Quotes & Sayings About Irises

I know why there is no glass, in front of the watercolor picture of blue irises, and why the window opens only partly and why the glass in it is shatterproof. It isn't running away they're afraid of. We wouldn't get far. It's those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge. So. — Margaret Atwood

You can't save everyone and leave yourself lost, October. It isn't fair. Not to you and not to the people who care about you."
"I'm not lost Tybalt," I said. It was oddly hard to meet his eyes now that they registered as human. His irises were supposed to be malachite green, not muddy hazel, and his pupils were supposed to be oval, not round. "I know exactly where I am."
A smile crossed his face. "If I believed that, I would walk away and never darken your door again. I can forgive you your foolishness only because I know how lost you are. But one day, you'll have to come back home. When you do, I hope you'll find me waiting. — Seanan McGuire

Iris, if you were a melody ... piano melody. I used only the good notes. — Jack Black

This is a portrait of Iris Clert if I say so. — Robert Rauschenberg

People in my hometown seldom called me piao liang, [beautiful] because my smaller eyes were a far cry from the wide irises of the most beloved television actresses. — Liu Wen

Really?" asked Nina, tugging at her corset. Pollen from one of the irises had scattered over her bare shoulder. Matthias had the overwhelming urge to brush it away with his lips. It's probably poisonous, he told himself sternly. Maybe he should take a walk. — Leigh Bardugo

His eyes were above hers, and she saw that the golden-hazel irises were rimmed with black. "Miss Hathaway ... you're quite certain fate had no hand in our meeting tonight?"
She couldn't seem to breathe properly. "Qu-quite certain."
His head bent low. "And in all likelihood we'll never meet again?"
"Never." He was too large, too close. Nervously Amelia tried to marshal her thoughts, but they scattered like spilled matchsticks ... and then he set fire to them as his breath touched her cheek.
"I hope you're right. God help me if I should ever have to face the consequences."
"Of what?" Her voice was faint.
"This." His hand slid to the back of her neck and his mouth covered hers. — Lisa Kleypas

The grass he walked through was new and a sweet smell clung to his clothes. There was blue dye on his hands from the wild irises ... that the color of the sky was a shade that could never be replicated in any photograph, just as Heaven could never be seen from the confines of Earth. — Alice Hoffman

The night was a rush of steaming pasta, wet irises, Italian leathers, swaddled beggars, skulking boys, sulking girls, garbage piles, pretzel vendors. — Francesca Lia Block

Will there be no more irises
in your garden tomorrow morning,
or perhaps any rainbows that covet
your roof will melt into Rorschach pastels
in your gutters and birdsongs in your windows
turn into shrill shriekings as you recall
how, for one moment, you were as brave
and equal to beauty as that which you feel?
Can't a world end gloriously? — B.J. Ward

I looked up into the glittering depths of his mahagony irises. A soft line had formed between his brows as he studied me, and I realized for the thousandth time I could not read him. Not like I could most people. I felt emotion roiling within him, but i was jumbled, chaotic, a mixture of desire and concern and regret. — Darynda Jones

You could slap his wrist for saying it, but then he said it with his face, and you could spank him for making faces, but then he said it with his eyes, and there were limits to correction - no way, in the end, to penetrate behind the blue irises and eradicate a boy's disgust. — Jonathan Franzen

He stood up. "Let's go." The sun spilling through the window hit his chest, making his bare skin look even more golden.
"That's okay," she sputtered. "You don't have to ... tag along."
"Yes, I do. I'm your shadow until after breakfast."
Oh great. Her gaze slipped down to his open shirt again. Was she going to have to look, or try not to look, at his chest all morning? "Then at least button your shirt." The words were out before she realised how that sounded.
The disappointment in his eyes vanished and a sexy twinkle took its place. The twinkle brought out the gold flecks in his irises, which she used to admire so much.
"Why?" he asked. "Does it bother you?"
She glared at him. "Don't go there. — C.C. Hunter

He met my gaze then. We were sitting very close. The irises of his eyes were amazingly clear and brown, like some exotic spice dissolved in brandy. You need a challenge, he had told me, and I found it right there in his gaze, along with the promise that not only was I going to lose but I would enjoy it.
-Ella's thoughts — Lisa Kleypas

