Angel Eyes Quotes & Sayings

Have you thought about retiring early?" "I've thought about it. I would lose a fair amount of my pension if I did. Besides, what would I do with myself?" "You could work for me." "Work ... as a ranch hand?" She laughed, genuinely amused by the image of herself in a cowboy hat cutting cattle that popped into her head. "I can't even walk in the snow without help." He glared at her. "You're a fantastic rider." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you truly offering me a job?" He stopped shoveling, rested on the hay fork, gave her a lopsided grin. "I would if it would keep you around." Something about that felt more romantic to her than a dozen red roses. "Jack West, you are a charming man." "Me?" He shook his head, got back to shoveling. "I think you need to look that word up in the dictionary, angel. — Pamela Clare

All three men looked at the woman in the doorway, but they all saw different things.
Alex saw a rather attractive young lady with a remarkable air of vitality in her silver eyes.
John saw the woman he'd come to like and admire tremendously this past week, looking rather fetching and grown-up in her new gown and coiffure.
Dunford saw an angel. — Julia Quinn

I know you told me you'd wait for me, but I don't want either of us to wait anymore. Especially when I knew from the first moment I saw you that you were special. I feel like I've been running my whole life, speeding from small town into a big city, jumping from one place to the next for years until they all blurred together. And right when I decided it was time to finally stop running and set down some roots, there you were. My new beginning." Her eyes filled with tears as she smiled up at him and slid her arms around his neck to pull him closer. "My love."
Jack sank down onto the couch with Mary, her curves soft beneath his muscles. "I'll always be yours, Angel. Forever. — Bella Andre

And there in front of her was Julian, his eyes and ears closed to anything but Livvy, her body cradled against his. She seemed a drift of fragile ash or snow, something impermanent that had blown into his arms accidentally: the petal of a faerie flower, the white feather of an angel's wing. The dream of a little girl, the memory of a sister reaching up her arms: Julian, Julian, carry me. — Cassandra Clare

I was terrified of what might have happened to you," I choked out.
"I was terrified thinking the same about you."
"The devilcraft-" I began.
Patch exhaled beneath me, and my body dipped with his. His breath carried relief and raw emotion. His eyes, stripped of everything but sincerity, found mine. "My skin can be replaced. But you can't, Angel. When Dante left, I thought it was over. I thought I'd failed you. I've never prayed so hard in my life. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I once read that you die because you see the Angel of Death, and you fall in love. And you fall in love so hard your soul is sucked out through your eyes, and that's the moment of death. It's a lovely, strange old Jewish legend. — Neil Gaiman

Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"You told me once that you loved me because I was human," I said, my voice tiny. "Will you still
love me when I'm an angel? Even if I won't be human anymore?"
"Always," he said, green eyes bright. "Even if you stop loving me."
I felt myself begin to crumble and I left the armory and him sitting on the — Courtney Allison Moulton

Clary shut her eyes. You didn't say no to an angel, no matter what it had in mind. Her heart pounding, she sat floating in the darkness behind her eyelids, resolutely trying not to think of Jace. But his face appear against the blank screen of her closed eyelids anyway - not smiling at her but looking sidelong, and she could see the scar at his temple, the uneven curl at the corner of his mouth, and the silver line on his throat where Simon had bitten him - all the marks and flaws and imperfections that made up the person she loved most in the world. Jace. A bright light lit her vision to scarlet, and she fell back against the sand, wondering if she was going to pass out - or maybe she was dying - but she didn't want to die, not now that she could see Jace's face so clearly in front of her. She could almost hear his voice, too, saying her name, the way he'd whispered it at Renwick's, over and over again. Clary. Clary. Clary.
"Clary," Jace said. "Open your eyes. — Cassandra Clare

It's a great story for us whenever an entrepreneur makes a crazy amount of money and we get to tell the world about it. For the entrepreneur? Not so much. Hitherto unknown relatives, entrepreneurs seeking angel investments, money managers and supposed baby-mamas all come out of the woodwork with dollar signs in their eyes. — Sarah Lacy

11But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am." 12He said, p "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for q now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me." 13And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in a thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. 14So Abraham called the name of that place, r "The LORD will provide"; [2] as it is said to this day, "On the mount of the LORD it shall be provided. — Anonymous

He turned to leave when arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, stalling him. Sighing, he closed his eyes, taking a moment to savor her touch. "Angel."
"Luce."
He pulled her into his arms as he whispered, "I love you."
"I love you, too." Serah said, clinging to him. "When I opened my eyes, I didn't want to be here, because I didn't think you'd be here. I thought you'd be down there again, back in the pit, and I'd take an eternity in your Hell before I took a single second in my Heaven without you. — J.M. Darhower

Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes had called him and his soul had leaped at the call. To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life! A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory. On and on and on and on! — James Joyce

One piece at a time,' the angel hissed, dangling something papery and drenched in dark liquid over Hank's whirling vision.
Hank felt his eyes widen. His skin! — Becca Fitzpatrick

Jaime Cortae. Thirteen. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Lover of peanut butter. Sometime angel, sometime mischief maker. Always Jaime. — Kat Zhang

Evolution was far more thrilling to me than the biblical account. Who would not rather be a rising ape than a falling angel? To my juvenile eyes, Darwin was proved true every day. It doesn't take much to make us flip back into monkeys again. — Terry Pratchett

Death continues to stalk the streets, stealing the souls of our children as they sleep. We're running out of fingers to close their eyes, voices to bless their souls, hands to dig their graves. Poisonous fumes from their unburied bodies contaminate the alleys, and the ghosts of those who have been buried rise nightly. Their tiny forms dance above their tombstones, an agonising reminder that we've failed them. — Joanne Owen

If it makes you feel better, I don't feed on humans." For some reason, it did make her feel better to hear him say that. not that she believed it. But still, it was a little reassuring. "So, you're like Angel? He rolled his eyes at her. "You watch way too much television," he muttered. Then louder, he said, "Angel has a soul. I don't. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

When the angel spoke, God awoke in the heart of this girl of Nazareth and moved within her like a giant. He stirred and opened His eyes and her soul and saw that in containing Him she contained the world besides. The Annunciation was not so much a vision as an earthquake in which God moved the universe and unsettled the spheres, and the beginning and end of all things came before her in her deepest heart. And far beneath the movement of this silent cataclysm she slept in the infinite tranquility of God, and God was a child curled up who slept in her and her veins were flooded with His wisdom which is night, which is starlight, which is silence. And her whole being was embraced in Him whom she embraced and they became tremendous silence." -Thomas Merton — Thomas Merton

Praise the world to the angel, not what can't be talked about.
You can't impress him with your grand emotions. In the grand cosmos
where he so intensely feels, you're just a novice. So show
him some simple thing shaped for generation after generation
until it lives in our hands and in our eyes, and it's ours.
Tell him about things. He'll stand amazed, just as you did
beside the ropemaker in Rome or the potter on the Nile.
Show him how happy a thing can be, how innocent and ours;
how even grief's lament purely determines its own shape,
serves as a thing, or dies in a thing - and escapes
In ecstasy beyond the violin. — Rainer Maria Rilke

He looked like the devil. His skin ruddy, his eyes a glowing yellow. Jet black hair slicked back on his head hung to his shoulders. But the demons didn't call him Devil, or Satan, or even Lucifer. They called him ...
Azazel. — Michelle K. Pickett

One second, we are surrounded by angels holding their swords. The next second, one of their arms drops and his sword thunks to the grass like a lead weight. The angel stares at his blade uncomprehendingly.
Another sword drops.
Then another.
Then a whole bunch, until all the other unsheathed swords fall, thudding on the grass like subjects bowing down to their queen.
The angels stare at the swords at their feet in utter shock.
Then everyone looks at me. Actually, it's probably more accurate to say they're looking at my sword.
"Whoa." That's about the most intelligent thing I can say right now. Did Raffe say something about an archangel sword intimidating other angel swords if she could gain their respect?
I swivel my eyes to look at the blade in my hands. Was that you, Pooky Bear? — Susan Ee

You can dance.
You can make me laugh.
You've got x-ray eyes.

You know how to sing.
You're a diplomat.
You've got it all.
Everybody loves you.

You can charm the birds out of the sky, But I, I've got
one thing.

You always know just what to say
And when to go,
But I've got one thing.

You can see in the dark,
But I've got one thing:
I loved you better.

Last night I woke up,
Saw this angel.
He flew in my window.
And he said,
Girl, pretty proud of yourself, huh?" And I looked around and said,
Who me?"
And he said, "The higher you fly, the faster you fall."

