rise.

'Lord, is there nothing in the cup for me?
While you were drinking, I was singing to you.'

The detachment had gone from his face, but not the strength. He shook his head; and rising, Marthe turned and walked from the room. #Quote by Dorothy Dunnett

#21. I'll find out who's inside. Wait here and keep alert!' Hallam rasped. He skirted the main path to skulk towards one of the shuttered windows on the building's eastern wall. There was a crack in the wood and he gently inched closer to peer inside.
There was a hearth-fire with a pot bubbling away and a battered table made of a length of wood over two pieces of cut timber. A small ham hung from the rafters, away from the rats and mice. He couldn't see anyone but there was a murmur of voices. Hallam leaned in even closer and a young boy with hair the colour of straw saw the movement to stare. It was Little Jim. Thank God, the child was safe. Snot hung from his nose and he was pale. Hallam put a finger to his lips, but the boy, not even four, did not understand, and just gaped innocently back.
Movement near the window. A man wearing a blue jacket took up a stone bottle and wiped his long flowing moustache afterwards. His hair was shoulder-length, falling unruly over the red collar of his jacket. Tied around his neck was a filthy red neckerchief. A woman moaned and the man grinned with tobacco stained teeth at the sound. Laughter and French voices. The woman whimpered and Little Jim turned to watch unseen figures. His eyes glistened and his bottom lip dropped. The woman began to plead and Hallam instinctively growled.
The Frenchman, hearing the noise, pushed the shutter open and the pistol's cold muzzle pressed against his forehead.
Hallam watched the man's eye #Quote by David Cook

#22. He'd been young when he'd been turned, maybe late twenties. He looked tough, sinewy and strong, with close cropped sable hair and a sinfully full mouth. Yes, beautiful. Stunning, in fact.
He stared at Luna with hunger in the depths of his ice blue eyes. Even looking worn and underfed, the vampire radiated a wild danger that sent a thrill through her entire body.

What the hell! Shocked and angry with her irritatingly female reaction, she glared at the offending vampire, not bothering to disguise her loathing. Who was this freaking leech, and what was he doing to her?

- Lunacy and the Vampire by Evie Jayne #Quote by Evie Jayne

#23. Teenage boys fall in love with girls who have blond hair and blue eyes. Basketball coaches fall in love with players who have a cerebral court sense and a great jump shot. #Quote by John Feinstein

#24. Lady Katsa, is it?"
"Yes, Lord Prince."
"I've heard you have one eye green as the Middluns grasses, and the other eye blue as the sky."
"Yes, Lord Prince."
"I've heard you can kill a man with the nail of your smallest finger."
She smiled. "Yes, Lord Prince."
"Does it make it easier?"
"I don't understand you."
"To have beautiful eyes. Does it lighten the burden of your Grace, to know you have beautiful eyes? #Quote by Kristin Cashore

#25. Her eyes burnt like the blue in a gas flame. They were ferocious things. For some moments her eyes were all he was aware of. And they were looking at him. But there was no look in them. It was as if she were just drinking him up. Was she assessing him? Judging him? He didn't know. Maybe it was this sureness that made him both resentful and unsure. #Quote by Richard Flanagan

#26. To fill the days up of his dateless year
Flame from Queen Helen to Queen Guenevere?
For first of all the sphery signs whereby
Love severs light from darkness, and most high,
In the white front of January there glows
The rose-red sign of Helen like a rose:
And gold-eyed as the shore-flower shelterless
Whereon the sharp-breathed sea blows bitterness,
A storm-star that the seafarers of love
Strain their wind-wearied eyes for glimpses of,
Shoots keen through February's grey frost and damp
The lamplike star of Hero for a lamp;
The star that Marlowe sang into our skies
With mouth of gold, and morning in his eyes;
And in clear March across the rough blue sea
The signal sapphire of Alcyone
Makes bright the blown bross of the wind-foot year;
And shining like a sunbeam-smitten tear
Full ere it fall, the fair next sign in sight
Burns opal-wise with April-coloured light
When air is quick with song and rain and flame,
My birth-month star that in love's heaven hath name
Iseult, a light of blossom and beam and shower,
My singing sign that makes the song-tree flower;
Next like a pale and burning pearl beyond
The rose-white sphere of flower-named Rosamond
Signs the sweet head of Maytime; and for June
Flares like an angered and storm-reddening moon
Her signal sphere, whose Carthaginian pyre
Shadowed her traitor's flying sail with fire;
Next, glit #Quote by Algernon Charles Swinburne