Huge and shadowy, with that scent and aura of heat, with the pale gleam of gray irises through dark lashes, he was Lucifer after the Fall, beautiful and primal. — Susan Andersen

I thought you were good. That some part of you was good."
In a blink of an eye, Balthazar stood right in front of her. Arianne yelped. He took her wrist and brought the tip of the knife to the center of his chest. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up so she could look into the white center of his black irises. His silver hair rained over his forehead, covering the crease that marred its usual smoothness.
"You think I'm the good guy?" he whispered. She continued trembling, worse now. He leaned down until his lips touched her ear. "I'm not. — Kate Evangelista

She couldn't tell where his pupils ended and the irises began; looking into those eyes was like looking into a well where children had drowned. — MaryJanice Davidson

Now people look at 'The Scream' or Van Gogh's 'Irises' or a Picasso and see its new content: money. Auction houses inherently equate capital with value. — Jerry Saltz

This is impossible."
"This what?" I clutch the collar of his shirt in my fingers. His face is so close l study the varying color of his eyes.
For a long time, he says nothing. Stares at me in that way that makes me want to squirm. For a moment, it seems that his irises glow and the pupils shrink to slits. Then, he mutters, "A hunter in love with his prey — Sophie Jordan

Anders looked up and saw Rik's chocolate eyes. Even though they were brown, a closer look revealed a blue corona around the dark, almost mahogany brown irises. He'd seen a piece of agate like that once on a dig; a perfect marriage of brown and blue in the depths of a broken stone. — Caraway Carter

There's smoke in my iris, but I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids — Aesop Rock

I brushed my hand through his blond hair. "You're a fool, Your Furriness."
Tiny gold sparks flared in his irises. "You're in my rooms in my bathtub naked and you're still mouthing off."
Did he expect something different? "Hey, I didn't kick you or punch you in the throat. I consider this progress. And you haven't choked me again, which is some sort of record for you . . ."
He grabbed me with a growl. "That's it. You're in for it."
"Very scary. I'm shaking in my - "
He locked his mouth on mine and I decided it was a good incentive to shut up. — Ilona Andrews

You own me," he said, water sputtering against his lips as his head bobbed at the surface. "You have lock and key, deed to the house, the welcome mat, all that shit. It's all yours, baby."
"I'll have to take good care of my property, then."
"And I'll have to behave on and off the premises. I may be a little rowdy, but ... I'll use my manners."
I sent him a small splash. "No swearing, invading personal space, or forgetting your pleases and thank-yous."
A glimmer twinkled in his irises, and for a moment, it looked as if he was the one about to drown. "Damn straight," he pulled me against him abruptly, nose to nose. "Now please get over here and fucking kiss me. — Rachael Wade

I must have cried myself out. The tears stopped falling and I breathed in through my nose. I stood up and looked down at my baby sister lying there. I kissed my fingertips and touched her forehead.

"Goodbye, brat," I whispered.

"Stop calling me brat."

Caelyn's eyes opened. Her irises were blood red. She gave me an impish smile and bared her fangs.

Little sisters suck... — Sean Hayden

The sweet reverence that emanated from his beautiful irises warmed the chilled chambers of my heart. Looking into Hunter's eyes felt like seeing into my own soul. — Adriane Leigh

As if reading her mind, he leaned into her again, pupils dark, irises glowing like a forest caught in the last rays of sun before dusk ... "Do you want me to make you come?"
"Is that a trick question? — Dianna Hardy

His irises were pale with a dark ring, gray like his self-designed uniform ... — Cara McKenna

and eroded. Deandra Demarest's smile said the booking process was just another modeling session. Both times she'd held her head up high, rotated her face to create a flattering contour, squared her shoulders, flashed perfect teeth. Her smile was a strange mix of wholesome and sinful. The kind of blitheness that comes with getting away with too much for too long. In her case, biology helped: perfect oval face, cute cleft in her chin, widely spaced blue eyes with enormous irises that would make her appear appealingly confused when she was anything but. All of that crowned by a creamy sweep of wavy hair - brunette at nineteen, blond at twenty-nine. They say eyes are the true mirrors to the soul but Deandra Demarest's eyes — Jonathan Kellerman