He said, "Send it up.
Watch it rise.
See it fall,
Gravity's rainbow.
Send it up.
Watch it rise.
See it fall,
Gravity's Angel. — Laurie Anderson

You see, I know you, Violet. You've tormented me in my dreams with your body too many times to count. Now you're here in the flesh, with your ripe curves and innocent eyes, an angel hidden in the body of a temptress. — Rose Wynters

I love you." The words were a curse, harsh and punishing. "I can't change it and I don't want to. You're it for me." Angelo's body shook between Gabe's legs. "I gave you my heart in that fucking interrogation room, cop, yet you've been holding yours hostage from me."
He pulled his head back, eyes over-bright, lips red and swollen. "I want those words. I deserve those words." His voice wobbled and broke. "I demand those words. I need them. — Avril Ashton

With tears and prayers and tender hands, Mother and sisters made her ready for the long sleep that pain would never mar again, seeing with grateful eyes the beautiful serenity that soon replaced the pathetic patience that had wrung their hearts so long, and feeling with reverent joy that to their darling death was a benignant angel, not a phantom full of dread. — Louisa May Alcott

A person will struggle - she'll fight. She'll do just about anything to avoid making a decision she knows she has to make. We have got to be the most perverse creatures on the planet. Something in the human enjoys misery. It keeps us locked away, some in a mansion, some in a hovel. But then, one day - a day you don't plan, an hour you don't expect - the door opens. You have what you need, or you receive your answer. It's so obvious, and so right, and you even have the wherewithal to carry out what you need to carry out. A big angel with flaming eyes and burnished hair might as well have walked through the wall . . . — Donna Salli

In the long second before everyone absorbs what just happened, I see the angel rolling his eyes heavenward, like a teenager in the presence of overwhelming lameness. Some people just have no sense of gratitude. — Susan Ee

Yeah, and so Max and Dylan are supposed to, like, go to Germany and have kids together," I heard Gazzy say.
My eyes popped open and I bolted upright.
"What?" Fang said, his voice icy.
"Gazzy!" I yelled.
Wide blue eyes looked at me in surprise, then back at Fang's stoic face. "Oh. Was I not supposed to say anything?" Gazzy asked. — James Patterson

His eyes lit up again. "Kota was right about you."
I tilted my head at him. "What did he say?"
"He said there's this beautiful angel who has her heart on her sleeve and we have to keep her safe. — C.L.Stone

Eyes of blue and hair of fire
Are the keys to your desire.
Angel's voice and will of steel
Shall force the dark witch to kneel.
Death to bind and bind to break
Sun and moon for all our sake.
Prince of night, daughter of day,
Bound as one the witch they'll slay.
Same hour they their first breath drew,
On her last, the witch will rue.
Join the two named in this verse
And see the end of the curse. — Danielle L. Jensen

From out of nowhere, she had an image of some poor human in a FedEx Office branch getting an eyeful and a half of the mostly naked fallen angel.
Without warning, she started to laugh so hard, tears came to her eyes. The good kind of tears, that was.
And as she gave herself up to the angel's ridiculousness, Lass just say there on the couch, staring up at "Melrose Place", a sly, quiet smile on his beautiful, deranged face.
What an angel he was, she thought to herself. A total angel. — J.R. Ward

I know that my work in this case is magnified by the fact that the streets of heaven are too crowded with angels. We know their names. They number a thousand for each one of the red ribbons that we wear here tonight. They finally rest in the warm embrace of the gracious creator of us all, a healing embrace that cools their fevers, that clears their skin, and allows their eyes to see the simple, self-evident commonsense truth that is made manifest by the benevolent creator of us all. — Tom Hanks

Pale hair fell in waves to his shoulders, framing a face mortal females considered a sensual feast. They didn't know the man was actually a devil in angel's skin. They should have, though. He practically glowed with irreverence, and there was an unholy gleam in his green eyes that proclaimed he would laugh in your face while cutting out your heat. Or laugh in your face while you cut out his heart. — Gena Showalter

He was sound asleep, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the blessed fire blazing, an empty bottle of wine by his side. He hadn't been shaved recently, and he looked rumpled, dissolute and beautiful. Like
a fallen angel. She moved to stand in front of him and pointed the pistol directly at his heart.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, and then he opened his extraordinary eyes. "It's always
unwise to shoot the man you're in love with. — Anne Stuart

She mounted the steps and took hold of the heavydoor knocker. It was shaped like a pair of angel's wings, and when she let it fall, she could hear the sound of echoing like the tolling of a huge bell. A moment later the door was yanked open, and Isabelle Lightwood stood on the threshlod, her eyes wide with shock.
"Clary?"
Clary smiled weakly. "Hi Isabelle."
Isabelle leaned against the doorjamb, her expression dismal. "Oh, crap. — Cassandra Clare

I don't have a car."
His eyes sliced into mine.
"I walked here," I explained. "I'm on foot."
"Angel," he said in a way that sounded like he sincerely hoped I was joking. — Becca Fitzpatrick

