His eyes were dazzled by it.
She bit her lips to keep them from quivering and blinked her eyes to get rid of the blur.
He walked up and down the river bank, leading his horse behind him; but he kept his eyes turned always toward the dim, dark spot which he knew was the old North Church.
His eyes mocked her.
"But I saw the little pigs with my own eyes!" exclaimed Zeb.
"Bravo! bravo!" cried his mother, her eyes sparkling with pride.
And he will find he is capable of adding far more value than as a set of eyes watching a screen.
Our eyes are capable of seeing only a narrow spectrum of light.
"As for my part," His eyes were like soft chocolate pools as he gazed into hers.
Alex rolled his eyes and made a face.
His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed a warning.
In that moment she was certain she saw something in his eyes - something akin to remorse.
Then his eyes overflowed with tears, and he fell on his knees before the king.
"Very well," Señor Medena said, his lips trying to suppress a smile his eyes couldn't hide.
For they were in the streets of a beautiful emerald-green city, bathed in a grateful green light that was especially pleasing to their eyes, and surrounded by merry faced people in gorgeous green-and-gold costumes of many extraordinary designs.
With tears in her eyes she went out and stood in the whisperer's place.
He opened his eyes and looked around at the small, plain room and at the poor people standing near him.
His eyes closed and he was soon fast asleep.
All eyes were turned to see why the king had said, "Open the window."
Tears were in his eyes; but he tried to look brave.
His large eyes were bright and snappy.
He seems weak, and his eyes are dull.
The two boys, Charlot and Blondel, with wondering eyes watched their father and mother undress the little stranger.
Dark eyes studied her intently.
"I have been so excited since father said you were coming!" she said to Alex, but her eyes included Carmen.
He gazed down at her, a wry smile on his lips - his eyes mocking her.
"Get a life," he answered instantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
Alex glanced at Carmen, his eyes twinkling.
Her dark eyes fixed on Carmen, eagerly waiting for the rest of the story.
He nodded, his pale eyes darkening enough to twinkle.
And then her eyes grew large.
For a moment he simply gazed into her eyes, and then he drew a deep breath.
The beautiful creature passed her hands over her eyes an instant, tucked in a stray lock of hair that had become disarranged, and after a look around the garden made those present a gracious bow and said, in a sweet but even toned voice:
Others had flat noses, protruding eyes, and ears that were shaped like those of an elephant.
He knew that these were the eyes of the wolf.
Then she saw that the child's face was very pale and that he neither opened his eyes nor moved.
Did your eyes dilate?
We see with our eyes many people doing mind-numbingly boring jobs and assume that is all they are capable of doing.
I suppose that is because so many of my impressions come to me through the medium of others' eyes and ears.
Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never open them again.
Alex swung around, his eyes twinkling with humor and that cute dimple teasing his cheek.
She picked up her coffee cup and took another sip, her eyes searching his over the rim.
His gaze landed softly on her eyes and his voice was gentle.
The sparkle faded from his eyes, leaving them soft sweet chocolate pools.
His eyes blinked and opened, slowly focusing on her face.
The smile came slowly, warming his eyes - touching them with humor.
Her eyes were almond shaped, the brown of the iris so dark that it was almost black.
Like her father, the dark eyes that examined Carmen revealed little emotion.
Amusement twinkled in his eyes and played with the corners of his mouth.
That pleased smile was on his lips again and his eyes held a glint of humor.
All eyes were on Alex as he mounted.
A touch of humor lurked in Señor Medena's dark eyes, but he continued as if he didn't notice.
Felipa rolled her eyes and looked embarrassed.
Nina said, her eyes expressing delight.
In the morning she opened her eyes to find Destiny's face only inches away from hers.
Your eyes... they are so unusual.
I guess violet eyes are unusual, but I think they look the same from my viewpoint.
"You speak to each other across the room with your eyes," she said as if it were some incredible feat.
His eyes twinkled with humor.
Carmen wiped Destiny's face and eyes with the cool rag and used a tissue to wipe her nose.
Jonathan asked, his eyes large.
Dulce glanced at her father and then at Carmen, her dark eyes barely veiling contempt.
Carmen turned and lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the sun.
Kicking his foot free of the stirrup, he offered her a hand, never taking his eyes off Señor Medena.
His solemn gaze roved over her face.
When she spotted Carmen, her eyes widened, but she kept walking.
Dulce's eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were covered with tears.
Apparently he found what he was looking for, because a smile touched the corners of his mouth and his eyes warmed.
His eyes twinkled with humor and the dimple appeared.
Alex stroked her hair and spoke to her softly, encouraging her to close her eyes and relax.
She opened her eyes to find his concerned face over her.
The humor in her eyes summoned the dimple under his eye and lifted his brows.
When she re-entered the bedroom, he was propped up on a pillow, his eyes closed and the blankets tucked around his neck.
His eyes flashed humor that obediently avoided his lips.
His troubled gaze came back to her face, pacing from her eyes to her lips.
They had fierce eyes and sharp talons and beaks, and the children hoped none of them would venture into the cavern.
The group of these queer creatures which was discovered clustered near the stairs at first remained staring and motionless, glaring with evil eyes at the intruders who had so suddenly appeared in their land.
"How old are you?" enquired Zeb, who stared at the yellow eyes as if fascinated.
"Tastes differ," murmured the dragonette, slowly drooping its scaley eyelids over its yellow eyes, until they looked like half-moons.
The Sawhorse stopped at the same time and stared at the other with its queer protruding eyes, which were mere knots in the log that formed its body.
One was an enormous Lion with clear, intelligent eyes, a tawney mane bushy and well kept, and a body like yellow plush.
She threatened to scratch my eyes out if I touched her.
Look at the kitten's intelligent eyes;" (here Eureka closed her eyes sleepily) "gaze at her smiling countenance!"
The caliph's eyes were filled with tears.
Andrew's gray eyes blazed as he stood up straight and proud before the haughty captain.
So, when I tell you we will see the end of war, if you are over thirty-five years of age, you have every reason to roll your eyes and tell me you have seen this movie before and aren't up for the sequel.
(Not to mention the fact that, if the stuff all hits the fan, widget factories like yours would almost certainly be marked with bull's-eyes on the enemy's aerial bombing maps.)
Curiously enough, the absence of eyes struck me more than all the other defects put together.
She raised my hand to her eyes in a questioning way, and I nodded energetically.
Then my eyes filled with tears; for I realized what I had done, and for the first time I felt repentance and sorrow.
My eyes fill with tears now as I think how my mother pressed me close to her, speechless and trembling with delight, taking in every syllable that I spoke, while little Mildred seized my free hand and kissed it and danced, and my father expressed his pride and affection in a big silence.
I rejoiced over all his successes, I shut my eyes to his faults, and wondered, not that he had them, but that they had not crushed or dwarfed his soul.
I could not follow with my eyes the geometrical figures drawn on the blackboard, and my only means of getting a clear idea of them was to make them on a cushion with straight and curved wires, which had bent and pointed ends.
So I try to make the light in others' eyes my sun, the music in others' ears my symphony, the smile on others' lips my happiness.
The perplexities, irritations and worries that have absorbed us pass like unpleasant dreams, and we wake to see with new eyes and hear with new ears the beauty and harmony of God's real world.
She can shut her eyes and bend her arms and sit down and stand up straight.
Her eyes are very big and blue, and her cheeks are soft and round and rosy and her hair is very bright and golden.
He has big brown eyes and long golden hair and pretty round cheeks.
The dress is blue like your eyes, and candy is sweet just like your dear little self.
I am not blind any longer, for I see with your eyes and hear with your ears.
Teacher's eyes have been hurting her so that she could not write to any one, and I have been trying to fulfil a promise which I made last summer.
But it is harder for Teacher than it is for me because the strain on her poor eyes is so great, and I cannot help worrying about them.
My teacher's eyes are no better: indeed, I think they grow more troublesome, though she is very brave and patient, and will not give up.
How I wish I had eyes to see them!
I have at least the satisfaction of seeing them through the eyes of my friends, which is a real pleasure.
Now her eyes are troubling her a great deal, and we all think she ought to be relieved, for a while, of every care and responsibility.
Still I could not shut my eyes to the force and weight of their arguments, and I saw plainly that I must abandon--'s scheme as impracticable.
Miss Sullivan, who knows her pupil's mind, selects from the passing landscape essential elements, which give a certain clearness to Miss Keller's imagined view of an outer world that to our eyes is confused and overloaded with particulars.
She does not see with her eyes, but through the inner faculty to serve which eyes were given to us.
My eyes are very much inflamed.
Helen noticed that the puppies' eyes were closed, and she said, "Eyes--shut. Sleep--no," meaning, "The eyes are shut, but the puppies are not asleep."
Helen noticed that the puppies' eyes were closed, and she said, "Eyes--shut. Sleep--no," meaning, "The eyes are shut, but the puppies are not asleep."
WE MAKE A SORT OF GAME OF IT and try to see who can find the words most quickly, Helen with her fingers, or I with my eyes, and she learns as many new words as I can explain with the help of those she knows.
It was amusing to see her hold it before her eyes and spell the sentences out on her fingers, just as I had done.
I told her that I could see things with my eyes, and that she could see them with her fingers.
After thinking a moment she said, "My eyes are bad!" then she changed it into "My eyes are sick!"