I could see the widening of his pupils, and the pale blue fire of his irises. He'd told me my eyes would change too, would go lighter until they looked like amber. I couldn't imagine they'd be half as beautiful as his. He was gentle and self-deprecating and way tougher than people gave him credit for. And twin or not, he was even hotter than Quinn, in my humble opinion. — Alyxandra Harvey

I'm sorry, An," I said, hesitating before I spoke again. "Why did you think I turned Shay? I mean besides smelling the other wolf in the cave."
Ansel raised his gray eyes to meet mine, his irises hard as flint. "Because I would have run away with Bryn if anyone told me I couldn't be with her. If she weren't a Guardian, I would've turned her, and I would've run for the rest of my life to keep her by my side."
I looked at him for a long moment and then nodded slowly. He loves her. That's what love is. It must be. — Andrea Cremer

Curran was looking at her. Not in the same way he looked at me, but he was looking. An odd feeling flared in me, hot and angry, prickling my throat from the inside with hot sharp needles, and I realized it was jealousy. I guess there was a first time for everything. "Have you seen my father?" Lorelei asked. "How is he?" "I saw him last year," Curran said. "He's the same as always: tough and ornery." I came to stand next to him. Lorelei raised her eyebrows. Her eyes widened, and a sheen of pale green rolled over her irises. "You must be the human Consort." Yes, that's me, the human invalid. "My name is Kate." "Kate," she repeated, as if tasting the word. "It is an honor to meet you." Curran was smiling at her, that handsome hot smile that usually made my day better. Pushing Lorelei into the ocean wouldn't be diplomatic, even if I really wanted to do it. "Likewise. — Ilona Andrews

He pressed his forearms flat against the wall, caging me with his body. Electric heat sparked in the space between us. He pulled back. His irises swirled with silver flecks, twisting into a metallic pool. His Wolf stared down at me. I don't want anyone touching you, except me. — Elizabeth Morgan

Blue irises. They're so indescribable. It's more of a feeling. My chills evaporate and blood surges through my body heating the surface until it glistens. No words can escape, just the faint whisper of a satisfied sigh as my posture relaxes. It's as if all the wonder and nostalgia of the most surreal places on Earth have been captured then released from his gaze. It's crazy, I know it, but there are blue eyes and then there are blue eyes. It's like God decided to give one man infinitely beautiful irises, a passageway to forever, a glimpse of Heaven, and I'm looking at him. It's the only explanation because it's not possible - or fair for that matter - to have eyes so mesmerizing. — Jewel E. Ann

The sun shafted in and made her eyes glow, picking out glints of yellow in irises that were mostly green and brown. — Neal Stephenson

I recall looking out the window at Redbuds,Dogwoods, daffodils, irises and pom-pom bushes, knowing exactly what Heaven must look like: a spring day in Kentucky. — Ashley Judd

LE CHIFFRE looked incuriously at him, the whites of his eyes, which showed all round the irises, lending something impassive and doll-like to his gaze. He slowly removed one thick hand from the table and slipped it into the pocket of his dinner-jacket. The hand came out holding a small metal cylinder with a cap which Le Chiffre unscrewed. He inserted the nozzle of the cylinder, with an obscene deliberation, twice into each black nostril in turn, and luxuriously inhaled the benzedrine vapour. — Ian Fleming

His blue eyes twinkled like actual glitter. Like he went to Michael's, got a jar of it, and then poured it in his irises. "Ohhh, — Max Monroe

This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as blue as the irises of children's eyes. — F Scott Fitzgerald

If he slept, he dreamt of the woman with the icy white irises. She exploded planes, swallowed oceans and crumpled skies
in her palm in his dreams. Sometimes she and the green-eyed girl were one. At other times, the green-eyed girl was alone, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. At all times he could hear the woman's cold, low laughter. It swept across his consciousness like a hailstorm.
When he woke up, he thought he was going mad. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

And as Sean climbs into bed and closes his eyes, Mother comes, riding astride a lion the size of a house, blowing a clarion from a horn made out of a hollowed-out elephant's tusk. Her eyes have a faint crimson glow from the lasers that are mounted behind her irises, ready to fire at will.

'I touched a prince's chest today and made his heart stop,' she says. 'I'll do it again if I have to: they'll see what happens if anyone gets in my way. Good night, my son. Remember that I will always keep you safe; that I am always everywhere and always here.'

'Good night, Mom,' Sean says, and falls asleep.