The angel of God, having secretly
Betrothed us one winter day,
Watches over our carefree lives
With fixed, darkening eyes
Because of this we love the sky,
Keen air, the fresh wind
And the blackening branches
Behind the iron fence.
Because of this we love the stern
Dark city with its many waterways.
And we love our partings,
And our brief meetings. — Anna Akhmatova

As was the case in Requiem for a Dream, Pollock, A Beautiful Mind, House of Sand and Fog, The Hulk and Dark Water, Jennifer Connelly's mere presence in a film guarantees that things will turn out badly for the male lead, as Connelly is always cast as the Angel of Death. Fun to hang out with, great eyes, amazing eyebrows, but the Angel of Death. — Joe Queenan

I've seen enough death."
A single angel rose in the darkness from the circle they'd formed around the Qayom Malak. "If she can't do it, she can't do it."
"Shut up, Cam," Arriane said. "Sit down.
Cam stepped forward, approaching Luce. His narrow frame cast its shadow across the Slab. "We've taken it this far. You can't say we haven't given it every kind of shot." He turned to face the others. "But maybe she just can't. There is only so much you can ask a person to do. She wouldn't be the first filly anybody lost a fortune on. So what if she happens to be the last?"
His tone did not match his words, and neither did his eyes, which said with desperate sincerity, You can do this. You have to. — Lauren Kate

Wehehehehell, if it isn't Ollie-Ollie-oxidant-free ... "
You can take ... all the tea in China ... put it in a big brown ... bag for me.
He's as sweet as tupelo honey; he's an angel of the first degree.
Men with insight ... men in granite ... knights in armor bent on ... chivalry.
He's as sweet as ... tupelo honey; just like honey, baby ... from the bee."
=> For those who read and liked "When Irish eyes are sparkling"
Can i have a musician here? — Tom Collins

On the first day of fifth grade, Liz was sitting on the swing beside Liam's at recess. Falling and flying, her hair fanned out behind her and her eyes were closed, and that was what had caught his attention, her closed eyes. She looked a little bit silly and very much alive, and Liam couldn't stop watching.

Liz, on her part, was aware that the boy beside her was watching, but she loved swinging too much to care what he thought. She loved the wind hitting her face and the brief moment of suspension at the top of the arc and the falling sensation that was magnified by the darkness of her eyelids. She imagined that she was a bird, an angel, a wayward star.

At the height of the arc, she let go. And she flew.

Liam watched with his mouth hanging wide open, expecting her to crumple on the asphalt and die tragically before his eyes.

She didn't, and when she walked away, Liam's heart followed. — Amy Zhang

The sun's rays have vision and give us vision. However, it is the birds eyes and the two invisible angels by your side that record everything. Nothing goes unnoticed throughout the universe. Wherever there is a vibration, there are eyes and ears. Some energies don't need ears or vision to see or hear, they can feel what is in your heart and tap into all your sins and fears. — Suzy Kassem

As we dried off, Judd demanded, "Say you're mine."
The dark look in Judd's eyes was intense. The angry tension in his expression made me feel like someone had doubted his right to me and he was proving them wrong.
"I'm yours forever."
"I won't let you go. Even if you want to leave, I won't be able to let you leave."
"Wait, are you threatening me?" I asked, squinting at him.
"I'm threatening the guy who tries to take you away."
"What's he like?" I teased, stepping away from his curious fingers. "How does he woo me from my man?"
"Who cares? He'll be dead before he touches you."
"Because I'm yours?" I said, backing up towards the bed. "Because I'll always be yours?"
Watching me slide under the covers and hold them up for him, Judd gave me a soft smile. "You really are my angel."
"And you'll always be my knight. — Bijou Hunter

A pure soul is like a fine pearl. As long as it is hidden in the shell, at the bottom of the sea, no one thinks of admiring it. But if you bring it into the sunshine, this pearl will shine and attract all eyes. Thus the pure soul, which is hidden from the eyes of the world, will one day shine before the Angels in the sunshine of eternity. — John Vianney

For that was love, wasnt it
to burn bright in someone else's eyes? — Cassandra Clare

Be ever more convinced that your guardian angel is really present, that he is ever at your side. St. Frances of Rome always saw him standing before her, his arms clasped at his breast, his eyes uplifted to Heaven; but at the slightest failing, he would cover his face as if in shame, and at times, turn his back to her. — John Bosco

He softened and looked at me. "Oh, yeah, I met the right man, all right. A fucking miracle. An angel here on earth." His voice was soft as cotton and his eyes shone like diamonds. What could I say to that? — T.A. Webb

I am death. My touch brings it. Where Kat Forrest was a tanned, lovely, blond-haired princess of life, I was a dark-haired, pale-skinned angel of death. Her green eyes represented life; my bluer ones represented winter and the end of that life. Worse — Robert J. Crane

