Quotes & Sayings About Eyes Nose And Lips

The still waters
Wrap my lips,
Eyes, nose and ears,
A clear
Cellophane I cannot crack. — Sylvia Plath

Without looking at him, Sera could feel Andrew brooding and watching her.
Something was about to happen, is happening.
She was bothered by his lips, his cheeks, his nose. Bothered by the veins on his arms, by the way his skin might feel. Bothered by his large hands and bothered beyond limit by his eyes. — Ava Zavora

Then he told her, in the quiet tones of someone offloading a confession, that she was the most mazing women he had ever met. And when she lifted her swollen eyes to his, Ed mopped her bleeding nose, and he dropped his lips gently onto hers, and he did what he had wanted to do for the past forty-eight hours, even if he had been initially too dumb to know it, He kissed her. — Jojo Moyes

I bite my lip as I begin reading: She needs some sun! Her eyes are hard to see - they're too dark; her nose is thin; no cheek bones!; I think her lips are uneven; her chin is really square, and my favorite: is that a mole or a zit? Awesome. Twenty pages of these cryptic remarks sure do make a girl feel good about herself. The last page changes my sour mood completely. On it there is a sketch of my face - no, sketch is the wrong word. It's too common a word. This is more than a sketch. This is a portrait of my face. The image of the girl staring back at me is so stunning, that I actually gasp. The handwriting on the bottom of the page, which is small and elegant, holds only two words: You're perfect. — Danielle Bannister

I found the only place I ever wanted to live again in this girl, right her in my arms. I leaned back just barely, ran my thumb from her brow o the tip of her nose and stopped at her lips, loving the way her eyes fluttered. I'll always come to you. — Shelly Crane

At first we had so much to catch up on we were talking a hundred words a second, barely even listening to the ends of one another's sentences before moving onto the next. And there was laughing. Lots of laughing. Then the laughing stopped and there was this silence. What the hell was it?
It was like the world stopped turning in that instant. Like everyone around us had disappeared. Like everything at home was forgotten about. It was as if those few minutes on this world were created just for us and all we could do was look at each other. It was like he was seeing my face for the first time. He looked confused but kind of amused. Exactly how I felt. Because I was sitting on the grass with my best friend Alex, and that was my best friend Alex's face and nose and eyes and lips, but they seemed different. So I kissed him. I seized the moment and I kissed him, — Cecelia Ahern

The clue to everything a man should love and fear in her was there right from the start in the ironic smile that primed and swelled the archery of her full lips. There was pride in that smile and confidence in the set of her fine nose. Without understanding why I knew beyond question that a lot of people would mistake her pride for arrogance and confuse her confidence with impassivity. I didn't make that mistake. My eyes were lost swimming floating free in the shimmering lagoon of her steady even stare. Her eyes were large and spectacularly green. It was the green that trees are in vivid dreams. It was the green that the sea would be if the sea were perfect. — Gregory David Roberts

Snuggle up with a hot fireman! Meet Tanner West.
Sharon looked up into the most gorgeous face she had ever seen. Eyes like dark chocolate, deep and warm, stared out at her from a face that looked like it could have been chiseled in stone. Skin the color of burnished copper, high cheekbones, a sharp nose, full lips, and a cleft chin. How the hell had she failed to notice him before? Her heart skipped a beat and she ran her gaze down the rest of his body. He was tall, well over six feet, she would guess, with broad shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. His thighs, encased in worn denim, fit like a second skin against legs the size of tree trunks, and oh my, what lay between those thighs ... Her attention snapped back to his face and she could feel the heat of a blush suffuse her skin. — Tamara Hoffa

Mr. Emerson watched, almost breathless, as she swirled the wine in her glass expertly, then lifted it so that she could examine it more closely in the candlelight. She brought the glass to her nose, closed her eyes, and sniffed. Then she placed the glass to her plump lips and tasted the wine, holding it in her mouth for a while before swallowing. She opened her eyes, smiled even more widely, and thanked Antonio for his precious gift. — Sylvain Reynard

She got a long pointed nose and big fleshy mouth. Lips look like black plum. Eyes big, glossy. Feverish. And mean. Like, sick as she is, if a snake cross her path, she kill it — Alice Walker