And Mother recedes, wise and beautiful and strong, a genius and a hero, a punisher of thieves and a slayer of wicked men, to watch over her son in all her different versions. — Dexter Palmer

So what does the color blue say about you?" He studies all the parts of my face - mouth, nose, ears, chin - as if he's memorizing it for an exam. Then his eyes return to mine. "It says I never had a favorite color until I met this girl in a coffee shop with eyes so blue, they're almost purple, like the absolute final moments before sunrise. This girl stayed on my mind. When I saw things like a cluster of irises or a peacock at the zoo, I would think of her and say to myself, that is my favorite color. — Jessica Hawkins

Ellie?" he said. Just the reflection of his ice-blue irises seared through me. "Do you know what's coming?" "Goodbye?" I said, only half-joking. Jubal smiled, concentrating again on the road. "Maybe not. — Jamie McGuire

They were a deep emerald green, the exact same color as mine, and they glowed with an intensity I had never witnessed before. A slash of silver crossed each one, the sun's reflection making them sparkle like dancing crystals. The emerald irises appeared to be swirling in circles, creating the illusion that his eyes were never-ending. Flecks of darker emerald clustered around each pupil made my breath catch in my throat. Suddenly, my disheartened mood vanished, almost as if I had never felt sadness before. Something about these eyes held me in place, as if I had found a balance, blanketing me in a cocoon of comfort, free of worries and concerns. — Markelle Grabo

When her gaze met his, her irises were luminous, pooling bright silvery purple, a definitely inhuman glow.
He'd awoken the beast in her.
Good.
"What are you?" she whispered.
Jesse took a step back to clear his head, to free himself from the tendrils of her sorcery. It'd be easier for both of them if he could think straight.
Right. He needed to focus. He'd waited his lifetime for this moment, but, even so, the words came with difficulty.
It was never painless to bare a soul.
"I am both less than you and more," he said. "An alchemist, an amalgamation of two opposite realms. I'm the fabric of the stars. — Shana Abe

He blinks. Touches the side of my face, near my eyes. My eyes that are blue now, not green. With oval irises.
"I'm still me," I say, because my greatest fear now is that he doesn't want a hybrid Amy.
He cocks an eyebrow. "You think I care if your eyes are blue or green? I just care about you." His hand slips down my arm, and he wraps his pinky finger around mine.
"You came back to me," I say, my voice breaking over unshead tears of joy.
"I'll always come back to you," he tells me pulling me close.
Always. — Beth Revis

Naomi looks at me, her orange-brown eyes rimmed in dark shadow flecked with silver sparkles. All of that darkness around the pop of color in her irises makes them seem huge, like two sunsets floating in a night sky. I smirk again. There I go getting all poetic; good for me. — C.M. Stunich

Biting a plump bottom lip, I stare into endless irises open and poised over my own. Sliding my hand up her thigh, under her gown, I pull her closer with the hand cupping her hipbone, releasing the growl of a king caught in delight. — Poppet

You mustn't long in heaven," said Mrs. Wilkins. "You're supposed to be quite complete there. And it is heaven, isn't it, Rose? See how everything has been let in together -- the dandelions and the irises, the vulgar and the superior, me and Mrs. Fisher -- all welcome, all mixed up anyhow, and all so visibly happy and enjoying ourselves. — Elizabeth Von Arnim

There's fear that keeps you safe, and fear that warns you, and then there's fear of another sort. The kind that makes you turn on your friends, that irises the world down to one frightened person. — Margaret Ronald

In January the lavender heather and white candytufts would bloom. February perked up the plum tree, and March would bring forth the daffodils, narcissus, and moonlight bloom. April lilacs and sugartuft would blossom along with the pink and bloodred rhododendrons, bluebells, and the apple tree in the victory garden. As the weather warmed, miniature purple irises would rise amid the volunteers of white alyssum and verbena. The roses, dahlias, white Shasta daisies, black-eyed Susans, and marigolds would bloom from late spring to early fall. Leota could see it. She knew exactly — Francine Rivers