Why are you here, Eduardo?' Dom persisted.
The Angel's face creased and showed signs of the broken man Dom had known yesterday. It passed and was replaced by a slight narrowing of the eyes. Sparks. Dom realised that something had shifted. Not physically perhaps, but emotionally. Eduardo's eyes grew darker with every moment. Angry Angel. Dominic wasn't just another person to protect anymore. — Lynnette Lounsbury

Bringing the very heavens close enough to touch.
It was Zsadist.
His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang.
The scarred one, the souless one, had the voice of an angel. — J.R. Ward

Clary hesitated - only for a moment, but the moment stretched out as long as any moment ever had. She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything. - an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps those things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would have already been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.
It didn't matter, anyway. There was only one thing she could ask for, in he end, only one real choice.
She raised her eyes to the Angel's.
Jace. — Cassandra Clare

I wanted to tell Ren the truth. I wanted to say that he was the best friend I'd ever had. That I was sorry about the way I had treated him. I wanted to tell him ... that I loved him. But I couldn't say anything. My throat was closed up, probably swollen from snake venom. All I could do was look at him as he knelt over me.
That's okay. Looking at his gorgeous face one last time is enough for me. I'll die a happy woman.
I was so tired. My eyelids were too heavy to keep open. I closed my eyes and waited for death to come. Ren cleared a space and sat down near me. Pillowing my head on his arm, he pulled me onto his lap and into his arms. I smiled.
Even better. I can't open my eyes to see him anymore, but I can feel his arms around me. My warrior angel can carry me in his arms up to heaven.
He squeezed my closer to his body and whispered something in my ear that I couldn't make out. Then darkness overtook me. — Colleen Houck

A demon seduced an angel in the middle of the night
and they gave the stars a glimpse.
There was nothing casual about it,
it was tender skin and battle scars
breathless passion under storm clouds
a rapid river stream mirroring the moon light.
Until one day, he left her with nothing,
just a bruised heart and carved memories
iridescent wings chipped on the edges
heat under her skin, like an ember burning low.
I asked her, "What do you do after a love like that?"
She laughed.
And madness danced behind her eyes.
But she flew so high the world was jealous. — M.J. Abraham

Our devil has pale skin and blue eyes — Jose Angel Gutierrez

I'm leaving." Her cold lips barely moved as she mouthed the words.
Horror fisted around his vitals. "No."
For the first time she met his eyes. Hers were red-rimmed but dry. "I have to leave,
Simon."
"No." He was a little boy denied a sweet. He felt like falling down and screaming.
"Let me go."
"I can't let you go." He half laughed here in the too-bright, cold London sun before his own
house. "I'll die if I do."
She closed her eyes. "No, you won't. I can't stay and watch you tear yourself apart."
"Lucy."
"Let me go, Simon. Please." She opened her eyes, and he saw infinite pain in her gaze.
Had he done this to his angel? Oh, God. He unclasped his hands. — Elizabeth Hoyt

What a man pays for bread and butter is worth its market value, and no more. What he pays for love's sake is gold indeed, which has a lure for angels' eyes, and rings well upon God's touchstone. — James Russell Lowell

A man's truest self realizations might require him, above all, to learn to close his eyes: to let himself be taken unawares, to follow his dark angel, to risk his illegal instincts. — Jean Cocteau

He stroked her pale cheek with his thumb, willing her to open those dark gypsy eyes he loved so much. He needed her impish gaze, her light laughter and intoxicating touch. He needed everything about her. She'd made him feel more alive than when he was human. Needing her kiss as much as he needed blood to survive, he pressed his lips to hers. "I beg of you, wake. Please, my precious Angel," he prayed as he held her in his arms. "Wake so I can tell you how sorry I am, and how much I love you. God, I love you." He couldn't say the words enough. "I love you. I love you." He repeated the litany over and over again until exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep, still clinging to her with a vow never to let her go again. — Brooklyn Ann

'Tis sorrow builds the shining ladder up, Whose golden rounds are our calamities, Whereon our firm feet planting, nearer God The spirit climbs, and hath its eyes unsealed. True it is that Death's face seems stern and cold When he is sent to summon those we love; But all God's angels come to us disguised; Sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, One after another, lift their frowning masks, And we behold the Seraph's face beneath, All radiant with the Glory and the calm Of having looked upon the front of God. — James Russell Lowell

