Pretty Green Eyes Quotes & Sayings

I don't know if I can."

I splayed my hand on the bulkhead beside Fran's shoulder and looked her in those pretty green eyes. "It's easier if you don't think about it. Shut it away, think about something else. Drink, fuck, do what you gotta do. Bury it so damn deep, it can't touch you. And before long, you'll forget what you were worried about."

Her lips turned down at the corners. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Is that what you do?"

"It works." Or it had. Until recently. Until One somehow made me look at myself though her eyes. Now I had shit going on in my head, like not wanting to let her down. Not wanting to let any of them down. Like this life and my place in it might actually mean something. That kinda thinking would get a man killed.

~ Caleb — Pippa DaCosta

Bright green eyes peered at her from underneath long lashes that curled toward Saturn. Despite the so very pretty eyes, he had a strong face with sharp angles that cast shadows from the harsh overhead cargo light. A slight overbite gave the impression of a permanent pout. Dark curls tumbled lazily from his head to his shoulders.
In one word: gorgeous.
Another word: dangerous. — Aria Kane

Gabe nodded a hello, a little shocked at the woman's appearance. She was a knockout. Dark auburn hair curling around her shoulders, pretty green eyes behind square black glasses. He looked back at Duncan but he was looking at the woman as well, and Gabe had been attached long enough to know that look. That was the 'I just want to look at you because you're so beautiful' look. He'd caught himself doing it with Julie more times than was probably acceptable. But he couldn't help himself. And judging by Duncan's look, he couldn't either. As — J.M. Madden

Is this your dress for the ball tonight?" "Yes." "Carter said you promised it'd be green. He's been talking about it matching your pretty green eyes all week." "He talks about me?" Ducky chuckled. "Nonstop." "He's probably like that with all the girls he's - " "Nope. Only you." Ducky eyed her. "Never seen him like this about anyone before, and we've been friends for quite a while now. I know you two have had your differences over Elwood and all, but you have something special. Hey, even an old hayseed like me can see it. He's drawn to you like a fly to a piece of cherry pie. — Lorna Seilstad

You do realize that getting down on one knee generally refers to a proposal, right?" Sidney
continued. "A marriage proposal?"
His eyes, a warm green-gold, daringly held hers as he softly sang the next line of the song. "'You
smiled . . . and then the spell was cast.'"
Okay, he pretty much just melted her heart right there. — Julie James

The Colonel, had he been alive, would have supported her; he had always seen in her what no one else did, her unshakable sense of her own perfectibility, her certainty that if she set her mind to something, she would master it. When the Colonel told her, as he often did, that one day she would do something important, she barely took any notice. It was as if he'd pointed out the grass was green, or her eyes large as a deer's, or that she was a pretty girl, if a bit small, that men and women alike enjoyed her presence. — Philipp Meyer

But pearls are for tears, the old legend says," Gilbert had objected.
"I'm not afraid of that. And tears can be happy as well as sad. My very happiest moments have been when I had tears in my eyes - when Marilla told me I might stay at Green Gables - when Matthew gave me the first pretty dress I ever had - when I heard that you were going to recover from the fever. So give me pearls for our troth ring, Gilbert, and I'll willingly accept the sorrow of life with its joy." -Anne — L.M. Montgomery

He shook his head and thought about it for a second. "Maybe I'm not straight? Can I still be straight when I'm sitting here looking into your eyes?" he asked. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe he wasn't as straight as he thought he was.
"Yes. Absolutely." Cormag nodded and watched him closely.
"Even when I think they're so pretty? They are, you know. So many different shades of brown ... and a little green. Just a touch; not a lot. So pretty." He sighed happily, watching those dark eyes staring back at him in surprise. He lay his head on his arms, smiling at the way Cormag flushed in embarrassment and turned his full attention onto his bottle of beer.
"Wow, you are super drunk. — Elaine White

At ten, she was moreover noisy and wild, hated confinement and cleanliness and loved nothing so well in the world as rolling down the green slope at the back of the house. At fifteen, appearances were mending; she began to curl her hair and long for balls; her complexion improved, her features were softened by plumpness and colour, her eyes gained more animation, and her figure more consequence. Her love of dirt gave away to inclination for finery, and she grew clean as she grew smart. To look almost pretty, is an acquisition of higher delight to a girl who has been looking plain the first fifteen years of her life, than a beauty from her cradle can ever imagine. — Jane Austen