William leaned forward and pointed at the river. "I don't know why you rolled in spaghetti sauce," he said in a confidential voice. "I don't really care. But that water over there won't hurt you. Try washing it off."
She stuck her tongue out.
"Maybe after you're clean," he said.
Her eyes widened. She stared at him for a long moment. A little crazy spark lit up in her dark irises.
She raised her finger, licked it, and rubbed some dirt off her forehead.
Now what?
The girl showed him her stained finger and reached toward him slowly, aiming for his face.
"No," William said. "Bad hobo. — Ilona Andrews

You understand," Silas says quietly - the words are just for me, but I know Scarlett hears - "I'm ... when I'm twenty-eight, Rosie. You know what this means. I'm dangerous, Rosie."
"You plan on loving me when you're twenty-eight?" I interrupt, uncertain if my question is serious or not.
Silas's eyes widen in surprise. He turns to look out the taxi window for a moment, and when his eyes meet mine again, there's a beautiful sincerity glistening in the gray-blue irises. "Rosie ... I love you. Now, when I'm twenty-eight, when I'm thirty-five ... I love you."
I exhale. "Okay, then."
"But I'm - "
I put a finger against his soft, bow-shaped lips. "Okay, then. — Jackson Pearce

She presses her nose against mine, completely obscuring my view of the keyboard. I find myself staring into her large dark green eyes. Her irises are flecked with gold. I keep playing.
"Wrong note!" she cries, triumphant. — Tabitha Suzuma

Those green irises were like gentle pools of brilliant meadows of sage and green-envy coneflowers swaying in a warm breeze.
HOLY fuck. What the hell sort of poetry was that dribbling out of my twisted brain? — Christine Zolendz

Constancy will always be the genius of love, the indication of that strength which constitutes the poet. A man should possess all women in his wife, like those squalid poetasters of the seventeenth century who made fair Irises and dazzling Chloes of their lowly Manons. — Honore De Balzac

Narrow, angular features, pouty lips and hatred-filled pale, washed-out blue irises glared back at him.

Caleb flashed the young man a malevolent smirk and readied his blade. "Jude Winslow, I presume. — G.S. Jennsen

Tiny gold sparks flared in his irises. "You're in my rooms in my bathtub naked and you're still mouthing off."
Did he expect anything different? "Hey, I didn't kick or punch you in the throat. I consider this progress. And you haven't choked me again, which is some sort of record for you ... — Ilona Andrews

His pale irises had grown as dark as his intentions, lids heavy. — Cara McKenna

She waited for him to go on, but he simply gaped at her, lost for words.
"Doc Grey, do you want me?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"Vera, I..." He stopped abruptly. "I..."...
"I asked you a question." The words came out breathier than she'd intended. She stepped closer, until their bodies were less than an inch apart, and stared up into his gorgeous, honey-brown eyes. He met her gaze, and she saw a spark behind his irises that could only be described with one word: desire. — Kait Ballenger

Enzo looks up at me. Suddenly, the blackness in his eyes seems to fade, replaced by the familiar warm brown of his irises, the red slashes, the glow of life. I see a hint of his old self there, fighting through the darkness of the Underworld to gaze at me one last time. It is the look he'd given me when we used to dance.
This is the real Enzo.
"Let me go," he whispers. It is his voice. It is the voice that once comforted me, gave me strength. And as I try to take in his words, the final tendrils of the tether linking us unravel from around my heart, freeing me. — Marie Lu

Purple irises from a bucket on Market Street. The — Vanessa Diffenbaugh

Nash Hudson. Holy crap. I almost looked down to see if ice had anchored my feet to the floor, since hell had surely frozen over. Somehow I'd stepped off the dance floor and into some weird warp zone where irises swam with color and Nash Hudson smiled at me, and me alone. — Rachel Vincent

Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat's ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they'd not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena's, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently. — Margaret Atwood

That's some list you have there, little girl." He placed the crumpled half sheet of paper on the counter next to one of her knees and finally took off his sunglasses. His deep brown irises pegged her with more intensity than she'd seen in weeks.
Biting her lip, drew his attention and then he focused on her eyes again.
"Did you like it, Sir? — Jennifer Kacey

Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, to try. Under that gaze, Eanrin had no option but to sit and stare at the scribbles in the dust, stare with all the intensity a cat can muster. His pupils dilated until the golden irises were like rings of eclipsed sunfire. Imraldera watched him, chewing her bottom lip and waiting.
At last the cat lashed his tail and raised his whiskered face to her. I'm sorry, my girl. It looks to me like the Greater Stick Bug pursues the Lesser Stick Bug over the back of a giant alligator. Can't make a thing of it otherwise. — Anne Elisabeth Stengl

The first stanza of Eyes In Moonlight Drown, a poem from DeadVerse.