Spirit, who are you?' Andy demanded. Bobby remained silent, his entire body strained, his lips tightly together, his eyes bulging out. He was taking frantic, short breaths through his nose. His face was crimson. Spirit,' said Andy, 'I command you to tell us who you are in Jesus' name!' Don't you mention that name!' the spirit hissed and then cursed. I will mention that name again and again,' said Hank. You know that name has defeated you. — Frank Peretti

I dived for it, caught it three inches above the cement, and found myself face-to-face with the salamander. Ruby-red eyes regarded me with mild curiosity, black lips parted, and a long, spiderweb-thin filament of a tongue slithered from the salamander's mouth and kissed the sphere's glass in the reflection of my nose. Hi, I love you, too. — Ilona Andrews

Her hair, the brightest shade of red he had ever seen, seemed to feed on the firelight, glowing with incandescent heat. The slender wings of her brows and the heavy fringe of her lashes were a darker shade of auburn, while her skin was that of a true redhead, fair and a bit freckled on the nose and cheeks. Sebastian was amused by the festive scattering of little gold flecks, sprinkled as if by the whim of a friendly fairy. She had unfashionably full lips that were colored a natural rose, and large, round blue eyes... pretty but emotionless eyes, like those of a wax doll. — Lisa Kleypas

A woman with super long platinum blonde hair, a fake tan, injected bubble gum pink lips, and a large boob job came in. Phoebe showed her where to set up in front of us and we all sat patiently.
"Hello, I'm Tandy" I almost rolled my eyes at her name, given her appearance. She placed a case on the coffee table in front of us, opened it, and pulled out rubber penises. I almost shot my drink out of my nose, again. "I will be instructing you on proper blow job technique."
"Oh my God, Phoebe." I shouted at her.
"Yeah," Viola clapped her hands and reached out to be the first to get a rubber practice penis. — Sadie Grubor

Why? Because his hair is brown and grows away from his temples; because he opens and shuts his eyes, and his nose is a little out of drawing; because he has two lips and a square chin, and a little finger which he can't straighten from having played baseball too energetically in his youth. Because - — Kate Chopin

I lean all my weight on the porcelain ledge, I draw my face closer until it touches the mirror. The eyes, nose, and mouth disappear. Nothing is left. Brown wrinkles show on each side of the feverish swelled lips, crevices, mole holes. A silky, white down covers the great slopes of the cheeks, two hairs protrude from the nostrils: it is a geological embossed map. And, in spite of everything, this lunar world is familiar to me. I cannot say I recognize the details. But the whole thing gives me an impression of something seen before which stupefies me: I slip quietly off to sleep. — Jean-Paul Sartre

I pause, examining her eyes, and then move forward with caution. "So if I kissed you right now, I wouldn't be taking advantage of you?"
"No, but I might be taking advantage of you. Your breath smells about as bad as the bottle." She fans her nose with a smile.
"Trust me. You can take advantage of me and I won't mind, even when I sober up." I press my lips to hers, feeling my heart thump in my chest as her breath catches.
It grows silent as we lie with our foreheads touching and our breaths mingling. I place my hand on her hip, shutting my eyes, feeling the intensity of the moment like an open wound. — Jessica Sorensen

An onion-breathed technician in a lab coat measures the distance between Werner's temples, the circumference of his head, and the thickness and shape of his lips. Calipers are used to evaluate his feet, the length of his fingers, and the distance between his eyes and his navel. They measure his penis. The angle of his nose is quantified with a wooden protractor. — Anthony Doerr

Fine." He leans his face closer to mine, his eyes focusing on my chin, and my lips, and my nose. "I watched you because I like you." He says it plainly, boldly, and his eyes flick up to mine. "And don't call me 'Four,' okay? It's nice to hear my name again. — Veronica Roth

He puts up with a lot from me, and he never gets irritated."
"Yeah, cause you can be so darn irritating ... " He lowered his face and kissed my eyebrow tenderly, "with those irritating cinnamon-brown eyes ... " His kisses moved down to my nose. "And that irritating, tiny nose ... " He paused, his mouth a mere breath away from mine, and he kissed me softly. "And those irritating, luscious lips ... " The green of his eyes darkened as he gazed down at my mouth. "God, those lips ... " he sighed, and his warm breath drifted lightly across my mouth as his arms tightened around me more. He kissed me long and hard. — Tess Oliver