Her eyes actually were filled with tears.
When I told her that Santa Claus would not come until she was asleep, she shut her eyes and said, "He will think girl is asleep."
When I told her that Mildred's eyes were blue, she asked, "Are they like wee skies?"
I could see the way Ginger looked; all her beauty gone, her beautiful arched neck drooping, all the spirit gone out of her flashing eyes, all the playfulness gone out of her manner.
Now he found out that his father's words were true, for a few days of warm weather had turned the green balls into rosebuds, and they were SO beautiful that it was enough to make Birdie stand still before them, his blue eyes dancing with delight and his little hands clasped tightly together.
After awhile he went nearer, and looking closely at the buds, found that they were folded up, leaf over leaf, as eyelids are folded over sleeping eyes, so that Birdie thought they must be asleep.
I was a very happy little child with rosy cheeks, and large blue eyes, and the most beautiful golden ringlets you can imagine.
But the fever grew and flamed in my eyes, and for several days my kind physician thought I would die.
Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?
What man but a philosopher would not be ashamed to see his furniture packed in a cart and going up country exposed to the light of heaven and the eyes of men, a beggarly account of empty boxes?
I discovered many a site for a house not likely to be soon improved, which some might have thought too far from the village, but to my eyes the village was too far from it.
"Pray tell me anything new that has happened to a man anywhere on this globe"--and he reads it over his coffee and rolls, that a man has had his eyes gouged out this morning on the Wachito River; never dreaming the while that he lives in the dark unfathomed mammoth cave of this world, and has but the rudiment of an eye himself.
I hardly ever failed, when I rambled through the village, to see a row of such worthies, either sitting on a ladder sunning themselves, with their bodies inclined forward and their eyes glancing along the line this way and that, from time to time, with a voluptuous expression, or else leaning against a barn with their hands in their pockets, like caryatides, as if to prop it up.
In our most trivial walks, we are constantly, though unconsciously, steering like pilots by certain well-known beacons and headlands, and if we go beyond our usual course we still carry in our minds the bearing of some neighboring cape; and not till we are completely lost, or turned round--for a man needs only to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost--do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of nature.
Though the woodchoppers have laid bare first this shore and then that, and the Irish have built their sties by it, and the railroad has infringed on its border, and the ice-men have skimmed it once, it is itself unchanged, the same water which my youthful eyes fell on; all the change is in me.
You may even tread on them, or have your eyes on them for a minute, without discovering them.
The remarkably adult yet innocent expression of their open and serene eyes is very memorable.
I found that it was as well for me to rest on my oars and wait his reappearing as to endeavor to calculate where he would rise; for again and again, when I was straining my eyes over the surface one way, I would suddenly be startled by his unearthly laugh behind me.
The barberry's brilliant fruit was likewise food for my eyes merely; but I collected a small store of wild apples for coddling, which the proprietor and travellers had overlooked.
Little did the dusky children think that the puny slip with its two eyes only, which they stuck in the ground in the shadow of the house and daily watered, would root itself so, and outlive them, and house itself in the rear that shaded it, and grown man's garden and orchard, and tell their story faintly to the lone wanderer a half-century after they had grown up and died--blossoming as fair, and smelling as sweet, as in that first spring.
When I made most noise he would stretch out his neck, and erect his neck feathers, and open his eyes wide; but their lids soon fell again, and he began to nod.
I too felt a slumberous influence after watching him half an hour, as he sat thus with his eyes half open, like a cat, winged brother of the cat.
Its large eyes appeared young and unhealthy, almost dropsical.
I never chanced to see its kind in any market; it would be the cynosure of all eyes there.
The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us.
His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions.
He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face, kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned the whole company.
Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away.
Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm.
Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes as she passed him.
Prince Andrew's eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.
"I still can't understand what you are afraid of," said Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.
Her beautiful eyes glanced askance at her husband's face, and her own assumed the timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags its drooping tail.
Every muscle of his thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with brilliant light.
Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!"
One of the footmen who had stooped to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov's back.
Sonya was a slender little brunette with a tender look in her eyes which were veiled by long lashes, thick black plaits coiling twice round her head, and a tawny tint in her complexion and especially in the color of her slender but graceful and muscular arms and neck.
The little kitten, feasting her eyes on him, seemed ready at any moment to start her gambols again and display her kittenish nature.
The countess' eyes filled with tears and she pondered in silence.
The son, lowering his eyes, followed her quietly.
The eldest princess paused in her reading and silently stared at him with frightened eyes; the second assumed precisely the same expression; while the youngest, the one with the mole, who was of a cheerful and lively disposition, bent over her frame to hide a smile probably evoked by the amusing scene she foresaw.
She held a handkerchief to her eyes and her face was tearful.
With an effort Sonya sat up and began wiping her eyes and explaining.
The little kitten brightened, its eyes shone, and it seemed ready to lift its tail, jump down on its soft paws, and begin playing with the ball of worsted as a kitten should.
Natasha kept pulling everyone by sleeve or dress, urging them to "look at Papa!" though as it was they never took their eyes off the couple.
After sitting so for a while he rose, and, looking about him with frightened eyes, went with unusually hurried steps down the long corridor leading to the back of the house, to the room of the eldest princess.
The second princess had just come from the sickroom with her eyes red from weeping and sat down beside Dr. Lorrain, who was sitting in a graceful pose under a portrait of Catherine, leaning his elbow on a table.
His eyes too seemed strange; at one moment they looked impudently sly and at the next glanced round in alarm.
The princess, holding her little dog on her lap with her thin bony hands, looked attentively into Prince Vasili's eyes evidently resolved not to be the first to break silence, if she had to wait till morning.
Anna Mikhaylovna with just the same movement raised her shoulders and eyes, almost closing the latter, sighed, and moved away from the doctor to Pierre.
As soon as Anna Mikhaylovna had disappeared he noticed that the eyes of all in the room turned to him with something more than curiosity and sympathy.
He seemed to have grown thinner since the morning; his eyes seemed larger than usual when he glanced round and noticed Pierre.
Prince Vasili in front of the door, near the invalid chair, a wax taper in his left hand, was leaning his left arm on the carved back of a velvet chair he had turned round for the purpose, and was crossing himself with his right hand, turning his eyes upward each time he touched his forehead.
Either this look meant nothing but that as long as one has eyes they must look somewhere, or it meant too much.
Anna Mikhaylovna made a hurried sign with her eyes, glancing at the sick man's hand and moving her lips as if to send it a kiss.
Anna Mikhaylovna with her eyes indicated a chair that stood beside the bed.
Pierre obediently sat down, his eyes asking if he were doing right.
Anna Mikhaylovna looked attentively at the sick man's eyes, trying to guess what he wanted; she pointed first to Pierre, then to some drink, then named Prince Vasili in an inquiring whisper, then pointed to the quilt.
The eyes and face of the sick man showed impatience.
Her eyes, always sad, now looked with particular hopelessness at her reflection in the glass.
But the princess never saw the beautiful expression of her own eyes--the look they had when she was not thinking of herself.
The princess pondered awhile with a thoughtful smile and her luminous eyes lit up so that her face was entirely transformed.
The little princess had grown stouter during this time, but her eyes and her short, downy, smiling lip lifted when she began to speak just as merrily and prettily as ever.
Princess Mary had turned toward her brother, and through her tears the loving, warm, gentle look of her large luminous eyes, very beautiful at that moment, rested on Prince Andrew's face.
Princess Mary was still looking silently at her brother and her beautiful eyes were full of love and sadness.
The prince stood still; his lively glittering eyes from under their thick, bushy eyebrows sternly scanned all present and rested on the little princess.
"I'm glad, glad, to see you," he said, looking attentively into her eyes, and then quickly went to his place and sat down.
"Ho, ho!" said the old man, casting his eyes on her rounded figure.
"Countess Apraksina, poor thing, has lost her husband and she has cried her eyes out," she said, growing more and more lively.
Those eyes lit up the whole of her thin, sickly face and made it beautiful.
His fine eyes lit up with a thoughtful, kindly, and unaccustomed brightness, but he was looking not at his sister but over her head toward the darkness of the open doorway.
He said nothing to her but looked at her forehead and hair, without looking at her eyes, with such contempt that the Frenchwoman blushed and went away without a word.
The old prince stopped writing and, as if not understanding, fixed his stern eyes on his son.
He seized his son by the hand with small bony fingers, shook it, looked straight into his son's face with keen eyes which seemed to see through him, and again laughed his frigid laugh.
The old man's sharp eyes were fixed straight on his son's.
Princess Mary, supporting her sister-in-law, still looked with her beautiful eyes full of tears at the door through which Prince Andrew had gone and made the sign of the cross in his direction.
Dolokhov slowly straightened his bent knee, looking straight with his clear, insolent eyes in the general's face.
The eyes of the general and the soldier met.
This hussar, with a grave face and without a smile or a change in the expression of his fixed eyes, watched the regimental commander's back and mimicked his every movement.
Kutuzov walked slowly and languidly past thousands of eyes which were starting from their sockets to watch their chief.
The shapely figure of the fair-haired soldier, with his clear blue eyes, stepped forward from the ranks, went up to the commander in chief, and presented arms.
The same smile of the eyes with which he had turned from Captain Timokhin again flitted over his face.