With your face framed in a halo of stars,
your hair melts into trailing clouds,
and your eyes in moonlight drown.
A man could lose himself
in those freckled irises,
reflecting the galaxies above;
surely he could fall into their promise
of eternity, of Heaven, of love.
Your lips glisten, part, and beckon,
a smile of warm invitation,
a suggestion of sweet intensity,
a loss of self in addictive agony.
For we translate these aesthetics
into something mystical;
ideas of fantasy, of fiction,
obscuring the clinical truth
of chemical reactions,
electric sparks, responses
as sure as gravity,
measurable yet beyond cold,
above philosophy and below truth. — Scott Kaelen

He has an armload of irises and daisies and tulips and he presents them to me. "I didn't know what kind of flowers you like."
"I like them all."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He tries to hand them to me, but then remembers the cast. "I'll put them in water."
Betty swoops in the room ridiculously fast and she grabs the flowers out of Nick's hands. "I'll take care of them. You lovebirds just sit on the couch and think swooning things at each other. — Carrie Jones

He took both of my hands, twisting to face me more fully on the flattened box beneath us, and again the colors in his irises seemed to pulse with my heartbeat. — Rachel Vincent

His eyes shone playfully, turning his irises a deep cocoa. "That's why I like you, you're a challenge."
I folded my arms and leaned back on one leg. "Oh, so that's why ... "
"Well, that and your ass."
My cheeks flamed. "Thanks."
"And your breasts."
"Got it."
"And what's between your-"
"Dex," I warned, cutting him off. — Karina Halle

[While shooting close-ups] you study real eyes, you study how the light reflects in them, you study the back of the eye, you study the way irises reflect emotion. You go into great scientific detail. — Peter Jackson

You're stunning,' he said, eyeing her up and down. His irises weren't watery blue like most redheads, but a warm caramel brown. Ash's lady areas tingled, as though they too craved a cigarette. — Eve Dangerfield

I will whisper your name
From the cracks in the canyon rocks

And you will know that this is heaven,
Knowing that someone will always remember

Your irises and where you hid your love
Letters and why you could never speak

In anything but short sentences. — Neil Hilborn

My grandmother once told my mother that there is a splice of quartz inside each of us, like the quartz inside a compass or clock. We feel the stone glow warm when we find what it is we are meant to do. My grandmother was a singer; voice was her quartz, a second heartbeat that reminded her always of who she was. My mother's quartz is dance and Joaquin's is the piano. The saddest souls in the world, my mother believes, are those who never discover this thing within them. There is a difference between those who wander in search of that glow and those who wander in hopes of evading it. It is frightening, after all - that first awakening when the radiance within threatens to topple you. Even more terrifying is the decision to allow the fire to continue smoldering, because the brighter you let it get, the more terrible the darkness should you ever let it out."

- Elizabeth Genovise "Irises" (O. Henry prize winner 2016) — Elizabeth Genovise

Hell's bells," I snarled, taking an involuntary step back. "Right here? Now? You could have given me a couple of minutes to get clear, dammit."
"And what fun would that be?" Maeve asked, pushing out her lower lip in a pout. "I am who I am, too. I love violence. I love treachery. I love your pain - and the best part, the part I love most, is that I am doing it for your own good." Her eyes gleamed white all the way around her irises. "This is me being one of the good guys. — Jim Butcher

A girl sat neatly on a flat rock. Somehow he'd not seen her. She looked like she'd stepped through the screen of a 1950s movie. Her skin and blond hair were such pale shades they looked monochrome. Her long coat was tied at the waist by a fabric belt. She was probably a few years younger than him, in her early twenties, wearing a white hat with matching gloves. "Sorry," she said, "If I surprised you." Her irises were titanium gray, her most striking feature. Her lips were an afterthought and her cheekbones flat. But her eyes ... He realized he was staring into them and quickly looked away. — Ali Shaw