He dragged his lips up the soft skin of her neck and gently nipped her ear lobe, sipping on the soft flesh. Her hands splayed against his chest.
Expecting a shove, his senses careened when her fingers fisted his surcoat. Their ragged breath overloud in the forest, he eased his face away, nose rubbing against her jaw on his retreat, and sought her eyes. Hers darkened and - Lord help him - held no censure, only interest.
He stepped back. — Angela Quarles

His breath halted as he stared at her. Why hadn't he seen it before? The woman in his carriage, the one who'd emerged from his carriage like a Botticelli Venus, was beautiful.
Not in the way Cassandra had been beautiful, with glittering eyes and full, red lips. Cassandra's blond beauty might have faded in time, become handsomeness instead.
This woman's beauty was simple; well-defined cheekbones, a high forehead, slender nose, and stubborn chin. As the years passed she might grow even more attractive.
He suspected that her laugh would captivate, just as her tears would act like a razor to whomever brought them forth. Her smile had already charmed him, and now her silence incited his curiosity. Not about who she was and why she was here, but about more.
Who was the woman behind the smile? — Karen Ranney

Jack stared at me. He had big blue eyes that were at war with the blue in his hair for attention - vibrant, sparkling, crystalline. His face? Defined cheekbones, full lips, straight nose and a strong jaw. In fact, I hadn't really looked that close at him before, but he was kind of hot, if you could get past the whole punk thing (which for the record, wasn't my thing at all)." --Jen — Nessie Strange

How I should despise such a thing if I were a man. What a nose she has! what a chin! what a neck! Then her eyes
and the worst kissing lips in the universe. — John Vanbrugh

His lips come too close. "But I love you."
"No you don't."
His eyes close. He leans his forehead against mine. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"I hate you."
He shakes his head very slowly. Dips down. His nose brushes the nape of my neck and I stifle a horrified shiver that he misunderstands. His lips touch my skin and I actually whimper. "God, I'd love to just take a bite out of you. — Tahereh Mafi

I have often wondered what was the source of her beauty, her radiance. It's not the size of one's nose, the color of one's skin, the shape of one's lips or eyes that make one beautiful or ugly. So what is it? Can you, as a woman, tell me?
I shook my head.
I will tell you: It's love. Love makes us beautiful. Do you know a single person who loves and is loved, who is loved unconditionally and who, at the same time, is ugly? There's no need to ponder the question. There is no such person. — Jan-Philipp Sendker

I was adored [as a kid]. I was always in the air, hurled up and kissed and thrown in the air again. Until I was six, my feet didn't touch the ground. "Look at those eyes! That nose! Those lips! That tooth! Get that child away from me, quick! I'll eat him!" Giving that up was very difficult later on in life. — Mel Brooks

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and bit her bottom lip. I found it to be such an erotic gesture that it aroused me. My eyes began making love to her in the dark. Unseen hands passed over her curves, quietly descending ... trembling at her great beauty. I didn't even know her, but I wanted her. My gaze danced over her every curve, from her nose and lips, to her breasts and hips, surreptitiously. She had no idea of my thoughts. Shadow sex. — Rae Hachton

Oliver Marley understood what it was like to be a specter, a spook or phantom. To his colleagues Oliver had brown eyes, matching hair, a hint of forehead and little else. While logic dictates that eyes, foreheads and hair must in fact belong to some kind of face, and that face be attached by the neck to a body of some fashion, there was precious little evidence to support this. Always peeking out from a computer terminal, behind paperwork or over a cubicle wall, should Oliver have a duck in place of a nose, or a pair of green beans rather than lips, no one would be the wiser. — Kingfisher Pink

