Praise Her Eyes Quotes

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Praise Her Eyes Quotes

Damn, youre good, he said and rolled onto his back. The man wasnt much for flowery speech, Alesandra thought with a smile. It didnt matter. She was arrogantly proud of herself because shed pleased him. Perhaps she should give him a little praise too. She rolled onto her side to face him, put her hand on his chest directly over his pounded heart, and whispered. Youre good, too. Tis the truth, youre the best Ive ever had. He opened his eyes to look at her. Im the only one youve ever had, remember? His voice was gruff with affection. I remember, she said. No other man is ever going to touch you, Alesandra. Youre mine.
— Julie Garwood —

Creation and destruction are one, to the eyes who can see beauty.
And the greatest praise to India is this: not only are her people beautiful; not only are her daily life and cult beautiful; but, in the midst of the utilitarian, humanitarian, dogmatic world of the present day, she keeps on proclaiming the outstanding value of Beauty for the sake of Beauty, through her very conception of Godhead, of religion and of life.

— Savitri Devi

Yes, he is here in this
open field, in sunlight, among
the few young trees set out
to modify the bare facts
he's here, but only
because we are here.
When we go, he goes with us
to be your hands that never
do violence, your eyes
that wonder, your lives
that daily praise life
by living it, by laughter.
He is never alone here,
never cold in the field of graves.

— Denise Levertov

We've dug our holes and hallowed caves Put goblin foes in shallow graves This day our work is just begun In the mines where silver rivers run
Beneath the stone the metal gleams Torches shine on silver streams Beyond the eyes of he spying sun In the mines where silver rivers run
The hammers chime on Mithral pure As dwarven mines in days of yore A craftsman's work is never done In the mines where silver rivers run
To dwarven gods we sing or praise Put another orc in a shallow grave We know our work has just began In the mines where silver rivers run

— R.A. Salvatore

I would like to have seen the world with eyes incapable of anything but wonder, and with a tongue fluent only in praise.

— Pat Conroy

Closer of lovely eyes to lovely dreams,
Lover of loneliness, and wandering,
Of upcast eye, and tender pondering!
Thee must I praise above all other glories
That smile us on to tell delightful stories.

— John Keats

For a moment, the color leeched from his face, then he blinked and smiled. Margaret, for a second I thought it was your mama standing there. He gave a gruff laugh. You look lovely, my dear.
Her father's praise brought tears to her eyes. His approving words came far too infrequently. Was her appearance all that mattered to him-to anyone? It seemed to be the way of the world. No one cared about who she was on the inside. No one saw the heart longing to be loved and to love in return. She sometimes even doubted God's love for her.

— Colleen Coble

There are no minarets built in praise of
what doubters say, no passionate talk about their lives.
The coin faces of officials
keep changing, but not the flame-tongued book of the sun. Be plain as day and a friend to what
lasts. Cynics say the same thing over and over, "I only know what I see." Every external form is
a text to study, embodying a truth, the way medicine contains healing. Does a painter paint
for the sake of the picture and not for the eyes of those who will look at it?

— Rumi

For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

— William Shakespeare

The praise that comes of love does not make us vain, but humble rather. Knowing what we are, the pride that shines in our mother's eyes as she looks at us is about the most pathetic thing a man has to face, but he would be a devil altogether if it did not burn some of the sin out of him.

— James M. Barrie

Lady, the sun's light to our eyes is dear, And fair the tranquil reaches of the sea, And flowery earth in May, and bounding waters; And so right many fair things I might praise; Yet nothing is so radiant and so fair As for souls childless, with desire sore-smitten, To see the light of babes about the house.

— Euripides

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