Eyes Never Lies Quotes & Sayings

The unborn baby lies in a cage we call a womb. He has eyes but cannot use them, and a mouth that he has never eaten with. He has been innately equipped for a world he has not been exposed to. His innate instincts like sucking, seeing, walking, and sitting have never been utilized because no opportunity exists in his present safe and warm cocoon of development. He must be born and enter the world to discover the instincts imbued by his Creator. — T.D. Jakes

My eyes burn. My face flushes. Suddenly I realize that for the past two months I have been completely delusional, that Nikki is never coming back and apart time is going to last forever.
Nikki.
Is.
Never.
Coming.
Back.
Never.
I want to hit Tiffany.
I want to pound her face with my knuckles until the bones in my hands crumble and Tiffany is completely unrecognizable, until she no longer has a face from which she can spew lies. — Matthew Quick

The tongue may hide the truth but the eyes - never! — Mikhail Bulgakov

Deceit, Deceive, Decide just what you believe ... I see faith in your eyes, Never you hear the discouraging lies. I hear faith in your cries ... Broken is the promise, Betrayal ... The healing hand held back by the deepened nail ... Follow the god that failed. — James Hetfield

The prideful man qualifies himself by what people think of him, always looking for applause. There is another proud man; head bloodied by the world but eyes focused on what is good, never caring about spectators or the cost. He is proud that his wife can laugh, that his children can play, humbled by their love for him. His prayers say, "Please make me worthy of them" - In humility lies the foundation of strength. — Lee Goff

Eyes never lies, but doesn't mean it's true — Tun Teja

There was never one truth. Even the Higgs could still be used to prove opposing theories, its mass falling between them on a chart. Besides, I told myself, my breathing heavy, eyes widening until they bulged, I was post-truth. — Olivia Sudjic

didn't choose that life," she patted her chest rapidly. "That was me, that was me. God never wanted that, I promise you, baby. God loves you," she cried, bitterly. "Who do you think helped me escape? It was Kane, and who do you think told him to help me?" She pointed up and nodded, her teary eyes wide and hopeful. "That's right, the Man upstairs, He told Kane to help me. And he listened." She gasped several times, face crimping in agony again. "But I didn't. I knew better than that life, I knew it was wrong but I was young and stupid. Don't you fucking listen to those lies in your head," she hissed. "All lies. The truth is in here," she pressed her palm firmly to his chest. "It's all in here. — Lucian Bane

I have murdered the lovely and the helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept, and grasped to death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of love and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to that irremediable ruin. There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me; but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look on the hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the imagination of it was conceived, and long for the moment when these hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts no more. — Mary Shelley

Look with your heart and not with your eyes. The heart understands. The heart never lies. Believe what it feels, and trust what it shows. Look with your heart; the heart always knows. Love is not always beautiful, not at the start. But open your arms, and close your eyes tight. Look with your heart and when it finds love, your heart will be right. — Andrew Lloyd Webber

Under Polly's eyes, her gaunt cheeks, and her shaking hands as she poured the tea. * * * Cat watches as her cab winds its way through the streets of Soho, thinking she would never stoop to that. It's the lowest of the low. We're supposed to be features writers, not news hacks. But behind her mutterings, behind her disdain, as unwilling as she is to admit it, lies a ribbon of insecurity. The Daily Gazette is the best paper she could ever imagine working for, but Cat, just past her mid-twenties, has yet to prove herself with a big story. She's proving adept at the smaller fluff pieces - How to wear a scarf in thirty different ways! How to put the romance back into your marriage! (As if she would know anything about that.) How to revamp your wardrobe in five easy steps! But the big interviews, the ones that Poppy — Jane Green

Tis open before your eyes," returned the scout; "and he who knows it is not a niggard of its use. I have heard it said that there are men who read in books to convince themselves there is a God. I know not but man may deform his works in the settlement, as to leave that which is so clear in the wilderness a matter of doubt among traders and priests. If any such there be, and he will follow me from sun to sun, through the windings of the forest, he shall see enough to teach him that he is a fool, and the greatest of his folly lies in striving to rise to the level of One he can never equal, be it in goodness, or be it in power. — James Fenimore Cooper