#27. Alec's eyes glittered for a moment, bright blue under coal-black lashes. He stood up and came over to where Clary was standing by the door. "Wise girl," he said.
"You didn't always think I was wise."
"No, I thought you were a pest, but I know better now." He dropped a kiss on top of her head and went out the door, still carrying his tulip. #Quote by Cassandra Clare

#28. I've always loved you," he said, his eyes a blue that was almost violet. "You know this." She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I only wonder whether I deserve such devotion."
"Sometimes people fall in love with those who do not return the same strength of feelings. It is as it is," he said with a quiet intensity. "What I give, I give freely. You owe me nothing, not love, not friendship, not even obligation. #Quote by Sherry Thomas

#29. A SINGULAR MOMENT. One that changes everyone and everything, and you can't go back. For me, it was the moment I fell in love. The moment I knew that the soul staring at me through magnificent, pain-filled blue eyes was the one I wanted to connect with mine for the rest of my life. The problem with that was, at that exact same moment, I could see his soul recognize that mine was not the one he wanted. Not ever. #Quote by Laurel Ulen Curtis

#30. Did you have any yourself?" she said.

"Just one."

Harold thought of David, but it was too much to explain. He saw the boy as a toddler and how his face darkened in sunshine like a ripe nut. He wanted to describe the soft dimples of flesh at his knees, and the way he walked in his first pair of shoes, staring down, as if unable to credit they were still attached to his feet. He thought of him lying in hit cot, his fingers so appallingly small and perfect over his wool blanket. You could look at them and fear they might dissolve beneath your touch.

Mothering had come so naturally to Maureen. It was as if another woman had been waiting inside her all along, ready to slip out. She knew how to swing her body so that a baby slept; how to soften her voice; how to curl her hand to support his head. She knew what temperature the water should be in his bath, and when he needed to nap, and how to knit him blue wool socks. He had no idea she knew these things and he had watched with awe, like a spectator from the shadows. It both deepened his love for her and lifted her apart, so that just at the moment when he thought their marriage would intensify, it seemed to lose its way, or at least set them in different places. He peered at his baby son, with his solemn eyes, and felt consumed with fear. What if he was hungry? What if he was unhappy? What if other boys hit him when he went to school? There was so much to protect him from, Harold was overwhelmed. He #Quote by Rachel Joyce

#31. You've won," Jack said softly. He looked at Mimi with such fiery hatred that she almost cowered at his words. But she was no weakling. She was Azrael, and Azrael did not cower, not even to Abbadon.
"I've won nothing," Mimi replied coldly. "Please remember that almost all of the Elders are dead, that the
Dark Prince is ascendant, and what is left of the Conclave is being led by a broken man who used to be the strongest of us all. And yet all you seem to care about, my darling, is that you no longer get to play with your little love toy."
Instead of answering her, Jack flew across the room and slapped her hard across the face, sending her
crashing to the floor. But before he could wield another blow, Mimi leaped up and slammed him against the window, knocking him completely out of breath.
"Is this what you want?" she hissed as she lifted him up by his shirt collar, his face turning a ghastly shade of red.
"Don't let me destroy you," he sneered.
"Just try, my sweet."
Jack twisted out of her grasp and flipped her over, kicking her down the length of the room. She sprung up with her hands clenched, her nails sharp as claws, and fangs bared. They met halfway in the air, and Jack put a hand on her throat and began to squeeze. But she scratched at his eyes and wrenched her body so that she was rolling on top of him, her sword at his throat, with the upper hand.
SUBMIT. Mimi sent.
NEVER. #Quote by Melissa De La Cruz