I'm not ugly but I'm not pretty either. Everything is in-between. I have eyes that aren't green or brown, but a muddle. I'm not thin but I'm not fat either. the only thing you could definitely say about me is that: I'm short — Lauren Oliver

So it's true what they say about warlocks, then?"
Alec gave him a very unpleasant look. "What's true?"
"Alexander," said Magnus coldly, and Clary met Simon's eyes across the table. Hers were wide, green, and full of an expression that said Uh-oh. "You can't be rude to everyone who talks to me."
Alec made a wide, sweeping gesture. "And why not? Cramping your style, am I? I mean, maybe you were hoping to flirt with werewolf boy here. He's pretty attractive, if you like the messy-haired, broad-shouldered, chiseled-good-looks type."
"Hey, now," said Jordan mildly.
Magnus put his head in his hands.
"Or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways, Is there anything you aren't into?"
"Mermaids," said Magnus into his fingers. "They always smell like seaweed."
"It's not funny," Alec said savagely, and kicking back his chair, he got up from the table and stalked off into the crowd. — Cassandra Clare

Enid was a terrific person, Elizabeth thought, and absolutely not a nerd, no matter what Jessica said. With her shoulder-length brown hair and large green eyes, she was really pretty. — Francine Pascal

With her long dark hair and green eyes, she was pretty as a doll. You know, the kind of doll that came to life at night to kill monsters. — Alyxandra Harvey

I saw something in his pretty green eyes that I had never seen before: Anger. They were like emerald fire — Richelle Mead

Sam has brown hair and very, very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn't make a big deal about itself. — Stephen Chbosky

Good night, Aphrodite," he said softly, liking the feel of the word on his lips, like some sort of incantation. Her green eyes widened behind her spectacles at hearing him speak her actual name. But she didn't correct him. And if he wasn't mistaken, there was a blush rising in her cheek. Perhaps there was more of the pretty scholar's namesake in her than she'd previously let on. — Manda Collins

Devin was the most gorgeous, unique creature Kate had ever known. She'd come out of the womb an individual, refusing to be defined by anyone. She didn't even look like anyone on either side of their families. Matt's family was so proud of their dark hair, a blue-black that had been the envy of generations, the way it caught the sun like a spiderweb. From Kate's own side of the family, there was a gene that made their eyes so green that they could trick people into thinking that even the most unattractive Morris woman was pretty. And yet here was Devin, with fine cotton-yellow hair and light blue eyes, the left of which was a lazy eye. She'd had to wear an eye patch when she was three. And she'd loved it. She loved her knotted yellow hair. She loved wearing stripes with polka dots, and tutus, and pink and green socks with orange patent-leather shoes. Devin could care less what other people thought about her. — Sarah Addison Allen

Ah, the pretty whisperers! It was very well When the leaves were thick and green, awhile ago
Leaves are secret-keepers; but since the last leaf fell There is nothing hidden from the eyes below. — Sarah Chauncey Woolsey

Burnett let out a low growl and motioned for the agent to leave. Then he glanced back at Miranda. "How were you able to pull this off?"
Miranda shrugged. "I don't know." The girl's green eyes grew a sheen of tears. "They were going to hurt Della and Kylie. I panicked and just did it."
Della found her chest filling up with warmth. Kylie reached over and held Miranda's hand.
"And you did a great job," Kylie said. "I'm so proud of you."
"Me, too," Della added.
"Group hug," Miranda said, holding out her arms.
"No damn hugs!" Burnett snapped. "You can undo it, right?" he asked.
"I'm pretty sure I can."
"Oh, hell!" He raked a hand over his face. "Try to do it. Try really hard. I don't think our jail is set up to house kangaroos. — C.C. Hunter