Her eyes slid to Daniel. His fingers did a fast hunt-and-peck across the keyboard as his brows furrowed. The glow of the screen lit his face in the inadequately lit room. He had a nice profile. Long dark lashes that swept up and down as he typed, the perfect sized nose, a strong jaw, freshly shaven. His lips were nice too. Gently rounded peaks, set far apart. His lower lip was generous. Good kissing lips. He pursed them now. Jade jerked her eyes away. What are you doing, Jade? That's Daniel. She'd never noticed his nose or his long lashes, to say nothing of his lips - or had thoughts of kissing them. It was the hormones. They were doing weird things to her. Making her think crazy thoughts. Thoughts — Denise Hunter

Even more than the cold, I'm frozen by the sadness in his beautiful eyes, deep and true. He squeezes them closed a moment and breathes deeply through his nose. Then, with one swift movement, he cups the back of my neck with a strong hand, pulls my head forward, and presses his lips to mine. He wastes precious moments kissing me, his tongue gliding across my lips, darting at my teeth. I open my mouth and kiss back just as eagerly. — Rae Carson

His lips were practically grazing my nose. His gray eyes were so intense I could feel them reach my soul - if that were possible, anyways. With a smile so devious on his face and in his eyes Xavier whispered, "I can tell that every part of you wants to give in to what I am. The feeling that you feel right now is consuming. I've been there before, Ava. You can't deny everything much longer."
Closing my eyes, and swallowing back every temptation I felt, I backed away from his warmth. I opened my eyes to see his eyes searching my face in pure awe.
"Watch me," I challenged. — Barbara C. Doyle

His hair was shorter than I remembered, tawny in this half-light, the tousled edges casually framing the clean, commanding lines of his face. His mouth, normally so stern was relaxed now and as I stared a slight sweet smile touched his lips, its curve softening the straight strong lines of his nose and brow. Finally, inevitably, I met his eyes and felt a connection that seared straight through me, down through my soles and away. Those eyes, darker than mine, the darkest blue, dark and as impenetrable as glaciers. Tonight he was real, so very real that my heart thumped, my blood sang, my legs shook. — Hannah Blatchford

So I pulled a gun on him and demanded his wallet."
The soda in my mouth becomes the soda in my nose. "You had a gun?" I cough and sputter into my napkin.
Mom's eyes go round and she pressed her finger to her lips, mouthing, "Shhh!"
"Where did you get a gun?" I hiss.
"Oliver lent it to me. He was always looking out for me. Told me to shoot first and run. He said the asking-questions-later part was for the police." She grins at my expression. "Does that earn me cool points?"
I swirl a fry in the mound of ketchup on my plate. "You want cool points for pulling a gun on my father?" I say it with all the appropriate disdain and condescension it deserves, but deep down, we both know she gets mega cool points for it.
"Psh." She waves her hand. "I didn't even know whether or not it would fire. And anyway, he didn't hand me his wallet. He propositioned me instead."
"Okay. Ew."
"Not like that, you brat. — Anna Banks

I heard the Avarosh aunt say, 'She should grow her hair to hide that pointy chin and pointy nose.'"
"If I see that pointy chin and nose hidden, I'll have to hurt someone."
"You're supposed to say I don't have a pointy chin or pointy nose."
"But you do. And you also have pointy eyes," he added as he kissed both lids, "and a pointy mouth," he teased, pressing his lips against hers, "and a pointy tongue." His body covered hers as he held her face in his hands and captured her mouth, the silk warmness of her tongue matching his, stroke for stroke. Then he felt the sharp nip of her teeth as his mouth dared leave hers, traveling down toward her throat, fleetingly tracing the scars of the noose. "And a pointy, pointy heart. — Melina Marchetta

This time she looked right at him and that heat burned just a little bit hotter when he caught the full power of a pair of baby blue eyes, a perfectly straight nose and lips naked of any dressing but a sweet, if not aloof, smile. — Christyne Butler

My first sight of the fabled warrior was a surprise. He was not a mighty-thewed giant, like Ajax. His body was not broad and powerful, as Odysseos'. He seemed small, almost boyish, his bare arms and legs slim and virtually hairless. His chin was shaved clean, and the ringlets of his long black hair were tied up in a silver chain. He wore a splendid white silk tunic, bordered with a purple key design, cinched at the waist with a belt of interlocking gold crescents ... His face was the greatest shock. Ugly, almost to the point of being grotesque. Narrow beady eyes, lips curled in a perpetual snarl, a sharp hook of a nose, skin pocked and cratered ... A small ugly boy born to be a king ... A young man possessed with fire to silence the laughter, to stifle the taunting. His slim arms and legs were iron-hard, knotted with muscle. His dark eyes were absolutely humourless. There was no doubt in my mind that he could outfight Odysseos or even powerful Ajax on sheer willpower alone. — Ben Bova