Then wrinkles ran over his face like a wave and his forehead became smooth again, he bowed his head respectfully, closed his eyes, silently let Mack enter his room before him, and closed the door himself behind him.
He screwed up his eyes showing that he was listening.
Denisov was a small man with a red face, sparkling black eyes, and black tousled mustache and hair.
Then he remained silent for a while, and all at once looked cheerfully with his glittering, black eyes at Rostov.
The lieutenant never looked the man he was speaking to straight in the face; his eyes continually wandered from one object to another.
Rostov felt Denisov's gaze fixed on him, raised his eyes, and instantly dropped them again.
Rostov, his eyes avoiding Denisov, began buttoning his coat, buckled on his saber, and put on his cap.
But Rostov pulled away his arm and, with as much anger as though Denisov were his worst enemy, firmly fixed his eyes directly on his face.
With shifting eyes but eyebrows still raised, Telyanin handed him the purse.
Every muscle of Telyanin's pale, terrified face began to quiver, his eyes still shifted from side to side but with a downward look not rising to Rostov's face, and his sobs were audible.
Rostov took the money, avoiding Telyanin's eyes, and went out of the room without a word.
Denisov remained silent and did not move, but occasionally looked with his glittering black eyes at Rostov.
He pointed with a smile to a turreted nunnery, and his eyes narrowed and gleamed.
The eyes of all the soldiers turned toward the women, and while the vehicle was passing at foot pace all the soldiers' remarks related to the two young ones.
The German closed his eyes, signifying that he did not understand.
Nesvitski like the rest of the men on the bridge did not take his eyes off the women till they had passed.
"Tell these devils, these fiends, to let me pass!" shouted Denisov evidently in a fit of rage, his coal-black eyes with their bloodshot whites glittering and rolling as he waved his sheathed saber in a small bare hand as red as his face.
His face with its long mustache was serious as always, only his eyes were brighter than usual.
As soon as he closed his eyes his ears seemed filled with the rattle of the wheels and the sensation of victory.
Only his eyes gleamed feverishly and his thoughts followed one another with extraordinary clearness and rapidity.
He went on reading to the end, without raising his eyes at the opening of the door and the sound of footsteps.
His small, deep-set eyes always twinkled and looked out straight.
Prince Andrew smiled involuntarily as he looked at the artillery officer Tushin, who silent and smiling, shifting from one stockinged foot to the other, glanced inquiringly with his large, intelligent, kindly eyes from Prince Andrew to the staff officer.
His eyes ran rapidly over the wide space, but he only saw that the hitherto motionless masses of the French now swayed and that there really was a battery to their left.
Prince Bagration screwed up his eyes, looked round, and, seeing the cause of the confusion, turned away with indifference, as if to say, "Is it worth while noticing trifles?"
The short, round- shouldered Captain Tushin, stumbling over the tail of the gun carriage, moved forward and, not noticing the general, looked out shading his eyes with his small hand.
Prince Bagration turned to the officer and with his dull eyes looked at him in silence.
The commander of the regiment, a thin, feeble-looking old man with a pleasant smile--his eyelids drooping more than half over his old eyes, giving him a mild expression, rode up to Bagration and welcomed him as a host welcomes an honored guest.
He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and his half-closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words.
All eyes fastened involuntarily on this French column advancing against them and winding down over the uneven ground.
A morose soldier marching on the left turned his eyes on Bagration as he shouted, with an expression that seemed to say: "We know that ourselves!"
Rostov closed his eyes and stooped down.
The soldier was pale, his blue eyes looked impudently into the commander's face, and his lips were smiling.
Little Tushin, moving feebly and awkwardly, kept telling his orderly to "refill my pipe for that one!" and then, scattering sparks from it, ran forward shading his eyes with his small hand to look at the French.
He kept closing his eyes and then again looking at the fire, which seemed to him dazzlingly red, and at the feeble, round-shouldered figure of Tushin who was sitting cross-legged like a Turk beside him.
Tushin's large, kind, intelligent eyes were fixed with sympathy and commiseration on Rostov, who saw that Tushin with his whole heart wished to help him but could not.
How was it that two guns were abandoned in the center? he inquired, searching with his eyes for someone.
He was afraid of getting some other officer into trouble, and silently fixed his eyes on Bagration as a schoolboy who has blundered looks at an examiner.
Irresistible drowsiness overpowered him, red rings danced before his eyes, and the impression of those voices and faces and a sense of loneliness merged with the physical pain.
For a moment he dozed, but in that short interval innumerable things appeared to him in a dream: his mother and her large white hand, Sonya's thin little shoulders, Natasha's eyes and laughter, Denisov with his voice and mustache, and Telyanin and all that affair with Telyanin and Bogdanich.
He opened his eyes and looked up.
Prince Vasili mimicked the sobbing of Sergey Kuzmich and at the same time his eyes glanced toward his daughter, and while he laughed the expression on his face clearly said: "Yes... it's getting on, it will all be settled today."
Anna Pavlovna threatened him on behalf of "our dear Vyazmitinov," and in her eyes, which, for an instant, glanced at Pierre, Prince Vasili read a congratulation on his future son-in-law and on his daughter's happiness.
He closed his eyes and seemed to be dozing.
The prince turned round to the overseer and fixed his eyes on him, frowning.
Her cheeks had sunk, her lip was drawn up, and her eyes drawn down.
She flushed, her beautiful eyes grew dim, red blotches came on her face, and it took on the unattractive martyrlike expression it so often wore, as she submitted herself to Mademoiselle Bourienne and Lise.
They looked at the beautiful, large, thoughtful eyes full of tears and of thoughts, gazing shiningly and imploringly at them, and understood that it was useless and even cruel to insist.
Letting her arms fall helplessly, she sat with downcast eyes and pondered.
But Anatole's expression, though his eyes were fixed on her, referred not to her but to the movements of Mademoiselle Bourienne's little foot, which he was then touching with his own under the clavichord.
Can it be possible? she thought, not daring to look at his face, but still feeling his eyes gazing at her.
And don't I see that that idiot had eyes only for Bourienne--I shall have to get rid of her.
She raised her eyes, and two steps away saw Anatole embracing the Frenchwoman and whispering something to her.
The princess' beautiful eyes with all their former calm radiance were looking with tender affection and pity at Mademoiselle Bourienne's pretty face.
Anna Mikhaylovna sat down beside him, with her own handkerchief wiped the tears from his eyes and from the letter, then having dried her own eyes she comforted the count, and decided that at dinner and till teatime she would prepare the countess, and after tea, with God's help, would inform her.
Him--I just shut my eyes and remember, but Boris...
Natasha looked at Sonya with wondering and inquisitive eyes, and said nothing.
On retiring to her own room, she sat in an armchair, her eyes fixed on a miniature portrait of her son on the lid of a snuffbox, while the tears kept coming into her eyes.
When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped down on the floor.
After reading a few lines, he glanced angrily at Berg, then, meeting his eyes, hid his face behind the letter.
He looked intently and inquiringly into his friend's eyes, evidently trying in vain to find the answer to some question.
Again Rostov looked intently into Boris' eyes and sighed.
"Yes, stories!" repeated Rostov loudly, looking with eyes suddenly grown furious, now at Boris, now at Bolkonski.
One voice was heard shouting: "Eyes front!"
When he entered, Prince Andrew, his eyes drooping contemptuously (with that peculiar expression of polite weariness which plainly says, "If it were not my duty I would not talk to you for a moment"), was listening to an old Russian general with decorations, who stood very erect, almost on tiptoe, with a soldier's obsequious expression on his purple face, reporting something.
Casually, while surveying the squadron, the Emperor's eyes met Rostov's and rested on them for not more than two seconds.
The Emperor, surrounded by his suite of officers and courtiers, was riding a bobtailed chestnut mare, a different one from that which he had ridden at the review, and bending to one side he gracefully held a gold lorgnette to his eyes and looked at a soldier who lay prone, with blood on his uncovered head.
Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor's eyes and heard him, as he was riding away, say to Czartoryski: What a terrible thing war is: what a terrible thing!
Exactly opposite Weyrother, with his glistening wide-open eyes fixed upon him and his mustache twisted upwards, sat the ruddy Miloradovich in a military pose, his elbows turned outwards, his hands on his knees, and his shoulders raised.
He remained stubbornly silent, gazing at Weyrother's face, and only turned away his eyes when the Austrian chief of staff finished reading.
Langeron lifted his eyes with an expression of perplexity, turned round to Miloradovich as if seeking an explanation, but meeting the latter's impressive but meaningless gaze drooped his eyes sadly and again took to twirling his snuffbox.
At the moment he opened his eyes he heard in front of him, where the enemy was, the long-drawn shouts of thousands of voices.
The smoke of the campfires, into which they were throwing everything superfluous, made the eyes smart.
His gleaming eyes were fixed intently on one spot.
The Emperor was pale, his cheeks sunken and his eyes hollow, but the charm, the mildness of his features, was all the greater.
Looking into Napoleon's eyes Prince Andrew thought of the insignificance of greatness, the unimportance of life which no one could understand, and the still greater unimportance of death, the meaning of which no one alive could understand or explain.
Sonya too, all rosy red, clung to his arm and, radiant with bliss, looked eagerly toward his eyes, waiting for the look for which she longed.