Two angels guide
The path of man, both aged and yet young.
As angels are, ripening through endless years,
On one he leans: some call her Memory,
And some Tradition; and her voice is sweet,
With deep mysterious accords: the other,
Floating above, holds down a lamp with streams
A light divine and searching on the earth,
Compelling eyes and footsteps. Memory yields,
Yet clings with loving check, and shines anew,
Reflecting all the rays of that bright lamp
Our angel Reason holds. We had not walked
But for Tradition; we walk evermore
To higher paths by brightening Reason's lamp. — George Eliot

When our lips parted, he sighed. "I love those eyes, angel. When they look at me, I feel like anything is possible. — Bijou Hunter

You might want to have Kate close her eyes if you ever want her to sleep with you, asshole. Because once I take off my pants, you'll always come second. — Debra Anastasia

When I am an old man and I can remember nothing else, I will remember this moment. The first time my eyes beheld an angel in the flesh. "I will remember your body and your eyes, your beautiful face and breasts, your curves and this." He traced his hand around her navel before dragging it lightly to the top of her lower curls. "I will remember your scent and your touch and how it felt to love you. But most of all, I will remember how it felt to gaze at true beauty, both inside and out. For you are fair, my beloved, in soul and in body, generous of spirit and generous of heart. And I will never see anything this side of heaven more beautiful tham you — Sylvain Reynard

There are stars, stars, scattered stars, blackness all between. They ripple and fold and bend, and they rush toward him, rush by him. Their colors are blazing and pure as angels' eyes. — Roger Zelazny

You are funny like a kid and awesome like a princess
Unseen like an angel, like the morning sunshine ...
Kindness like a river and highness like a mountain,
In the middle of the Rheine, the cute face and sweet lips ...
(La la la la, La la , mmmm , mm ... )
Keep the lovely smile, in your juicy icy eyes
Open the heaven for my eyes, forever angel voice
Never angry never harsh, never mad never marsh
Dear or darling, either diamond or dime,
Overall the dream of the world — M.F. Moonzajer

Georgie?" He reached out with both hands to steady her - and himself. His mind had trouble focusing. He couldn't believe Georgie was actually standing in front of him. She looked liked an angel - in knee-high biker boots. Those boots looked even better in real life than in his imagination. He gazed into her eyes and was filled with so many emotions, so many things he wanted to say to her, he didn't know where to start. "I like your shoes," he said. — Jennifer Shirk

There's a tale in the Caballa that suggests that the Angel of Death is so beautiful that upon seeing it (or him, or her) you fall in love so hard, so fast, that your soul is pulled out through your eyes. I like that story. — Neil Gaiman

Come now, Tichy. For half a century civilization hasn't been left to its own devices. A hundred years ago a certain Dior was dictating fashions in clothing. Today this sort of regulating has embraced all walks of life. If prostheticism is voted in, I assure you, in a couple of years everyone will consider the possession of a soft, hairy, sweating body to be shameful and indecent. A body needs washing, deodorizing, caring for, and even then it breaks down, while in a prostheticized society you can snap on the loveliest creations of modern engineering. What woman doesn't want to have silver iodide instead of eyes, telescoping breasts, angel's wings, iridescent legs, and feet that sing with every step? — Stanislaw Lem

E'en Beauty mourns in her decaying bower,
That Time upon her angel brow should set
His crooked autograph, and mar the jet
Of glossy locks. Lo! how her chaplet green,
The hoar frost and the canker worm destroy.
Decay's dull film obscures those matchless eyes. — Isaac McLellan

His presence in my waking world stirred all my senses. Still in slow motion, I kept walking, warmed wherever his eyes touched me. When I finally dropped eye contact, the world caught up with me
or the other way around. — Gwen Hayes

You have terminated me," one of them said in a strange, flat voice. "But I
am one of many."
"Robots!" Iggy breathed, taking Total from Angel.
"One of many, one of many, one of many," the robot Eraser was saying. Now
Nudge saw the red light in its eyes, saw how they were fading and winking out.
"Good!" spat the Gasman, kicking it hard. "Because we like to blow stuff up,
blow stuff up, blow stuff up! — James Patterson

Suddenly the reader's eyes were filled with tears, and a loving voice whispered in his ear: -Why are you crying if everything in that book isn't true?- And the reader replied: -I know; but what I feel is real. — Angel Gonzalez

Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her hair was as golden as the sun's rays, and her soul as clear and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of her frock and her red shoes and her fiddle, but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music. — Gaston Leroux

The Angel blade burns you, just as God's name chokes you," said Valentine, his cool voice sharp as crystal. "They say that those who die upon its point will achieve the gates of heaven. In which case, revenant, I am doing you a favor." He lowered the blade so that the tip touched Simon's throat. Valentine's eyes were the color of black water and there was nothing in them: no anger, no compassion, not even any hate. They were empty as a hollowed-out grave. "Any last words?"
Simon knew what he was supposed to say. Sh'ma Yisrael, adonai elohanu, adonai echod. Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. He tried to speak the words, but a searing pain burned his throat.
"Clary," he whispered instead. — Cassandra Clare