My eyes are different sizes, my nose is too broad at the bridge and squishes up when I laugh, and my lips are sorta funny when I smile. — Terry Farrell

He shouldn't be captivated by the sight of a tear caught on her lashes, or her perfect nose, slightly pink. Those lips were even more intriguing, so he made himself look away, staring out at the forest beyond the gazebo.
He glanced down to find Ellice still looking up at him, her eyes liquid pools of chocolate.
Their gaze caught and held, the seconds ticking by in solemn regularity. He felt drawn to her like a magnet. Pulling away would be a difficult task.
He must for his own safety. This woman with her guileless eyes, soft heart, and lurid imagination was a danger. — Karen Ranney

Mew, the kitten retorted, locking gazes with him. It had the expression common to all kittens, that of a tyrant in the becoming. 'I was comfortable, and you dared to move,' those jade eyes said. 'For that you must die.' When it became apparent to the cat that its two or three pounds of mass were insufficient to break Locke's neck with one mighty snap, it put its paws on his shoulders and began sharing its drool-covered nose with his lips. He recoiled. — Scott Lynch

I found something for you." He ignored the pangs of hunger and lowered himself to one knee before her. Her eyes widened. He swung his hand around from behind his back and held out a lone orchid the same shade as the moon overhead. And once again, he wished he knew what to say, how to talk to her, how to be more sophisticated. Instead, he thrust it before her. She tentatively took it from him and lifted questioning eyes. "For your collection of specimens," he offered. Her fingers caressed the drooping petals. "I think it's a yellow lady's slipper." He didn't know nor did he care. He only knew that he wanted one of her rare smiles. For a long intense moment, he held his breath. Finally her lips curved into a smile. "Thank you." His pulse jolted forward and he swallowed hard. "You're welcome." What was happening to him? Why did he want to make her happy? When she lifted the flower to her nose and took a deep breath, her smile moved to her eyes . . . And to his heart. — Jody Hedlund

She shouldn't have been beautiful - she was too forward, too freckled, too thin. Still ... Oh, to hell with it all. He wasn't hungry, anyway. He reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. She drifted near, until she was close enough to kiss. Close enough for him to see the green of her eyes, widening as he turned her hand over, palm up.
"There's something I've wanted to do since the first moment I saw you," he said. It came out close to a whisper.
"Oh?" He could feel the puff of breath from that word against his nose.
"Don't even think of arguing."
She shook her head. Her lips opened, an impossible, inviting fraction.
He set the fork in the palm of her hand and closed his fingers tightly around hers. "I want you to eat," he said. — Courtney Milan

The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas. — Charles Dickens

She studied his profile, the high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, strong, masculine nose, and full, sensuous mouth, fixing on the last, her insides quivering at the thought of those soft and knowing lips ... — Victoria Vane

Indelible, adj.
That first night, you took your finger and pointed to the top of my head, then traced a line between my eyes, down my nose, over my lips, my chin, my neck, to the center of my chest. It was so surprising. I knew I would never mimic it. That one gesture would be yours forever. — David Levithan

I take her face between my hands.
I kiss her forehead,
I kiss her nose,
I kiss her eyes.
And when our lips meet, I kiss her soul. — J.R. Richardson

I really like my eyes, nose, and lips. I especially like my nose. I really like my lips too. I think my lips are sexy. — Taeyang

Sefalin coddled his father's head in his lap. The old man's eyes were becoming glassy. Reminded of the elves, Lozane said, "Have you done as they say, my boy? Have you dredged up the Coda Uma and let it go to that blackheart Helix?"
Tears burst from Prince Sefalin's eyes. He couldn't speak, just nodded. His lips flushed a deeper purple. His hair was matted to his reddened forehead by blood. From head to toe he wore spatters and blotches of cadaverous slime and melting snowflakes. A vein in his temple throbbed hotly while mucus dripped from his nose. — Leonard Mokos