I'm going to need some kind of incentive program if I'm going to fork out this kind of money."
I held back a laugh. "Incentive program, huh? So what's a stove worth these days?"
"Depends. Do you have a nurse's uniform?"
I raised a mischievous brow. "No, but I have a Princess Leia slave costume."
A deep hunger flashed in his irises. It caused a warmth to flood my abdomen, and only partly because he knew what a Princess Leia slave costume consisted of. — Darynda Jones

Give me this moment," Kahl said to me. I glanced up at him and couldn't fathom the depths of his taunting amber irises.
"You have it."
"Be my angel ... Leave with me," he whispered. In that moment, when thoughts of the boy I loved left me and fissures of pure bliss consumed me, I knew I was in trouble. — Nadege Richards

The pupils were black as like every other human being's. But at the fringe of the pupils were thin heliotrope rings. Radiating from the rings were mauve and lilac swirls that swam in a plum hue. The cilia of the irises were amethyst.

Nashira Jaynes, the alien with purple eyes , I thought. Enough to make anyone regard me as a freak — Deepika Kumaaraguru

And that's when Anna realized that what the wolf had been asking Bran for was death.
Impulsively, Anna stepped away from Charles. She put a knee on the bench she'd been sitting on and reached over the back to close her hand on Asil's wrist, which was lying across the back of the pew.
He hissed in shock but didn't pull away. As she held him the scent of wilderness, of sickness, faded. He stared at her, the whites of his eyes showing brightly while his irises narrowed to small bands around his black pupil.
"Omega," he whispered, his breath coming harshly. — Patricia Briggs

And at the bottom of each of those eyes I lived, or rather another me lived, one of the images of me, and it encountered the image of her, the most faithful image of her, in that beyound which opens, past the semiliquid sphere of the irises, in the darkness of the pupils, the mirrored hall of retinas, in our true element which extends without shores, without boundaries. — Italo Calvino

Tod's eyes widened and his irises swirled in tight twists of blue. "Well, I don't see that I have much of a choice, considering that's part of Reaper Law."
"There's a Reaper Law?"
"Of course. 'A reaper is Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous ... '" He shrugged. "It gets boring after that. But this situation is clearly covered under the 'helpful' category."
I rolled my eyes. "I think that's the Boy Scout law."
"They took it from us. But they left out all the good stuff. — Rachel Vincent

Periodically, the Tailor would stop and stretch and give Wylan a mirror so that he could consult on what looked right or wrong. An hour later, Wylan's irises had gone from gold to blue and the shape of his eyes had changed as well.
"His brow should be narrower," Jesper said, peering over Genya's shoulder. "Just a little bit. And his lashes were longer."
"I didn't know you were paying attention," murmured Wylan.
Jesper grinned. "I was paying attention."
"Oh good, he's blushing," said Genya. "Excellent for the circulation. — Leigh Bardugo

There are no green thumbs or black thumbs. There are only gardeners and non-gardeners. Gardeners are the ones who ruin after ruin get on with the high defiance of nature herself, creating, in the very face of her chaos and tornado, the bower of roses and the pride of irises. It sounds very well to garden a 'natural way'. You may see the natural way in any desert, any swamp, any leech-filled laurel hell. Defiance, on the other hand, is what makes gardeners. — Henry Mitchell

This is what it's all been about with you," he said in an even tone. "All the fear, all
the running. The nightmares." When she nodded, he said, "You called him the devil."
"He is." What are you thinking, Scot?
"But you ... married him?"
MacRieve's disgusted with me. "Basically? Yes."
"Ceremony and everything?"
She swallowed. "He tricked me into it. I-I was only sixteen."
A muscle ticked in his cheek and his irises grew pale. "Then know this ... "
She stopped breathing.
"Lass, I'm about to make you a widow
— Kresley Cole

The iris on its tall stem: neither seeking nor waiting. — Marty Rubin

Wouldn't you be mad if I told you to give up on someone you cared about? Just ... hand her over to someone who doesn't even deserve her?"
Tod gave me a strange, sad look I couldn't interpret, and the blues in his irises shifted subtly for a moment before he got control of them. "Yeah. I guess I would. — Rachel Vincent

Will's eyes met Tessa's as she came closer, almost tripping again over the torn hem of her gown. For a moment, they were in perfect understanding. Jem was what they could still look each other straight in the eye about. On the topic of Jem, they were both fierce and unyielding. Tessa saw Will's hand tighten on Jem's sleeve. "She's here," he said.
Jem's eyes opened slowly. Tessa fought to keep the look of shock from her face. His pupils were blown out, his irises a thin ring of silver around the black. "Ni shou shang le ma, quin ai de?" he whispered. — Cassandra Clare