It is not I who mix the colors but your own vision,' he answered. 'I only place them next to one another on the wall in their natural state; it is the observer who mixes the colors in his own eye, like porridge. Therein lies the secret. The better the porridge, the better the painting, but you cannot make good porridge from bad buckwheat. Therefore, faith in seeing, listening, and reading is more important than faith in painting, singing, or writing.'
He took blue and red and placed them next to each other, painting the eyes of an angel. And I saw the angel's eyes turn violet.
'I work with something like a dictionary of colors,' Nikon added, 'and from it the observer composes sentences and books, in other words, images. You could do the same with writing. Why shouldn't someone create a dictionary of words that make up one book and let the reader himself assemble the words into a whole? — Milorad Pavic

The brown-eyes angel was weeping over the demon. The angel wept because she was grieved at the mere thought of someone hurting him — Sylvain Reynard

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! — George Gordon Byron

How many times have you seen Muslims quote an ayah of the Quran and their eyes were full of anger? Let me tell you, that is not how Angel Jibril brought the Quran to Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and that's not how our Prophet recited the Quran to his people. — Nouman Ali Khan

Dear God, you are beautiful. I tried to forget, to pretend I did not need you, but it was no use. You haunt my waking hours and my dreams, and though I know if I stay with you my soul my soul will be lost and my life damned, I cannot stay away, nor can I put you from me. So come and let me drown in your bewitching angel's eyes. Some things bought dearly are worth the price. — Jennifer Blake

He stepped off the pavement like a man jumping off a bridge, as calm as a swimmer with an ocean out below. Lucy had known what he was going to do the instant their eyes met. She'd know what he intended because she would have done the very same thing if she'd had his courage. Nothing was going to break his fall. — Alice Hoffman

*For eleven years, I've been worked over and abused in ways you can't imagine by things you don't want to know about. I've killed every kind of vile, black-souled, dead-eyed nightmare that ever made you piss your pjs and cry for mommy in the middle of the night. I kill monsters and, if I wanted, I could say a word and burn you to powder from the inside out. I can tear any human you ever met to rages with my bare hands. Give me one good reason why I could possibly need you?
*She looks straight at me, not blinking. No fear in her eyes.
*Because you might be the Tasmanian Devil and the Angel of Death all rolled into one, but you don't even know how to get a phone.
*I hate to admit it, but she has a point. — Richard Kadrey

I like you in my bed," Patch said. "I rarely pull down the covers. I rarely sleep. I could get used to this picture."
"Are you offering me a permanent place?"
"Already put a spare key in your pocket."
I patted my pocket. Sure enough, something small and hard was snug inside. "How charitable of you."
"I'm not feeling very charitable now," he said, holding my eyes, his voice deepening with a gravelly edge. "I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life. You haunted me to the point that I began to believe Hank had gone back on his oath and killed you. I saw your ghost in everything. I couldn't escape you and I didn't want to. You tortured me, but it was better than losing you. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Can I take advantage of you in the limo?" His eyes laughed at me. "By all means, angel mine. — Sylvia Day

Look at that ugly dead mask here and do not forget it. It is a chalk mask with dead dry poison behind it, like the death angel. It is what was this fall, and what I never want to be again. The pouting disconsolate mouth, the flat, bored, numb, expressionless eyes: symptoms of the foul decay within. — Sylvia Plath

The truth isn't just what you see with your eyes. Not just what you see ... — Kaori Yuki

Not all light is good. There is negative light, that can cast bad shadows. — Anthony Liccione

Bree arched, trying to stretch out her muscles and Alessandro gave her a dirty look as if she was displaying herself to him on purpose. Well, maybe she was a little. Even though he blocked her from the hotel attendant's gaze with his body in the doorway, Bree was sure to cover herself with the blanket. Alessandro turned around, pulling in the tray with him and his eyes flared hungrily as he looked down at her. "You look like a beautiful debauched angel," he said, his voice rough with desire. "And you're what, the demon that's corrupted me?" Bree asked raising an eyebrow and letting the blanket fall down to her waist, baring her to him. "It's my life's work, you know?" Alessandro grinned, going down on to his knees and leaning over her. Bree placed a hand on his chest, halting him. "Is that coffee, I smell?" she asked. "The debauched angel is kind of hungry." She bit her lip and smiled up at his frustrated face. — E. Jamie