I make a joke of it, but ... but I'm afraid of death." He straightened up and turned to look into Joseph's eyes. Joseph saw the fear there and was shocked by the intensity of it. "Are you afraid to die, Joseph?"
Joseph considered for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not afraid to now, but then I'm not dying now. When I come to that moment, I will probably be ... what's the right word? Maybe frightened in a way that you're frightened when an experience lies before you you've never had.
"No more than that?"
"I hope not. — Gilbert Morris

The most unfathomable schools and sages have never attained to the
gravity which dwells in the eyes of a baby of three months old. It is
the gravity of astonishment at the universe, and astonishment at the
universe is not mysticism, but a transcendent common-sense. The
fascination of children lies in this: that with each of them all things
are remade, and the universe is put again upon its trial. — Gilbert K. Chesterton

Why must you have this map?" she asks. "Even with a map, you will never leave this Town."
She brushes away the bread crumbs that have fallen on her lap and looks toward the Pool.
"Do you want to leave here?" she asks again.
I shake my head. Do I mean this as a "no", or is it only that I do not know?
"I just want to find out about the Town," I say. "The lay of the land, the history, the people, ... I want to know who made the rules, what has sway over us. I want even to know what lies beyond."
She slowly rolls her head, then fixes upon my eyes. "There is no beyond," she says. "Did you not know? We are at the End of the World. We are here forever. — Haruki Murakami

Her eyes are green, angry. Her nipples are hard. Lust is absurd. It strikes in the strangest places at the oddest times. She doesn't even realize she's feeling it. She's erected a barricade of propriety and lies between us. I despise the type of woman she is. I loathe her soft pink innocence. My body doesn't concur. I wonder why her? Why not, say, a streetlamp, for all we have in common? She's chiffon and satin ribbons. I'm raw meat and razor blades. I have never been drawn to my opposite. I like what I am. — Karen Marie Moning

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor:
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore! — Edgar Allan Poe

Always remember, that YOU are the most beautiful woman in the world. Your weight, your height, your eyes, your scars, your idiosyncrasies, your complexion, and your sartorial choices have nothing to do with beauty. The mirror lies darling. It does. Your heart is where all the beauty rests. And of course, it's your smile that sprinkles a dash of magic! The world is a better place because of your gorgeous smile. Never walk out without a smile on our face, a zing in your step, and a high dose of faith in your heart. — Manprit Kaur

You listen to your heart, Jack. And you listen to the voice that comes to you when you close your eyes. You'll know it because it will be something between a feeling and a whisper. And that voice? Jack, if your heart is good like yours is, that voice never, ever lies. — Mia Sheridan

No matter how close, you are always too far
My eyes are drawn everywhere you are.

I'm tired of the way we both pretend Tired of always wanting and never giving in
I can feel it in my skin, see it in your grin
We're more. We always have been.

Think of everything we've missed.
Every touch and every kiss.
Because we both insist.
Resist.

Hold your breath and close your eyes Distract yourself with other guys
It's no surprise, your defeated sighs
Aren't you tired of the lies?

Think of everything we've missed.
Every touch and every kiss.
Because we both insist.
Resist.

No matter how close, you are always too far
My eyes are drawn everywhere you are.

I'm done. I won't ignore. I won't pretend or resist.
I want more. — Cora Carmack

In this country, you look at a person, and you know them. It is the inside-out way the people of this country wear their soul. In their eyes you can find civilisations of honesty or sweeping fields of lies. It's taken some getting used to but now Asanka likes it - this casual unguardedness that comes from never really knowing fear. — Maxine Beneba Clarke

When the filly, the maiden, the boy and the warrior are ready to take up their Destinies, each will know it. The filly will become a mare, the maiden a woman, the boy a man. The Warrior, however, will pick up a stick and walk from his mother, his people, and his land, and never once remove his eyes from the true red road that lies beneath his feet. And yet, he will never know that he is on his Path. (From Brothers of Light) — Stan Sudan

All that is, was, and will be. Universe much too big to see. Time and space never ending, disturbing thoughts, questions pending. Limitations of human understanding. Too quick to criticize, obligation to survive, we hunger to be alive. All that is, ever, ever was, will be ever twisting, turning, Through The Never. In the dark, see past our eyes. Pursuit of truth, no matter where it lies. Gazing up to the breeze of the heavens, on a quest, meaning, reason. Come to be, how it begun. All alone in the family of the sun, curiosity teasing everyone. On our home, third stone from the sun. — James Hetfield

It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair,
Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair.

Tell me not of your starry eyes,
Your lips that seem on roses fed,
Your breasts where Cupid trembling lies,
Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed.