She gazed at him, not taking her eyes off him, and smiling and holding her breath.
Denisov, who had come into the room unnoticed by anyone, stood there and wiped his eyes at the sight.
The old countess, not letting go of his hand and kissing it every moment, sat beside him: the rest, crowding round him, watched every movement, word, or look of his, never taking their blissfully adoring eyes off him.
Rostov, rubbing his eyes that seemed glued together, raised his disheveled head from the hot pillow.
Sitting on the sofa with the little cushions on its arms, in what used to be his old schoolroom, and looking into Natasha's wildly bright eyes, Rostov re-entered that world of home and childhood which had no meaning for anyone else, but gave him some of the best joys of his life; and the burning of an arm with a ruler as a proof of love did not seem to him senseless, he understood and was not surprised at it.
But their eyes met and said thou, and exchanged tender kisses.
Anna Mikhaylovna turned up her eyes, and profound sadness was depicted on her face.
But all eyes demanded that he should submit.
Bagration seemed to say, and, fixing his weary eyes on the paper, began to read them with a fixed and serious expression.
"To the health of our Sovereign, the Emperor!" he cried, and at the same moment his kindly eyes grew moist with tears of joy and enthusiasm.
The old count rose once more, glanced at a note lying beside his plate, and proposed a toast, "To the health of the hero of our last campaign, Prince Peter Ivanovich Bagration!" and again his blue eyes grew moist.
Every time he chanced to meet Dolokhov's handsome insolent eyes, Pierre felt something terrible and monstrous rising in his soul and turned quickly away.
Rostov looked inimically at Pierre, first because Pierre appeared to his hussar eyes as a rich civilian, the husband of a beauty, and in a word--an old woman; and secondly because Pierre in his preoccupation and absent-mindedness had not recognized Rostov and had not responded to his greeting.
Pierre, with downcast eyes, drank out of his glass without looking at Dolokhov or answering him.
He looked about distractedly and screwed up his eyes as if dazzled by the sun.
Dolokhov walked slowly without raising his pistol, looking intently with his bright, sparkling blue eyes into his antagonist's face.
He sucked and swallowed the cold snow, his lips quivered but his eyes, still smiling, glittered with effort and exasperation as he mustered his remaining strength.
Pierre wished to say something, looked at her with eyes whose strange expression she did not understand, and lay down again.
"Your son," wrote Kutuzov, "fell before my eyes, a standard in his hand and at the head of a regiment--he fell as a hero, worthy of his father and his fatherland.
Her eyes grew dim.
It was evident that her eyes did not see Princess Mary but were looking within... into herself... at something joyful and mysterious taking place within her.
Her eyes were smiling expectantly, her downy lip rose and remained lifted in childlike happiness.
"Nothing," answered Princess Mary, looking firmly with her radiant eyes at her sister-in-law.
"Mary Bogdanovna, I think it's beginning!" said Princess Mary looking at the midwife with wide-open eyes of alarm.
Her glittering eyes, filled with childlike fear and excitement, rested on him without changing their expression.
She was lying dead, in the same position he had seen her in five minutes before and, despite the fixed eyes and the pallor of the cheeks, the same expression was on her charming childlike face with its upper lip covered with tiny black hair.
Denisov did not take his eyes off her and beat time with his saber in a way that clearly indicated that if he was not dancing it was because he would not and not because he could not.
She fixed her eyes on him in amazement, smiling as if she did not recognize him.
Dolokhov was no longer listening to stories or telling them, but followed every movement of Rostov's hands and occasionally ran his eyes over the score against him.
"I say, Rostov," said Dolokhov clearly, smiling and looking Nicholas straight in the eyes, "you know the saying, 'Lucky in love, unlucky at cards.'
Denisov, with sparkling eyes and ruffled hair, sat at the clavichord striking chords with his short fingers, his legs thrown back and his eyes rolling as he sang, with his small, husky, but true voice, some verses called "Enchantress," which he had composed, and to which he was trying to fit music:
Sonya's eyes fixed on him seemed to ask.
Natasha took the first note, her throat swelled, her chest rose, her eyes became serious.
The old count cast down his eyes on hearing his son's words and began bustlingly searching for something.
"Countess..." said Denisov, with downcast eyes and a guilty face.
The newcomer was a short, large-boned, yellow-faced, wrinkled old man, with gray bushy eyebrows overhanging bright eyes of an indefinite grayish color.
When everything was ready, the stranger opened his eyes, moved to the table, filled a tumbler with tea for himself and one for the beardless old man to whom he passed it.
All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and again, leaning with his arms on the back of the sofa, sat in his former position with his eyes shut.
Pierre looked at him and had not time to turn away when the old man, opening his eyes, fixed his steady and severe gaze straight on Pierre's face.
Pierre felt confused and wished to avoid that look, but the bright old eyes attracted him irresistibly.
Pierre listened with swelling heart, gazing into the Mason's face with shining eyes, not interrupting or questioning him, but believing with his whole soul what the stranger said.
Look then at thy inner self with the eyes of the spirit, and ask thyself whether thou art content with thyself.
"When you hear a knock at the door, you will uncover your eyes," added Willarski.
The five minutes spent with his eyes bandaged seemed to him an hour.
Pierre took the bandage off his eyes and glanced around him.
The bandage was taken off his eyes and, by the faint light of the burning spirit, Pierre, as in a dream, saw several men standing before him, wearing aprons like the Rhetor's and holding swords in their hands pointed at his breast.
Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his shortsighted eyes without obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind.
Pierre himself grew still more confused, blushed like a child till tears came to his eyes, began looking about him uneasily, and an awkward pause followed.
He finished and, getting up, embraced and kissed Pierre, who, with tears of joy in his eyes, looked round him, not knowing how to answer the congratulations and greetings from acquaintances that met him on all sides.
But consider the position in which you are placing her and me in the eyes of society, and even of the court, he added, lowering his voice.
"You know her husband, of course?" said Anna Pavlovna, closing her eyes and indicating Helene with a sorrowful gesture.
But he scowled at her angrily though also with suffering in his eyes, and stooped glass in hand over the infant.
At first Prince Andrew read with his eyes only, but after a while, in spite of himself (although he knew how far it was safe to trust Bilibin), what he had read began to interest him more and more.
He shut his eyes, rubbed his forehead as if to rid himself of all interest in what he had read, and listened to what was passing in the nursery.
He drew the curtain aside and for some time his frightened, restless eyes could not find the baby.
In the dim shadow of the curtain her luminous eyes shone more brightly than usual from the tears of joy that were in them.
On all his estates Pierre saw with his own eyes brick buildings erected or in course of erection, all on one plan, for hospitals, schools, and almshouses, which were soon to be opened.
His eyes glittered feverishly while he tried to prove to Pierre that in his actions there was no desire to do good to his neighbor.
Prince Andrew stood leaning on the railing of the raft listening to Pierre, and he gazed with his eyes fixed on the red reflection of the sun gleaming on the blue waters.
She looked at him with her beautiful radiant eyes and seemed to say, "I like you very much, but please don't laugh at my people."
The old woman, lowering her eyes but casting side glances at the newcomers, had turned her cup upside down and placed a nibbled bit of sugar beside it, and sat quietly in her armchair, though hoping to be offered another cup of tea.
Ivanushka, sipping out of her saucer, looked with sly womanish eyes from under her brows at the young men.
And I saw with my own eyes how Lazarchuk bwought some fwom the fields.
The next day the regimental commander sent for Denisov, and holding his fingers spread out before his eyes said:
His face was purple, his eyes were rolled back so that only the whites were seen, and on his bare legs and arms which were still red, the veins stood out like cords.
"Good day, your honor!" he shouted, rolling his eyes at Rostov and evidently mistaking him for one of the hospital authorities.
"Yes, your honor," the soldier replied complacently, and rolling his eyes more than ever he drew himself up still straighter, but did not move.
Close to the corner, on an overcoat, sat an old, unshaven, gray-bearded soldier as thin as a skeleton, with a stern sallow face and eyes intently fixed on Rostov.
His pale waxen face was still freckled and his eyes were rolled back.
His eyes, looking serenely and steadily at Rostov, seemed to be veiled by something, as if screened by blue spectacles of conventionality.
Boris, with one leg crossed over the other and stroking his left hand with the slender fingers of his right, listened to Rostov as a general listens to the report of a subordinate, now looking aside and now gazing straight into Rostov's eyes with the same veiled look.
In spite of the trampling of the French gendarmes' horses, which were pushing back the crowd, Rostov kept his eyes on every movement of Alexander and Bonaparte.
Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the window ledge and his eyes rested on that sky.
Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man of forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep wrinkles, scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an overhanging red nose.
Arakcheev's eyes turned toward him.
Speranski did not shift his eyes from one face to another as people involuntarily do on entering a large company and was in no hurry to speak.
When Kochubey introduced Prince Andrew, Speranski slowly turned his eyes to Bolkonski with his customary smile and looked at him in silence.
Closing his eyes, he bowed a la francaise, without taking leave, and trying to attract as little attention as possible, he left the room.
In Prince Andrew's eyes Speranski was the man he would himself have wished to be--one who explained all the facts of life reasonably, considered important only what was rational, and was capable of applying the standard of reason to everything.
And tears came into my eyes, and I was glad he noticed this.
The same inquisitive, challenging, and rather mocking eyes still looked at him.