I am sure I loved that baby quite as truly, quite as tenderly, with greater purity and more disinterestedness, than can enter into the best love of a later time of life, high and ennobling as it is. I am sure my fancy raised up something round that blue-eyed mite of a child, which etherealised, and made a very angel of her. If, any sunny forenoon, she had spread a little pair of wings, and flown away before my eyes, I don't think I should have regarded it as much more than I had had reason to expect. — Charles Dickens

I was in such an ugly, dark place the night we met. I looked into your eyes, and you were right there with me - my angel in the darkness. You saved me." He buries his nose in my hair and inhales audibly. "You saved me and I love you. — Lexi Ryan

She bounded before me, and returned to my side, and was off again like a young greyhound; and, at first, I found plenty of entertaiment in listening to the larks singing far and near; and enjoying the sweet, warm sunshine; and watching her, my pet, and my delight, with her golden ringlets flying loose behind, and her bright cheek, as soft and pure in its bloom, as a wild rose, and her eyes radiant with cloudless pleasure. She was a happy creautre, and an angel in those those days. It is a pity she could not stay content. — Emily Bronte

Bless you, daugher of man, Carter said, his eyes luminous and almost silver now. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and caught my breath. His lips were both burning hot and icy cold. — Richelle Mead

She had the face of an angel, and the hair of the Devil's handmaiden. The freshly washed locks flowed around her in a waist-length curtain, waves and curls of molten red that contained every shade from cinnamon to strawberry-gold. It was the kind of hair that nature usually bestowed on homely women to atone for their lack of physical beauty.
But Vivien had a face and form that belonged in a Renaissance painting, except that the reality of her was more delicate and fresh than any painted image could convey. Now that her eyes were no longer swollen, the pure blue intensity of her gaze shone full and direct on him. Her mouth, tender and rose-tinted, was a marvel of nature. — Lisa Kleypas

Nothing happened. You will go tuck yourself up in your bed and remember nothing. Do not go wandering in these areas at night. You will meet unsavory men and bloodsucking fiends," Raphael told the girl, his eyes on hers, unwavering. "And go to church."
"Do you think your calling might be telling everyone in the world what to do?" Magnus asked as they were walking home.
Raphael regarded him sourly. He had such a sweet face, Magnus thought -the face of an innocent angel, and the soul of the crankiest person in the entire world.
"You should never wear that hat again."
"My point exactly," said Magnus. — Cassandra Clare

She looked into the eyes of many of them as they passed away, like some sort of angel of death. Some were frightened, some relieved, most just confused. She served as the arbiter of their passage, an earthly Charon. Or perhaps a Valkyrie, carrying fallen heroes to Valhalla. But she'd seen no heroes, no one worthy of Valhalla. — Jacques Antoine

On the walk home he asks her, "How was training today, my angel?" As he looks down into her beautiful, ice blue eyes he marvels at her beauty. Her long, black hair, fair skin and eye color are a striking difference next to his tan skin, brown eyes and black hair. Elina heaves a huge sigh, "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I do nothing right. Today, I was able to project farther than ever. It was amazing, Papi! — Lynn Landes

I am fortunately an entirely handsome devil and appear even younger than twenty-nine. I look like a clean cut youth, a boy next door, and a good egg, and my mother stated at one time that I have the face of a heaven's angel. I have the eyes of an attractive marsupial, and I have baby-soft and white skin, and a fair complexion. I do not even have to shave, and I have finely styled hair without any of dandruff's unsightly itching or flaking. I keep my hair perfectly groomed, neat, and short at all times. I have exceptionally attractive ears. — David Foster Wallace

Sophia took in a deep breath as she prepared to screech up at him angrily like the deep-down angel-bitch she really was. However, as her beautiful violet eyes looked up furiously into the Shepherd's mesmerizing green eyes, she caught her breath and her body went weak at his masterful handling of her rebellious angel body. — Bella Swann

What self-righteous persons take to themselves, is the same work that Christ was engaged in when He was in His agony and bloody sweat, and when He died on the cross, which was the greatest thing that ever the eyes of angels beheld. Christ could accomplish other parts of this work without cost; but this part cost Him His life, as well as innumerable pains and labors. Yet this is the part which self-righteous persons go about to accomplish for themselves. — Jonathan Edwards

How do you destroy a devil to save an angel who's torn out her own eyes to believe in only his whispered deceit in her ears? — Bishop Harber

How wonderful it would be to meet an angel, I mused, but then I immediately realised that I already had. Not an archangel like Saint Michael, but my human engel from Detroit, wearing an overcoat and no hat, with lank brown hair and eyes the coler of water. — Patti Smith