He took both of my hands, twisting to face me more fully on the flattened box beneath us, and again the colors… — Rachel Vincent Copy Share Image
Tiny gold sparks flared in his irises. "You're in my rooms in my bathtub naked and you're still mouthing off." Did he… — Ilona Andrews Copy Share Image
Now people look at 'The Scream' or Van Gogh's 'Irises' or a Picasso and see its new content: money. Auction houses inherently… — Jerry Saltz Copy Share Image
It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
[Iris] squeezed his hand. "Don't lose hope, Frank. Rainbows always stand for hope. — Rick Riordan Copy Share Image
Constancy will always be the genius of love, the indication of that strength which constitutes the poet. A man should possess all… — Honore de Balzac Copy Share Image
Will’s eyes met Tessa’s as she came closer, almost tripping again over the torn hem of her gown. For a moment, they… — Cassandra Clare Copy Share Image
Twisting and wiring and stringing starching and curling, delicately painting spots and shadings on scraps of silk until what had been nothing… — Melanie McGrath Copy Share Image
Must you know that yours will be the “better” picture before you pick up the brush and paint? Can it not simply… — Neale Donald Walsch Copy Share Image
He stepped toward her, and her heart just ached from it. His face was so handsome, and so dear, and so perfectly… — Julia Quinn Copy Share Image
You could slap his wrist for saying it, but then he said it with his face, and you could spank him for… — Jonathan Franzen Copy Share Image
People in my hometown seldom called me piao liang, [beautiful] because my smaller eyes were a far cry from the wide irises… — Liu Wen Copy Share Image
The immaterial blue colour shown at Iris Clert's in April had in short made me inhuman, had excluded me from the world… — Yves Klein Copy Share Image
In a swamp, as in meditation, you begin to glimpse how elusive, how inherently insubstantial, how fleeting our thoughts are, our identities.… — Barbara Hurd Copy Share Image
Finer than any sand are dusts of gold that gleam, Vague starpoints, in the mystic iris of their eyes. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
I sometimes used to ask myself, what on earth did I love her for? Maybe fore the warm hazel iris of her… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as… — F. Scott Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as… — F. Scott Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
In the '80s, I loved the movies of the '70s. Also I remember loving Klute [1971]. I loved Jane Fonda. Actually, I… — Winona Ryder Copy Share Image
The world has different owners at sunrise... Even your own garden does not belong to you. Rabbits and blackbirds have the lawns;… — Anne Morrow Lindbergh Copy Share Image
What in your life is calling you, When all the noise is silenced, The meetings adjourned... The lists laid aside, And the… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Imagine someone pointing to a place in the iris of a Rembrandt eye and saying, 'The walls of my room should be… — Ludwig Wittgenstein Copy Share Image
And that's when Anna realized that what the wolf had been asking Bran for was death. Impulsively, Anna stepped away from Charles.… — Patricia Briggs Copy Share Image
There's smoke in my iris, but I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids — Aesop Rock Copy Share Image