...Give me, instead of beauty's bust,
A tender heart, a loyal mind,
Which with temptation I could trust,
Yet never linked with error find.

One in whose gentle bosom I
Could pour my secret heart of woes.
Like the care-burdened honey-fly
That hides his murmurs in the rose.

My earthly comforter! whose love
So indefeasible might be,
That when my spirit won above
Hers could not stay for sympathy. — George Darley

Modern society has never been about finding contentment in the basics; modern society is founded on the principle that happiness lies in having more. We are bred to keep up with the Jones' because he who dies with the most toys wins. If I only work a little bit harder, a little bit longer, I'll be able to afford that boat and then I'll finally be happy. The illusive concept of finding happiness in things is the gerbil wheel that perpetually powers capitalism. I had hiked 2,283 miles and now my eyes were too wide opened to want to get on the wheel. But what was the alternative? Being homeless? — Erin Miller

The priest rose to take up the crucifix; at that, she strained her neck forward like someone who is thirsty, and, pressing her lips to the body of the Man-God, she laid upon it with all her expiring strength the most passionate kiss of love she had ever given. Then he recited the Miserateur and the Indulgentiam, dipped his right thumb in the oil, and began he unctions: first on the eyes, which had so coveted all earthly splendors; then on the nostrils, greedy for mild breezes and the smells of love; then on the mouth, which had opened to utter lies, which had moaned with pride and cried out in lust; then on the hands, which had delighted in the touch of smooth material; and lastly on the soles of the feet, once so quick when she hastened to satiate her desires and which now would never walk again. — Vladimir Nabokov

You can never heal completely. The scars will always stay behind, just to remind how cruel the time was once to you. But someday, you will learn to see beauty in the world that gave you these scars. And your eyes will shine with no lies in it. That day, you become beautiful. With baring all the scars, Which you always tried to hide from everyone. — Akshay Vasu

Please open your eyes now, but keep attention in the inner energy field of the body as you look around the room. The inner body lies at the threshold between your form identity and your essence identity, your true nature. Never lose touch with it. — Eckhart Tolle

Thus there are two books from whence I collect my Divinity; besides that written one of God, another of his servant Nature, that universal and public Manuscript, that lies expans'd unto the eyes of all; those that never saw him in the one, have discovered him in the other. — Thomas Browne

The average citizen of Oceania never sets eyes on a citizen of either Eurasia or Eastasia, and he is forbidden the knowledge of foreign languages. If he were allowed contact with foreigners he would discover that they are creatures similar to himself and that most of what he has been told about them is lies — George Orwell

You deserve a lover who wants you disheveled, with everything and all the reasons that wake you up in a haste and the demons that won't let you sleep.
You deserve a lover who makes you feel safe, who can consume this world whole if he walks hand in hand with you; someone who believes that his embraces are a perfect match with your skin.
You deserve a lover who wants to dance with you, who goes to paradise every time he looks into your eyes and never gets tired of studying your expressions.
You deserve a lover who listens when you sing, who supports you when you feel shame and respects your freedom; who flies with you and isn't afraid to fall.
You deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry. — Frida Kahlo

Oh, how long were the days of a man.
When he strode upon the broken land.
He sailed as far as a man could steer.
And he never wished to lose his fear.
For the fear of man is a thing untold.
It keeps him safe, and it proves him bold!
Don't let fear make you cease to strive,
for that fear it proves you remain alive!
I will walk this broken road,
and I will carry a heavy load!
So come at me with your awful lies,
I'm a man of truth and I'll meet your eyes! — Robert Jordan

Lies. All lies. Bree was shaking so hard she bit her tongue, but she didn't even feel the blood in her mouth.
Kill her husband and seduce the widow. She thought she'd never felt as angry as when Michael died, but this, oh God, her entire body was a live wire of rage. She was so
furious, she was almost numb. So numb that she didn't even feel herself reaching for the gun she had pulled out of the glove compartment and pocketed.
So numb that she didn't feel herself lift the gun and aim.
So numb that she saw nothing, but his eyes, staring back at her in wide eyed surprise and confusion.
She felt so numb she didn't even feel herself pull the trigger. — E. Jamie