It is well-known that there are many faces in the world over the finishing of which nature did not take much trouble, did not employ any fine tools such as files, gimlets, and so on, but simply hacked them out with round strokes: one chop-a nose appears; another chop-lips appear; eyes are scooped out with a big drill; and she lets it go into the world rough-hewn, saing: ALIVE! — Nikolai Gogol

She was battered and beaten up, and not smiling this time. Liesel could see it on her face. Blood leaked from her nose and licked at her lips. Her eyes had blackened. Cuts had opened up and a series of wounds were rising to the surface of her skin. All from the words. From Liesel's words. — Markus Zusak

I don't have any chocolate bars right now."
She pressed her lips together as she placed two small fingers at the bridge of her nose and shook her head as though she had lost all hope for him. Finally, she sighed as though more than put out. Her eyes were twinkling, though, the shadows of fear easing.
"I'll take you on your word then," she sighed. "But you really should stock up on chocolate bars. It's more precious than gold when dealing with kids, ya know. — Lora Leigh

Tall, way taller than her five foot five frame, his body bulged with muscles covered in tanned skin. He possessed layered down brown hair with gold highlights, vivid turquoise eyes and chiseled features, including a strong straight nose
surprising because with a taunting mouth like his she expected he'd gotten it broken more than once in his life
a square chin, and wickedly full lips that now quirked into a grin.
-"Enjoying the view?" he taunted.
-"Deciding what part to carve off your body first," she replied."Do you have a name by the way? Or should I just refer to you as 'that asshole'?"
-"You can call me Remy, but when I get your thighs around my neck, feel free to call me God. It totally pisses Lucifer's brother off, which means brownie points for me. — Eve Langlais

Gracie leaned out the back, craning her neck as far as she could around the side, trying to catch the wind in her nose and flapping lips. She loved driving, and this car was much faster than the truck which hauled her cage. It was very green here, and the sun flashed and flickered behind the tall trees. There were a million smells along this road, both old and just born. She closed her eyes and huffed, pretending she was flying. — Cole Alpaugh

Why?" asked her companion. "Why do you love him when you ought not to?"
Edna, with a motion or two, dragged herself on her knees before Mademoiselle Reisz, who took the glowing face between her two hands.
"Why? Because his hair is brown and grows away from his temples; because he opens and shuts his eyes, and his nose is a little out of drawing; because he has two lips and a square chin, and a little finger which he can't straighten from having played baseball too energetically in his youth. Because - "
"Because you do, in short," laughed Mademoiselle. — Kate Chopin

Drink this."
"Um, how 'bout no," I replied, staring at the dark green contents. Whatever the liquid was, it smelled like pine trees and dirt, and seeing how this woman was Izzy's mom, I figured it was poisoned.
But Aislinn just shrugged. "Don't, then. No skin off my nose if your head hurts."
"It's okay," Mom said, never taking her eyes off Aislinn. "It'll make you feel better."
"By making me dead?" I asked. "I mean, I'm sure that would make my headache go away, but that's a heck of a side effect."
"Sophie," Mom murmured, a warning tone in her voice.
But Aislinn just regarded me shrewdly, a tiny smile playing on her lips. "She's got a mouth on her, that's for sure," she said. Her eyes flicked to Mom. "Must've gotten that from him. You were always quiet. — Rachel Hawkins

Sir Makin is almost the handsome knight of legend, dark locks curling, tall, a swordman's build, darkest eyes, his armour always polished, blade keen. Only the thickness of his lips and the sharpness of his nose leave him shy of a maiden's dream. His mouth too expressive, his look too hawkish. In other matters too Sir Makin is "almost". Almost honourable, almost honest. About his friendship, though, there is no almost. — Mark Lawrence

He moved closer to her, his face just inches away from her. They stood motionless. Jason looked deep into her eyes. He tore away her barriers and locked eyes. His nose two inches away, he slightly tilted his face and looked at her lips. She slightly turned her face at the opposite angle. — Mark A. Cooper