#32. But when this slip of a girl with trust blazing in her bright blue eyes looked at him, all he could think about was protecting the one piece of the outside world that had found a way in. #Quote by Karen Witemeyer

#33. You have the most beautiful smile," Rio said. His eyes had gone deeply blue, his irises spreading to blot out the white.
"You are putting thoughts into my head again."
"No, darlin'. You're putting them there all by yourself."
"You are making me want to obey you."
"Maybe giving you a little nudge."
Nella wet her lips, which were so dry for some reason. "What exactly would you want me to do?"
Rio came closer, and she could smell the leather of his clothes, the musk of his body, feel the heat of his fingers before he even touched her. "Anything I can think of to make you do." His temperature seemed higher than that of a normal human, as she'd observed before. Humans were actually a little cooler on Bor Narga, she'd learned - an adaptation against living in an extreme desert climate - but Shareem skin was hot. Especially Rio's, especially now.
"And if I refuse to obey? You punish me?"
"Maybe. I'm not like some Doms, who reach for the whip every time their ladies disobey." He leaned to her, his voice velvet smooth, his breath hot spice. "Punishment is so much sweeter when it's begged for."
Nella tried to draw a normal breath and couldn't. She hadn't felt normal since she woke up here. "I would never ask to be punished."
"Beg, I said. And you will." He touched the swirl of hair above her ear. "You will, sweet darling. I guarantee it. #Quote by Allyson James

#34. Hey, baby, how would you like a partner in crime-"
"Back off," Blay barked. "He's with me."
Abruptly Qhuinn's spine straightened: It was amply clear from the cold blue fire spitting out of Blay's eyes that the guy was prepared to tear the throat of that woman wide-open if she didn't disappear quick.
And that was ...
Awesome. #Quote by J.R. Ward

#35. She looked beautiful and very innocent, her vibrant blue eyes wide with what he guessed was shock. Her cheeks were stained pink with more of the nerves she hadn't been able to hide during the ceremony. As for her rosy mouth, her lips were slightly parted and ripe for kissing.
'Mine,' he thought primitively. 'Mine to touch and taste and claim at my leisure. #Quote by Tracy Anne Warren

#36. Before Jesse could say another word, the bedroom door jerked open and Lucie's father stood on the threshold, looking alarmed.
"Lucie?" he said. "Did you call out? I thought I heard you."
Lucie tensed, but the expression in her father's blue eyes didn't change - mild worry mixed with curious puzzlement. He really couldn't see Jesse.
Jesse looked at her and, very irritatingly, shrugged as if to say, I told you so.
"No, Papa," she said. "Everything is all right."
He looked at the manuscript pages scattered all over the rug. "Spot of writer's block, Lulu?"
Jesse raised an eyebrow. Lulu? he mouthed.
Lucie considered whether it was possible to die of humiliation. She did not dare look at Jesse. #Quote by Cassandra Clare

#37. When he came down, he was slower, and clutching something his hand. He leapt down the last 5 feet or so and came over to me, uncurling his fingers. In his palm was something trembling and silky and the bright, delicious pale gold of apples; in the gloom of the jungle it looked like light itself. Uva nudged the thing with a finger and it turned over, and I could see it was a monkey of some sort, though no monkey I had ever seen before; it was only a few inches larger than one of the mice I had once been tasked with killing, and his face was a wrinkled black heart, its features pinched together but its eyes large and as blankly blue as a blind kitten's. It had tiny, perfectly formed hands, one of which was gripping its tail, which it had wrapped around itself and which was flamboyantly furred, its hair hanging like a fringe. #Quote by Hanya Yanagihara

#38. There were pictures on the walls, all of them dime-store prints of Jesus. In all of them Jesus had blue eyes and wore pale blue robes and had long blond hair and a neat blond beard. He looked more like a Malibu surfer than a Jew from two thousand years ago. #Quote by Lee Child