But, fortunately for her, she felt her eyes growing misty, she saw nothing clearly, her pulse beat a hundred to the minute, and the blood throbbed at her heart.
The host also followed Natasha with his eyes and asked the count which was his daughter.
She stood with her slender arms hanging down, her scarcely defined bosom rising and falling regularly, and with bated breath and glittering, frightened eyes gazed straight before her, evidently prepared for the height of joy or misery.
The Emperor said that the fiscal system must be reorganized and the accounts published, recounted Bitski, emphasizing certain words and opening his eyes significantly.
"I... but no, I will talk to you later on," and with a strange light in his eyes and restlessness in his movements, Prince Andrew approached Natasha and sat down beside her.
The countess looked with sad and sternly serious eyes at Prince Andrew when he talked to Natasha and timidly started some artificial conversation about trifles as soon as he looked her way.
The countess lowered her eyes, sighing deeply.
Natasha glanced with frightened imploring eyes at Prince Andrew and at her mother and went out.
Prince Andrew held her hands, looked into her eyes, and did not find in his heart his former love for her.
Then with no less fear and delight they saw how the young count, red in the face and with bloodshot eyes, dragged Mitenka out by the scruff of the neck and applied his foot and knee to his behind with great agility at convenient moments between the words, shouting, Be off!
Milka, a black-spotted, broad-haunched bitch with prominent black eyes, got up on seeing her master, stretched her hind legs, lay down like a hare, and then suddenly jumped up and licked him right on his nose and mustache.
"What orders, your excellency?" said the huntsman in his deep bass, deep as a proto-deacon's and hoarse with hallooing--and two flashing black eyes gazed from under his brows at his master, who was silent.
"Can you resist it?" those eyes seemed to be asking.
He cast down his eyes and hurried out as if it were none of his business, careful as he went not to inflict any accidental injury on the young lady.
Natasha, muffled up in shawls which did not hide her eager face and shining eyes, galloped up to them.
His eyes were rather moist and glittered more than usual, and as he sat in his saddle, wrapped up in his fur coat, he looked like a child taken out for an outing.
The count turned and saw on his right Mitka staring at him with eyes starting out of his head, raising his cap and pointing before him to the other side.
When he caught sight of the count his eyes flashed lightning.
"Only once in my life to get an old wolf, I want only that!" thought he, straining eyes and ears and looking to the left and then to the right and listening to the slightest variation of note in the cries of the dogs.
The height of happiness was reached--and so simply, without warning, or noise, or display, that Rostov could not believe his eyes and remained in doubt for over a second.
Suddenly the wolf's whole physiognomy changed: she shuddered, seeing what she had probably never seen before--human eyes fixed upon her--and turning her head a little toward Rostov, she paused.
The huntsmen assembled with their booty and their stories, and all came to look at the wolf, which, with her broad-browed head hanging down and the bitten stick between her jaws, gazed with great glassy eyes at this crowd of dogs and men surrounding her.
One of his eyes was black, but he probably was not even aware of it.
Only the delighted "Uncle" dismounted, and cut off a pad, shaking the hare for the blood to drip off, and anxiously glancing round with restless eyes while his arms and legs twitched.
Several times the countess, with tears in her eyes, told her son that now both her daughters were settled, her only wish was to see him married.
I want him! said Natasha, with glittering eyes and no sign of a smile.
Her voice broke, tears gushed from her eyes, and she turned quickly to hide them and left the room.
She sat behind the bookcase with her eyes fixed on a streak of light escaping from the pantry door and listened to herself and pondered.
Nicholas did not take his eyes off his sister and drew breath in time with her.
It was so light that he could see the moonlight reflected from the metal harness disks and from the eyes of the horses, who looked round in alarm at the noisy party under the shadow of the porch roof.
"Ah! ah!" screamed Natasha, rolling her eyes with horror.
"Of course she will!" whispered Natasha, but did not finish... suddenly Sonya pushed away the glass she was holding and covered her eyes with her hand.
Is he ill? asked Natasha, her frightened eyes fixed on her friend.
Sonya listened silently with downcast eyes to the countess' cruel words, without understanding what was required of her.
Every sphere of work was connected, in his eyes, with evil and deception.
Don't let me set eyes on you; beg her pardon!
At first she heard only Metivier's voice, then her father's, then both voices began speaking at the same time, the door was flung open, and on the threshold appeared the handsome figure of the terrified Metivier with his shock of black hair, and the prince in his dressing gown and fez, his face distorted with fury and the pupils of his eyes rolled downwards.
He checked himself in the middle of the sentence, lowered his eyes to avoid seeing her unpleasantly irritated and irresolute face, and said:
Her irritability had suddenly quite vanished, and her anxious, imploring eyes were fixed on him with greedy expectation.
He blushed hotly, raised his eyes to hers, and said:
God is my witness, I didn't know-" he repeated, stressing the word "God" so unnaturally and so unpleasantly that Princess Mary stood with downcast eyes not daring to look either at her father or at Natasha.
I would not be silly and afraid of things, I would simply embrace him, cling to him, and make him look at me with those searching inquiring eyes with which he has so often looked at me, and then I would make him laugh as he used to laugh.
And his eyes--how I see those eyes! thought Natasha.
A sensation she had not experienced for a long time--that of hundreds of eyes looking at her bare arms and neck--suddenly affected her both agreeably and disagreeably and called up a whole crowd of memories, desires and emotions associated with that feeling.
Her black eyes looked at the crowd without seeking anyone, and her delicate arm, bare to above the elbow, lay on the velvet edge of the box, while, evidently unconsciously, she opened and closed her hand in time to the music, crumpling her program.
While Natasha was fixing her gaze on her for the second time the lady looked round and, meeting the count's eyes, nodded to him and smiled.
She turned and their eyes met.
Almost smiling, he gazed straight into her eyes with such an enraptured caressing look that it seemed strange to be so near him, to look at him like that, to be so sure he admired her, and not to be acquainted with him.
"Let me introduce my brother to you," said Helene, her eyes shifting uneasily from Natasha to Anatole.
While saying this he never removed his smiling eyes from her face, her neck, and her bare arms.
But looking into his eyes she was frightened, realizing that there was not that barrier of modesty she had always felt between herself and other men.
Natasha kept turning to Helene and to her father, as if asking what it all meant, but Helene was engaged in conversation with a general and did not answer her look, and her father's eyes said nothing but what they always said: Having a good time?
During one of these moments of awkward silence when Anatole's prominent eyes were gazing calmly and fixedly at her, Natasha, to break the silence, asked him how he liked Moscow.
She looked straight into his eyes, and his nearness, self-assurance, and the good- natured tenderness of his smile vanquished her.
He was looking at her with glittering eyes, smiling tenderly.
Natasha lifted her frightened eyes to him, but there was such confident tenderness in his affectionate look and smile that she could not, whilst looking at him, say what she had to say.
Natasha, animated and excited, looked about her with wide-open frightened eyes and seemed merrier than usual.
Wherever she went and whomever she was speaking to, she felt his eyes upon her.
His large, glittering, masculine eyes were so close to hers that she saw nothing but them.
I have nothing to say, her eyes replied.
Natasha kept looking uneasily at everybody with wide-open eyes, as if wishing to intercept every glance directed toward her, and tried to appear the same as usual.
Natasha looked at Sonya with wide-open eyes as if she could not grasp the question.
Dolokhov with a cold smile and a gleam in his handsome insolent eyes looked at him--evidently wishing to get some more amusement out of him.
Balaga was a fair-haired, short, and snub-nosed peasant of about twenty- seven; red-faced, with a particularly red thick neck, glittering little eyes, and a small beard.
The driver's eyes sparkled at the sight of the wine.
Her eyes were dry and glistening, her lips compressed, her cheeks sunken.
But Natasha was not asleep; with pale face and fixed wide-open eyes she looked straight before her.
With compressed and parched lips and dry fixed eyes, she sat at the window, uneasily watching the people who drove past and hurriedly glancing round at anyone who entered the room.
Natasha, pale and stern, was sitting beside Marya Dmitrievna, and her eyes, glittering feverishly, met Pierre with a questioning look the moment he entered.
"Natalya Ilynichna," Pierre began, dropping his eyes with a feeling of pity for her and loathing for the thing he had to do, "whether it is true or not should make no difference to you, because..."
She stopped, seeing in the forward thrust of her husband's head, in his glowing eyes and his resolute gait, the terrible indications of that rage and strength which she knew and had herself experienced after his duel with Dolokhov.
They tried to make their way forward to the opposite bank and, though there was a ford one third of a mile away, were proud that they were swimming and drowning in this river under the eyes of the man who sat on the log and was not even looking at what they were doing.
Boris understood that this was meant for him and, closing his eyes, slightly bowed his head.
He glanced with his large eyes into Balashav's face and immediately looked past him.
The Emperor, my master... but the sight of the Emperor's eyes bent on him confused him.
During the speech that followed, Balashev, who more than once lowered his eyes, involuntarily noticed the quivering of Napoleon's left leg which increased the more Napoleon raised his voice.
Balashev stood with downcast eyes, looking at the movements of Napoleon's stout legs and trying to avoid meeting his eyes.
He paused, looked ironically straight into Balashev's eyes, and said in a quiet voice:
His face was much wrinkled and his eyes deep set.