The field was carpeted with the most lustrous show of wildflowers she had ever seen - flowers by the hundreds, the thousands, the millions. Purple irises. White lilies. Pink daisies. Yellow buttercups and red columbines and many others she knew no names for. A breeze had arisen; the sun had broken through the clouds. She shrugged off her pack and walked slowly forward. It was as if she were wading into a sea of pure color. The tips of her fingers brushed the petals of the flowers as she passed. They seemed to bow their heads in salutation, welcoming her into their embrace. In a trance of beauty, Amy moved among them. Corridors of golden sunshine fell over the field; far away, across the sea, a new age had begun.
Here she would make her garden. She would make her garden, and wait. — Justin Cronin

Fielding stood there staring at me. His eyes were wide, his irises nearly eclipsed by pupils. His mouth was slightly open, red from kissing, and emitting soft pants. Even in the moonlight, I could see a patchy red flush of arousal on the pale skin of his throat. Oh, fuck. He looked so openly bewildered and lost in desire that it took every ounce of will I had not to pull him back in and kiss him again. — Eli Easton

Thoughts of Abigail filled her world. By all accounts she had bee a tall, thin, woman, whose eyes held a power beyond the black pools of er irises. Tall, thin, and dark, she, this Abigail, looked so much like the other that her father had named her the same She was more ghost than her mother, however, moving with the quality of light breathing though a house in which the only footprints in the dust were those of her dead mother. Even her laughter, at once wild and reigned in, was all Abigail. — Chris Abani

Virginia was working in the garden, and her husband Leonard called out for her to come inside, that Hitler was just about to speak on the radio.

Virginia refused. "I am planting irises," she said, "and they will be here long after Hitler is gone."


And they are. You can go see the irises at their house, still blooming. — Connie Willis

I want a cigarette. I want a cigarette. I want to kill the woman my husband loves. This is all her fault. I got pregnant to secure the man that I had already married. A woman shouldn't have to do that. She should feel safe in her marriage. That's why you got married - to feel safe from all the men who were trying to siphon your soul. I'd yielded my soul to Caleb willingly. Offered it up like a sacrificial lamb. Now, I was not only going to have to compete with the memory of another woman, but a shriveled up baby. He was already staring into her eyes like he could see the Grand Canyon tucked away in her irises. I — Tarryn Fisher

You were at the part where we're Barbie and Ken with absolutely no problems." He drops his stare back to mine, his irises swirling with beautiful amusement. "Not true. Ken doesn't have a penis and I'd say that's a major problem. — Skyla Madi

Twisting and wiring and stringing starching and curling, delicately painting spots and shadings on scraps of silk until what had been nothing more than a pile of brightly colored fragments had been transformed into the silk irises, forget-me-not, violets and roses that would adorn the hats of women and girls more fortunate than themselves. — Melanie McGrath

I'm for a multi-racial world in which each race keeps to itself, in harmony with the other races. Like in a garden, you have flowerbeds of roses and flowerbeds of carnations and irises and different other flowers. They don't intermarry. They stay separate, and each one has its beauty ... I'm against colonialism for the reason that colonialism infects the master as well as the slave. It even infects the master more. — Savitri Devi

I played Iris Murdoch, who had not long died, and I felt the responsibility very heavy on my shoulders. — Judi Dench

The torture-wheel shall serve him even as these horses from Hell have served my blood-red lilies of Sotar and my vein-colored irises of Naat and my orchids from Uccastrog which were purple as the bruises of love. — Clark Ashton Smith

The impact hit her like a physical blow. He was ... "Beautiful." Eyes of such pure undiluted blue it was as if some heavenly artist had crushed sapphires into his paints and then colored in the irises with the finest of brushes. — Nalini Singh

In a flash, the previously lusty green irises morphed into an angry blood red. Nadua stood with a gasp, not sure what was happening to him. The horns that peeked out of his sandy brown hair began to alter their color as well, taking on the cast of burning embers. Razor-sharp fangs peeked out from his lips, twisted in rage. This was how he had looked when he was tearing through her men. — Kiersten Fay