How strange, this habit of weeping. Do animals weep? Surely they feel sadness - but do they express it with tears? He doubts it. He has never heard of a weeping cat or dog, or of a weeping wild animal. It seems to be a uniquely human trait. He doesn't see what purpose it serves. He weeps hard, even violently, and at the end of it, what? Desolate tiredness. A handkerchief soaked in tears and mucus. Red eyes for everyone to notice. And weeping is undignified. It lies beyond the tutorials of etiquette and remains a personal idiom, individual in its expression. The twist of face, quantity of tears, quality of sob, pitch of voice, volume of clamour, effect on the complexion, the play of hands, the posture taken: One discovers weeping - one's weeping personality - only upon weeping. It is a strange discovery, not only to others but to oneself. Resolve — Yann Martel

My eyes in tears
Heart never sighs
My mind never fears
I conquer the lies — Munia Khan

Syn closed his eyes as he savored the taste of her body. He'd never made love to a woman who knew anything about him. At least nothing more than the lies he'd told her.
But Shahara had stared into the abyss of his soul and seen the monster that lurked there. And she hadn't run.
Why?
What made her able to see the man when no one else ever had? In this one moment, he would give her anything.
Even his life.
I'm lost.
Lost in a way he'd never been before. Not even with Mara. Shahara made him want to be something more than a drunken thief and a paid killer.
She made him want to be a hero...
Pulling back, he stared at her dilated eyes and saw the ragged pleasure on her face. And as he gazed at her, he realized the truth.
I'm not lost. I'm found. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

And Kestrel was in a good position to gather information for Arin's spymaster, wasn't she? Beloved by the court. Daughter of the general. Close to the emperor. Promised to his son. Tensen would never tell Arin if she was his source.
It fit perfectly. Look at her now. The maid's uniform. That coat. Something hidden in her eyes. Oh, yes. Kestrel would make a fine spy.
And let's not forget that ruined dress Deliah had described, with the ripped seams and vomit and mucky hem.
Wouldn't it be like Kestrel, to risk herself?
For what? Herran?
Him?
Gods of madness and lies. Arin was insane.
He laughed out loud. — Marie Rutkoski

I never knew a man could tell so many lies, he had a different story for every set of eyes. How can he remember who he's talking to? — Neil Young

I never see the color of a person. I never notice the color of their eyes. But the thing that always gets my attention. Is when the spout out lies — Stanley Victor Paskavich

I close my eyes and press my face into his shirt and howl against him, liquid agony pouring from me. He smooths my hair from my face and continues to murmur, but he never shushes me, never tells me to stop. Never tells me it'll be all right. He knows life too well to believe such lies. — Aprilynne Pike

...the whole universe is contagious if you look at it long enough. Just opening your eyes puts you in front of a mirror, psychologically speaking. Garbage in, garbage out. Or rather, garbage goes in, but you never get rid of it. It just lies there turning to dust and slowly wafting a thin layer of grime on to every other object in your brain. Scraping the gunk off is not only a major challenge, but the chief burden of human existence. that's why I keep things so clean. Otherwise I would see little flecks of [ ] shit everywhere I looked ... — Nell Zink

Achilles was looking at me. "Your hair never quite lies flat, here." He touched my head, just behind my ear. "I don't think I've ever told you how I like it."
My scalp prickled where his fingers had been. "You haven't," I said.
"I should have." His hand drifted down to the vee at the base of my throat, drew softly across the pulse. "What about this? Have I told you what I think of this, just here?"
"No," I said.
"This surely then." His hand moved across the muscles of my chest; my skin warmed beneath it. "Have I told you of this?"
"That you have told me." My breath caught a little as I spoke.
"And what of this?" His hand lingered over my hips, drew down the line of my thigh. "Have I spoken of it?"
"You have."
"And this? Surely I would not have forgotten this." His cat's smile. "Tell me I did not."
"You did not."
"There is this too." His hand was ceaseless now. "I know I have told you of this."
I closed my eyes. "Tell me again," I said. — Madeline Miller

American voices, country voices, high-pitched and without mercy. He lies freezing, wondering if the bedsprings will give him away. For possibly the first time he is hearing America as it must sound to a non-American. Later he will recall that what surprised him most was the fanaticism, the reliance not just on flat force but on the rightness of what they planned to do ... he'd been told long ago to expect this sort of thing from Nazis, and especially from Japs - we were the ones who always played fair - but this pair outside the door now are as demoralizing as a close-up of John Wayne (the angle emphasizing how slanted his eyes are, funny you never noticed before) screaming BANZAI! — Thomas Pynchon