Prince Andrew's eyes were still following Pfuel out of the room when Count Bennigsen entered hurriedly, and nodding to Bolkonski, but not pausing, went into the study, giving instructions to his adjutant as he went.
But now, at the commencement of the campaign, I should feel dishonored, not only in my comrades' eyes but in my own, if I preferred my own happiness to my love and duty to the Fatherland.
As soon as he had left the room all the officers burst into loud laughter and Mary Hendrikhovna blushed till her eyes filled with tears and thereby became still more attractive to them.
A captain, standing beside him, was gazing like himself with eyes fixed on the cavalry below them.
Rostov reined in his horse, and his eyes sought his foe to see whom he had vanquished.
His eyes, screwed up with fear as if he every moment expected another blow, gazed up at Rostov with shrinking terror.
His pale and mud-stained face--fair and young, with a dimple in the chin and light-blue eyes--was not an enemy's face at all suited to a battlefield, but a most ordinary, homelike face.
He hurriedly but vainly tried to get his foot out of the stirrup and did not remove his frightened blue eyes from Rostov's face.
The countess looked round several times at her daughter's softened face and shining eyes and prayed God to help her.
"Count, is it wrong of me to sing?" she said blushing, and fixing her eyes inquiringly on him.
Tears suddenly rose in her eyes, she turned away, lifted her music before her eyes, began singing again, and again began walking up and down the room.
The count listened with closed eyes, heaving abrupt sighs at certain passages.
Pierre felt her eyes on him and tried not to look round.
Natasha's unwontedly brilliant eyes, continually glancing at him with a more than cordial look, had reduced him to this condition.
But in spite of this he continued to struggle desperately forward, and from between the backs of those in front he caught glimpses of an open space with a strip of red cloth spread out on it; but just then the crowd swayed back--the police in front were pushing back those who had pressed too close to the procession: the Emperor was passing from the palace to the Cathedral of the Assumption--and Petya unexpectedly received such a blow on his side and ribs and was squeezed so hard that suddenly everything grew dim before his eyes and he lost consciousness.
Petya's eyes grew bloodshot, and still more excited by the danger of being crushed, he rushed at the biscuits.
At that moment Count Rostopchin with his protruding chin and alert eyes, wearing the uniform of a general with sash over his shoulder, entered the room, stepping briskly to the front of the crowd of gentry.
As became known later, he had scarcely begun to address the merchants before tears gushed from his eyes and he concluded in a trembling voice.
Tears filled the thin man's eyes, and the fat otkupshchik sobbed outright like a child and kept repeating:
On moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess Mary and, spreading out before him the plan of the new building and fixing his eyes upon it, told her to read the letter aloud.
I?... said the prince as if unpleasantly awakened, and not taking his eyes from the plan of the building.
When Michael Ivanovich returned to the study with the letter, the old prince, with spectacles on and a shade over his eyes, was sitting at his open bureau with screened candles, holding a paper in his outstretched hand, and in a somewhat dramatic attitude was reading his manuscript-- his "Remarks" as he termed it--which was to be transmitted to the Emperor after his death.
He sat down, sank into thought, closed his eyes, and dozed off.
Some of this dust was kneaded by the feet and wheels, while the rest rose and hung like a cloud over the troops, settling in eyes, ears, hair, and nostrils, and worst of all in the lungs of the men and beasts as they moved along that road.
But when Napoleon asked him whether the Russians thought they would beat Bonaparte or not, Lavrushka screwed up his eyes and considered.
"As soon as Napoleon's interpreter had spoken," says Thiers, "the Cossack, seized by amazement, did not utter another word, but rode on, his eyes fixed on the conqueror whose fame had reached him across the steppes of the East.
When she changed her position so that his left eye could see her face he calmed down, not taking his eyes off her for some seconds.
The comic efforts with which he moved his tongue made her drop her eyes and with difficulty repress the sobs that rose to her throat.
He closed his eyes and remained silent a long time.
His sobs ceased, he pointed to his eyes, and Tikhon, understanding him, wiped away the tears.
Then he again opened his eyes and said something none of them could understand for a long time, till at last Tikhon understood and repeated it.
Just as horses shy and snort and gather about a dead horse, so the inmates of the house and strangers crowded into the drawing room round the coffin--the Marshal, the village Elder, peasant women--and all with fixed and frightened eyes, crossing themselves, bowed and kissed the old prince's cold and stiffened hand.
But on hearing the order Dron lowered his eyes and remained silent.
Neither could the architect Michael Ivanovich, who on being sent for came in with sleepy eyes, tell Princess Mary anything.
Princess Mary lowered her eyes and, tripping over her skirt, came close up to them.
So many different eyes, old and young, were fixed on her, and there were so many different faces, that she could not distinguish any of them and, feeling that she must speak to them all at once, did not know how to do it.
All eyes were gazing at her with one and the same expression.
With wide-open eyes she gazed at the moonlight and the shadows, expecting every moment to see his dead face, and she felt that the silence brooding over the house and within it held her fast.
His kind, honest eyes, with the tears rising in them when she herself had begun to cry as she spoke of her loss, did not leave her memory.
When she had taken leave of him and remained alone she suddenly felt her eyes filling with tears, and then not for the first time the strange question presented itself to her: did she love him?
He pulled himself together, looked round, screwing up his eyes, glanced at Prince Andrew, and, evidently not recognizing him, moved with his waddling gait to the porch.
Kutuzov looked at him with eyes wide open with dismay and then took off his cap and crossed himself:
He screwed up his eyes, smiled, lifted her chin with his hand, and said:
"Ah... a wonderful, a matchless people!" said Kutuzov; and he closed his eyes and swayed his head.
With tears in his eyes Dolokhov embraced Pierre and kissed him.
As he said this his eyes and face expressed more than coldness--they expressed hostility, which Pierre noticed at once.
"Yes, yes," muttered Pierre, looking with shining eyes at Prince Andrew.
He paced up and down a few times in silence, but his eyes glittered feverishly and his lips quivered as he began speaking.
His eyes grew dim, he moved forward, glanced round at a chair (which seemed to place itself under him), and sat down on it before the portrait.
De Beausset closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sighed deeply, to indicate how profoundly he valued and comprehended the Emperor's words.
A cannon ball struck the very end of the earth work by which he was standing, crumbling down the earth; a black ball flashed before his eyes and at the same instant plumped into something.
The officer's face was red and perspiring and his eyes glittered under his frowning brow.
For some seconds they gazed with frightened eyes at one another's unfamiliar faces and both were perplexed at what they had done and what they were to do next.
The sun had risen brightly and its slanting rays struck straight into Napoleon's face as, shading his eyes with his hand, he looked at the fleches.
In the midst of this conversation, which was beginning to interest Napoleon, Berthier's eyes turned to look at a general with a suite, who was galloping toward the knoll on a lathering horse.
All their faces looked dejected, and they all shunned one another's eyes--only a de Beausset could fail to grasp the meaning of what was happening.
Kutuzov was chewing a piece of roast chicken with difficulty and glanced at Wolzogen with eyes that brightened under their puckering lids.
Prince Andrew opened his eyes and looked up at the speaker from the stretcher into which his head had sunk deep and again his eyelids drooped.
Prince Andrew opened his eyes and for a long time could not make out what was going on around him.
"We kicked him out from there so that he chucked everything, we grabbed the King himself!" cried he, looking around him with eyes that glittered with fever.
Like all the others near the speaker, Prince Andrew looked at him with shining eyes and experienced a sense of comfort.
As soon as Prince Andrew opened his eyes, the doctor bent over, kissed him silently on the lips, and hurried away.
He rode hurriedly from the battlefield and returned to the Shevardino knoll, where he sat on his campstool, his sallow face swollen and heavy, his eyes dim, his nose red, and his voice hoarse, involuntarily listening, with downcast eyes, to the sounds of firing.
His broad head with its bold features and glittering eyes was resting on his hand.
His glance met Malasha's, and the expression of his eyes caused the little girl to smile.
All eyes were gazing at him.
Malasha, who kept her eyes fixed on what was going on before her, understood the meaning of the council differently.
Helene was touched, and more than once tears rose to her eyes and to those of Monsieur de Jobert and their voices trembled.
Filled with fright he opened his eyes and lifted his head from under his cloak.
For a moment as he was rearranging his cloak Pierre opened his eyes and saw the same penthouse roofs, posts, and yard, but now they were all bluish, lit up, and glittering with frost or dew.
Pierre turned away with repugnance, and closing his eyes quickly fell back on the carriage seat.
While waiting in the reception room Pierre with weary eyes watched the various officials, old and young, military and civilian, who were there.
When he entered the private room Count Rostopchin, puckering his face, was rubbing his forehead and eyes with his hand.
"Why, nothing," answered Pierre without raising his eyes or changing the thoughtful expression of his face.
Natasha glanced with frightened eyes at the face of the wounded officer and at once went to meet the major.
"Which one do you want, Ma'am'selle?" said he, screwing up his eyes and smiling.
You know I don't understand about it, said she, dropping her eyes shamefacedly.
The countess opened her eyes in dismay and, seizing Sonya's arm, glanced around.
She did not know who was in it, but each time she looked at the procession her eyes sought that caleche.