Genevieve Windham was not pretty, she was exquisite. Pretty in present English parlance meant blond hair and blue eyes, regular features, and a willingness to spend significant sums at the modiste of the hour. Unless a woman was emaciated or obese, her figure mattered little, there being corsets, padding, and other devices available to augment the Creator's handiwork. Failing those artifices, one resorted to the good offices of the portraitist, who could at least render a lady's likeness pretty even if the lady herself were not. Lady Jenny left pretty sitting on its arse in the mud several leagues back. Her eyes were a luminous, emerald green, not blue. Her hair was gold, not blond. Her figure surpassed the willowy lines preferred by Polite Society and veered off into the realms of sirens, houris, and dreams a grown man didn't admit aloud lest he imperil his dignity. The itching over Elijah's body faded in the face of the itch he felt to sketch her. She — Grace Burrowes

But I could always tell in her eyes if she got really pissed at me, and her eyes were still pretty smiley — John Green

I worked hard to meet his eyes, even though they were the kind of pretty that's hard to look at.. — John Green

I looked above the jeans. Vintage Fugazi concert tee. Green flannel shirt. 10. I looked above the flannel. Two weeks' worth of shaggy blond beard. Mmm. Country hipster. 11. I looked above the beard. Lips. 12. I looked at the lips. 13. I looked at the lips. 14. I looked at the lips. 15. COME ON. 16. I looked above the lips. 17. I was glad I looked above the lips. 18. The eyes and the hair were a package deal, the hair was falling across his eyes in a careless way that said "Hey, girl. I've got peas on my shoes, but who cares, because I've got these eyes and this hair, and it's pretty fucking great." 19. The hair was the color of tabbouleh. 20. His eyes were the color of . . . 21. Pickles? 22. Green beans? 23. No. Broccoli that had been steamed for exactly sixty seconds. Vibrant. Piercing. — Alice Clayton

Christ, it's embarrassing--I start thinking about this goddam poem I sent her when we first started goin' around together. 'Rose my color is. and white, Pretty mouth and green my eyes.' Christ, it's embarrassing--it used to remind me of her. She doesn't have green eyes--she has eyes like goddam sea shells, for Chrissake. — J.D. Salinger

Yeah. She's got this pretty red hair, green eyes, a smile that could knock the wind out of a guy -"
Casper was shaking his head.
"What?"
"You're right. You don't deserve her. I think you need to introduce her to me."
Derek grinned and reached for him, but Casper danced away.
"You know, I bet she'll take one look at me and forget all about you anyway, Dare."
"You think so."
Casper took off running.
"Yeah, you'd better run, punk!" Derek yelled after him, grinning.
Take a chance. — Susan May Warren

He stripped to his trunks, then dove into the pool. We all watched as he broke the surface and climbed from the water, his muscles slick and wet, his green eyes glowing in the half light of the glass ceiling. I heard Natalie and Sara both sigh, and Harry murmur that it almost made him want to go gay. Coby stretched out on a chaise beside me and asked, So you still sorry you moved here? — Lee Nichols

Oh, Jesus," he said, wheezing with the effort it took to control
himself. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "You little
innocent. I'm fluent in French, but it isn't my first language." It
was plain by the mortified expression in those green eyes that she
didn't understand, so he explained. "Baby , if I can still think
clearly enough to speak French, then I'm not totally involved in
what I'm doing. It may sound pretty , but it doesn't mean
any thing. Men are different from women; the more excited we are,
the more like cavemen we sound. I could barely speak English with
you, much less French. As I remember, my vocabulary
deteriorated to a few short, explicit words, 'fuck' being the most
prominent."
To his amazement, she blushed, and he smiled at this further
evidence of her charming prudery. "Go to sleep," he said gently.
"Lindsey didn't even rate a replay. — Linda Howard

The Nigger was a handsome, austere woman with snow-white hair and a dark and awful dignity. Her brown eyes, brooding deep in her skull, looked out on an ugly world with philosophic sorrow. She conducted her house like a cathedral dedicated to a sad but erect Priapus. If you wanted a good laugh
and a poke in the ribs, you went to Jenny's and got your money's worth; but if the sweet worldsadness close to tears crept out of your immutable loneliness, the Long Green was your place. When you came out of there you felt that something pretty stern and important had happened. It was no jump in the hay. The dark beautiful eyes of the Nigger stayed with you for days. — John Steinbeck