"Look here," he added, taking Gerasim by a button of his coat and looking down at the old man with moist, shining, and ecstatic eyes, "I say, do you know that there is going to be a battle tomorrow?"
Tipsy and perspiring, with dim eyes and wide-open mouths, they were all laboriously singing some song or other.
The tall lad, standing in the porch, turned his bleared eyes from the publican to the smith and back again as if considering whom he ought to fight now.
The talking instantly ceased, hats and caps were doffed, and all eyes were raised to the count.
"Ah!" said Rostopchin, hurriedly turning away his eyes from the young man in the fur-lined coat and pointing to the bottom step of the porch.
All eyes were fixed on him.
Those standing in front, who had seen and heard what had taken place before them, all stood with wide-open eyes and mouths, straining with all their strength, and held back the crowd that was pushing behind them.
The caleche flew over the ground as fast as the horses could draw it, but for a long time Count Rostopchin still heard the insane despairing screams growing fainter in the distance, while his eyes saw nothing but the astonished, frightened, bloodstained face of "the traitor" in the fur-lined coat.
His eyes shone and his mustache twitched as if he were smiling to himself at some amusing thought.
Pierre did not answer, but looked cordially into the Frenchman's eyes whose expression of sympathy was pleasing to him.
"Oh, women, women!" and the captain, looking with glistening eyes at Pierre, began talking of love and of his love affairs.
Having repeated these words the captain wiped his eyes and gave himself a shake, as if driving away the weakness which assailed him at this touching recollection.
Listening to the story of the struggle between love and duty, Pierre saw before his eyes every minutest detail of his last meeting with the object of his love at the Sukharev water tower.
We have recognized you, he now seemed to hear the words she had uttered and to see before him her eyes, her smile, her traveling hood, and a stray lock of her hair... and there seemed to him something pathetic and touching in all this.
Speaking thickly and with a faraway look in his shining eyes, he told the whole story of his life: his marriage, Natasha's love for his best friend, her betrayal of him, and all his own simple relations with her.
She moved simply to be farther away from the wounded man.
But Natasha looked at her as if not understanding what was said to her and again fixed her eyes on the corner of the stove.
Her head moved from side to side from habit, but her eyes, feverishly wide, looked fixedly before her.
He was the same as ever, but the feverish color of his face, his glittering eyes rapturously turned toward her, and especially his neck, delicate as a child's, revealed by the turn-down collar of his shirt, gave him a peculiarly innocent, childlike look, such as she had never seen on him before.
He drank it eagerly, looking with feverish eyes at the door in front of him as if trying to understand and remember something.
Just once, looking into those eyes to say...
Prince Andrew collected all his strength in an effort to recover his senses, he moved a little, and suddenly there was a ringing in his ears, a dimness in his eyes, and like a man plunged into water he lost consciousness.
Natasha, motionless on her knees (she was unable to stir), with frightened eyes riveted on him, was restraining her sobs.
Those eyes, filled with happy tears, gazed at him timidly, compassionately, and with joyous love.
But Prince Andrew did not see that, he saw her shining eyes which were beautiful.
Pierre rose, rubbed his eyes, and seeing the pistol with an engraved stock which Gerasim had replaced on the writing table, he remembered where he was and what lay before him that very day.
The French followed him with astonishment in their eyes chiefly because Pierre, unlike all the other Russians who gazed at the French with fear and curiosity, paid no attention to them.
He held his head higher, his eyes shone with the light of life, and with swift steps he followed the maid, overtook her, and came out on the Povarskoy.
She was sitting on some bundles a little behind the old woman, and looked from under her long lashes with motionless, large, almond-shaped eyes at the ground before her.
Pierre looked around him with bloodshot eyes and did not reply.
"Very sad, sire," replied Michaud, lowering his eyes with a sigh.
The Emperor's mild and handsome face was flushed and his eyes gleamed with resolution and anger.
When he heard these words and saw the expression of firm resolution in the Emperor's eyes, Michaud--quoique etranger, russe de coeur et d'ame-- at that solemn moment felt himself enraptured by all that he had heard (as he used afterwards to say), and gave expression to his own feelings and those of the Russian people whose representative he considered himself to be, in the following words:
As soon as Nicholas entered in his hussar uniform, diffusing around him a fragrance of perfume and wine, and had uttered the words "better late than never" and heard them repeated several times by others, people clustered around him; all eyes turned on him, and he felt at once that he had entered into his proper position in the province--that of a universal favorite: a very pleasant position, and intoxicatingly so after his long privations.
Her eyes" (Nicholas looked at his partner) "are blue, her mouth coral and ivory; her figure" (he glanced at her shoulders) "like Diana's...."
She looked at him and, screwing up her eyes sternly, continued to upbraid the general who had won from her.
But when on Sunday after church the footman announced in the drawing room that Count Rostov had called, the princess showed no confusion, only a slight blush suffused her cheeks and her eyes lit up with a new and radiant light.
When Rostov entered the room, the princess dropped her eyes for an instant, as if to give the visitor time to greet her aunt, and then just as Nicholas turned to her she raised her head and met his look with shining eyes.
Tears were in his eyes and in his throat when the door opened and Lavrushka came in with some papers.
He had read only a few lines when he turned pale and his eyes opened wide with fear and joy.
He glanced through it, then read it again, and then again, and standing still in the middle of the room he raised his shoulders, stretching out his hands, with his mouth wide open and his eyes fixed.
His pale face was calm, his eyes closed, and they could see his regular breathing.
"Yes, yes!" cried Natasha opening her eyes wide, and vaguely recalling that Sonya had told her something about Prince Andrew whom she had seen lying down.
I saw him lying on a bed," said she, making a gesture with her hand and a lifted finger at each detail, "and that he had his eyes closed and was covered just with a pink quilt, and that his hands were folded," she concluded, convincing herself that the details she had just seen were exactly what she had seen in the mirror.
She not only remembered what she had then said--that he turned to look at her and smiled and was covered with something red--but was firmly convinced that she had then seen and said that he was covered with a pink quilt and that his eyes were closed.
"Sonya!" said the countess, raising her eyes from her letter as her niece passed, "Sonya, won't you write to Nicholas?"
She spoke in a soft, tremulous voice, and in the weary eyes that looked over her spectacles Sonya read all that the countess meant to convey with these words.
Without raising his eyes, he said in a low voice:
But before he had decided what to do, Davout raised his head, pushed his spectacles back on his forehead, screwed up his eyes, and looked intently at him.
Pierre did not take his eyes from him and did not miss his slightest movement.
Pierre gazed now with dazed eyes at these sharpshooters who ran in couples out of the circle.
But now he felt that the universe had crumbled before his eyes and only meaningless ruins remained, and this not by any fault of his own.
And he opened his eyes again and stared vacantly into the darkness around him.
Then he took out a knife, cut something, closed the knife, placed it under the head of his bed, and, seating himself comfortably, clasped his arms round his lifted knees and fixed his eyes on Pierre.
His head was quite round, his back, chest, shoulders, and even his arms, which he held as if ever ready to embrace something, were rounded, his pleasant smile and his large, gentle brown eyes were also round.
"The doctor says that he is not in danger," said the countess, but as she spoke she raised her eyes with a sigh, and her gesture conveyed a contradiction of her words.
Princess Mary raised her head, dried her eyes, and turned to Natasha.
Natasha's face and eyes would have to tell her all more clearly and profoundly.
Natasha was gazing at her, but seemed afraid and in doubt whether to say all she knew or not; she seemed to feel that before those luminous eyes which penetrated into the very depths of her heart, it was impossible not to tell the whole truth which she saw.
His eyes gazed at them as they entered.
On seeing his face and meeting his eyes Princess Mary's pace suddenly slackened, she felt her tears dry up and her sobs ceased.
When little Nicholas was brought into Prince Andrew's room he looked at his father with frightened eyes, but did not cry, because no one else was crying.
He understood it completely, and, leaving the room without crying, went silently up to Natasha who had come out with him and looked shyly at her with his beautiful, thoughtful eyes, then his uplifted, rosy upper lip trembled and leaning his head against her he began to cry.
Twice she turned and looked at him, and her eyes met his beaming at her.
Soon he really shut his eyes and fell asleep.
Natasha went up, looked at the dead eyes, and hastened to close them.
As often happens when someone we have trusted is no longer before our eyes, it suddenly seemed quite clear and obvious to him that the sergeant was an impostor, that he had lied, and that the whole Russian attack would be ruined by the absence of those two regiments, which he would lead away heaven only knew where.
Ermolov screwed up his eyes and smiled faintly on hearing these words.
The look of his eyes was resolute, calm, and animatedly alert, as never before.
The former slackness which had shown itself even in his eyes was now replaced by an energetic readiness for action and resistance.
The Frenchman, having pushed his head and hands through, without raising his eyes, looked down at the shirt and examined the seams.
The sick soldier, Sokolov, pale and thin with dark shadows round his eyes, alone sat in his place barefoot and not dressed.
His eyes, prominent from the emaciation of his face, gazed inquiringly at his comrades who were paying no attention to him, and he moaned regularly and quietly.
Esaul Lovayski the Third was a tall man as straight as an arrow, pale- faced, fair-haired, with narrow light eyes and with calm self- satisfaction in his face and bearing.
"Bwing the prisoner here," said Denisov in a low voice, not taking his eyes off the French.
He turned his eyes rapidly from Tikhon's face to the esaul's and Denisov's, unable to make out what it all meant.
Petya had heard in the army many stories of Dolokhov's extraordinary bravery and of his cruelty to the French, so from the moment he entered the hut Petya did not take his eyes from him, but braced himself up more and more and held his head high, that he might not be unworthy even of such company.
The esaul, screwing up his light-colored eyes, nodded approvingly.
That officer did not take his eyes from Dolokhov and again asked to what regiment he belonged.
Petya's eyes began to close and he swayed a little.
He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance, sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and again all mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn.
His face, having been bathed in cold water, was all aglow, and his eyes were particularly brilliant.
Karataev looked at Pierre with his kindly round eyes now filled with tears, evidently wishing him to come near that he might say something to him.
And without linking up the events of the day or drawing a conclusion from them, Pierre closed his eyes, seeing a vision of the country in summertime mingled with memories of bathing and of the liquid, vibrating globe, and he sank into water so that it closed over his head.
The French, excited by all that had happened, were talking loudly among themselves, but as they passed Dolokhov who gently switched his boots with his whip and watched them with cold glassy eyes that boded no good, they became silent.
"Filez, filez!" * Dolokhov kept saying, having adopted this expression from the French, and when his eyes met those of the prisoners they flashed with a cruel light.
Drooping in spirit and closing their eyes before the menacing cloud of death that overhung them, they dared not look life in the face.
After she felt herself deserted by Princes Mary and alone in her grief, Natasha spent most of the time in her room by herself, sitting huddled up feet and all in the corner of the sofa, tearing and twisting something with her slender nervous fingers and gazing intently and fixedly at whatever her eyes chanced to fall on.
His lips are firmly closed, his eyes glitter, and a wrinkle comes and goes on his pale forehead.
He noticed her watching him, raised his eyes, and began to speak seriously:
She was overcome by sweet sorrow and tears were already rising in her eyes; then she suddenly asked herself to whom she was saying this.
The countess pressed her daughter's hand, closed her eyes, and became quiet for a moment.
Natasha looked at her with eyes full of tears and in her look there was nothing but love and an entreaty for forgiveness.
During the third night the countess kept very quiet for a few minutes, and Natasha rested her head on the arm of her chair and closed her eyes, but opened them again on hearing the bedstead creak.
He screwed up his eyes with a dissatisfied look as he gazed attentively and fixedly at these prisoners, who presented a specially wretched appearance.
He puckered his face, screwed up his eyes, and pensively swayed his head.
Thousands of eyes were looking at him from all sides awaiting a word from him.
His face grew brighter and brighter with an old man's mild smile, which drew the corners of his lips and eyes into a cluster of wrinkles.
Fetch some more wood! shouted a red-haired and red-faced man, screwing up his eyes and blinking because of the smoke but not moving back from the fire.
Morel, a short sturdy Frenchman with inflamed and streaming eyes, was wearing a woman's cloak and had a shawl tied woman fashion round his head over his cap.
There was running to and fro and whispering; another troyka flew furiously up, and then all eyes were turned on an approaching sleigh in which the figures of the Emperor and Volkonski could already be descried.
Kutuzov raised his head and looked for a long while into the eyes of Count Tolstoy, who stood before him holding a silver salver on which lay a small object.
As before he was absent-minded and seemed occupied not with what was before his eyes but with something special of his own.
At present he still forgot what was said to him and still did not see what was before his eyes, but he now looked with a scarcely perceptible and seemingly ironic smile at what was before him and listened to what was said, though evidently seeing and hearing something quite different.
Now a smile at the joy of life always played round his lips, and sympathy for others, shone in his eyes with a questioning look as to whether they were as contented as he was, and people felt pleased by his presence.
He spoke of you even at the very last, she went on, turning her eyes from Pierre to her companion with a shyness that surprised him for an instant.
Pierre looked again at the companion's pale, delicate face with its black eyes and peculiar mouth, and something near to him, long forgotten and more than sweet, looked at him from those attentive eyes.
She had grown thin and pale, but that was not what made her unrecognizable; she was unrecognizable at the moment he entered because on that face whose eyes had always shone with a suppressed smile of the joy of life, now when he first entered and glanced at her there was not the least shadow of a smile: only her eyes were kindly attentive and sadly interrogative.
Natasha looked at him, and by way of answer to his words her eyes widened and lit up.
What a happy thing that he saw you again, he added, suddenly turning to Natasha and looking at her with eyes full of tears.
She frowned and lowered her eyes for a moment.
Pierre listened to her with lips parted and eyes fixed upon her full of tears.
They had evidently both formed the same resolution; the eyes of both shone with satisfaction and a confession that besides sorrow life also has joy.
One was snatched out before my eyes... and there were women who had their things snatched off and their earrings torn out... he flushed and grew confused.
Natasha continued to look at him intently with bright, attentive, and animated eyes, as if trying to understand something more which he had perhaps left untold.
The cabmen he met and their passengers, the carpenters cutting the timber for new houses with axes, the women hawkers, and the shopkeepers, all looked at him with cheerful beaming eyes that seemed to say: Ah, there he is!
He paused and rubbed his face and eyes with his hands.
She spoke little of Pierre, but when Princess Mary mentioned him a long-extinguished light once more kindled in her eyes and her lips curved with a strange smile.
With Mademoiselle Bourienne's help the princess had maintained the conversation very well, but at the very last moment, just when he rose, she was so tired of talking of what did not interest her, and her mind was so full of the question why she alone was granted so little happiness in life, that in a fit of absent-mindedness she sat still, her luminous eyes gazing fixedly before her, not noticing that he had risen.
Princess Mary gazed intently into his eyes with her own luminous ones as he said this.
There were tears in her eyes and in her voice.
For a few seconds they gazed silently into one another's eyes--and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly became possible, inevitable, and very near.
The chief thing in his eyes was not the nitrogen in the soil, nor the oxygen in the air, nor manures, nor special plows, but that most important agent by which nitrogen, oxygen, manure, and plow were made effective-- the peasant laborer.
She never cried from pain or vexation, but always from sorrow or pity, and when she wept her radiant eyes acquired an irresistible charm.
She looked down at her expanded figure and in the glass at her pale, sallow, emaciated face in which her eyes now looked larger than ever.
She felt that the allurements instinct had formerly taught her to use would now be merely ridiculous in the eyes of her husband, to whom she had from the first moment given herself up entirely--that is, with her whole soul, leaving no corner of it hidden from him.
The baby again opened his eyes and looked at her.
Young Nicholas, now a slim lad of fifteen, delicate and intelligent, with curly light-brown hair and beautiful eyes, was delighted because Uncle Pierre as he called him was the object of his rapturous and passionate affection.
Natasha, who was sitting opposite to him with her eldest daughter on her lap, turned her sparkling eyes swiftly from her husband to the things he showed her.
Her face had shriveled, her upper lip had sunk in, and her eyes were dim.
At tea all sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess.
Countess Mary sat down doing woolwork; Natasha did not take her eyes off her husband.
The curly- headed, delicate boy sat with shining eyes unnoticed in a corner, starting every now and then and muttering something to himself, and evidently experiencing a new and powerful emotion as he turned his curly head, with his thin neck exposed by his turn-down collar, toward the place where Pierre sat.
Nicholas looked into the radiant eyes that were gazing at him, and continued to turn over the pages and read.
Yes, of course- he did not finish because their eyes meeting said the rest.
Natasha cried, and her eyes glittered coldly and vindictively.
I only wanted to tell you about Petya: today nurse was coming to take him from me, and he laughed, shut his eyes, and clung to me.
Man's free will differs from every other force in that man is directly conscious of it, but in the eyes of reason it in no way differs from any other force.
The more this field of motion spreads out before our eyes, the more evident are the laws of that movement.
Humor danced in his eyes and twisted smooth lips.
As his fingers laced through hers, she opened her eyes and found Alex watching her.
Alondra smiled shyly but her eyes shined.
Her pupils were large, making her eyes look dark.
Finally she wiped her eyes and glared at Carmen.
All the humor vanished from his eyes as he watched her.
The boy was startled and his eyes were big.
"My name is Gwig," said the Sorcerer, turning his heartless, cruel eyes upon his rival.
It did her good to see how the braided man's eyes sparkled when he received this treasure.
"No," answered the owner of the big yellow eyes which were blinking at them so steadily; "you are wrong about that.
Jim's eyes stuck out as much as those of the Sawhorse, and he stared at the creature with his ears erect and his long head drawn back until it rested against his arched neck.
Here were her eyes, and here her dainty ears.
That difference gives me brown eyes and you blue eyes.
It was the most comical shapeless thing, this improvised doll, with no nose, mouth, ears or eyes--nothing that even the imagination of a child could convert into a face.
When I next saw her she was a formless heap of cotton, which I should not have recognized at all except for the two bead eyes which looked out at me reproachfully.
He opened his eyes as they were closing.
Some had long, curved noses and chins, small eyes and wide, grinning mouths.
The cab-horse gave a nervous start and Zeb began to rub his eyes to make sure he was not asleep.
They scarcely noticed the sidesaddle; they noticed only the boy's dark eyes and his strong, noble face.
Look at those big gray eyes and that beautiful red hair!
Presently he woke up, rose to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes briskly.