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Her eyes flashed angrily.
from
Brown Corpus
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Her and eyes
Her eyes were glazed as if she didn't hear or even see him.
) Her Nicolas lay curled in the sun like a fawn, black hair falling over his eyes.
Her eyes had opened, she had caught a glimpse of a new faith.
Her face was pale but set and her dark eyes smoldered with blame for Ben.
Her brother Karl was a very gentle soul, her mother was a quiet woman who said little but who had hard, probing eyes.
Her eyes became bright as she talked about her father and mother, aunts and uncles, cousins.
Her eyes were bright with anticipation.
Her bright eyes were twinkling.
Her little brown face wrinkled up, her brown eyes gleamed, and with her little gestures she said all the courteous things.
Her eyes were wild.
Her eyes opened as soon as she heard me, though, and once again, I felt an inward shiver.
Her eyes were smiling, too, but so sadly, and there was tiredness and infinite wisdom in them.
James Hadley Chase wrote a few novels with private eyes as the main hero, including Blonde's Requiem ( 1945 ), Lay Her Among the Lilies ( 1950 ), and Figure It Out for Yourself ( 1950 ).
Her long, fine hair was dyed pale blonde, and her eyes, " brown as fir cones in autumn, scattered laughter ".
" Her combination of attractive appearance – centered around her large eyes – and somewhat distant and understated manner made her hard at first for MGM to cast and publicize.
* Her eyes twinkled like stars.
" Her mouth is too large and her eyes too prominent and colourless for beauty ", wrote a Venetian envoy as Catherine approached forty, " but a very distinguished-looking woman, with a shapely figure, a beautiful skin and exquisitely shaped hands ".
Her face narrows between the eyes, and the lower part of her face is still more narrow and slender than the forehead.
Her eyes are blackish-brown and deep.
Her eyes had filled with tears.
In My Life, Chagall described his first meeting her: " Her silence is mine, her eyes mine.
Her image was considered with more care ; although she continued to play character roles, she was often filmed in close-ups that emphasized her distinctive eyes.
Her eyes were grey, and her mouth was small ; her smile allowed her to demonstrate her wry humour, her wit, and her graciousness.
Her wavy hair was light brown in colour, and she had grey eyes and fair skin.
Her and flashed
Her voice was ripe and full and her teeth flashed again in Sicilian brilliance before the warm curved lips met and her mouth settled in repose.
Her previous traumatic experiences flashed through her mind as if they had happened yesterday.
Her curly hair floated on the water, and lightning flashed from her black horn and her yellow horn.
Rediff. com, as part of a performance analysis noted, " Her inspiring work in Yuva as the devoted yet frustrated wife of a local goon came alive every time she flashed those big fire-filled eyes at her husband or broke down angrily at an unsuspecting onlooker.
Her and angrily
Her mother had lectured her sternly about staying out late, but the two did not quarrel angrily.
Her name is properly pronounced " Ichimaru ", but she reacts angrily to being called anything but " Ten ".
Her aunt in particular insisted on calling her " Alberto ", and her mother, who supported her decision, reacted angrily at Cachita's aunt, telling her that Alberto was now a woman and her name was " Alina ".
Her and .
Her face was very thin, and burned by the sun until much of the skin was dead and peeling, the new skin under it red and angry.
Her blond hair was frowzy, her dress torn in several places, and her shoes were so completely worn out that they were practically no protection.
Her hat had come off and fallen behind her shoulders, held by the string, and he could see her face more clearly than he had at any time before.
Her arm bled slightly, and the offended skin cried out in pain.
Her own body protested, aching painfully where the blood in her veins had congealed, where cold demon wisps still clung and caressed.
Her impact in the zing commercials had led to her being considered for an excellent part in an upcoming TV series, Underwater Western Eye, a documentary-type show to be sponsored by Oatnut Grits.
Her form was silhouetted and with the strong light I could see the outlines of her body, a body that an artist or anyone else would have admired.
Her mouth, which had been so much in my thoughts, was warm and moist and tender.
Her heart, her maternal feeling, in fact her being was too busy expressing itself, as quietly thrilled by this sight of her Nicolas curled asleep under a blanket, in a park like a scene from Poussin.
Her white blond hair was clean and brushed long straight down to her shoulders.
Her thick hair was the color and texture of charcoal.
Her temper sparked like charcoal when it first lights up.
Her chin sharpened.
Her laugh was hard.
Her stern was down and a sharp list helped us to cut loose the lifeboat which dropped heavily into the water.
Her name was L'Turu and she told me many things.
( Her account was later confirmed by the Scobee-Frazier Expedition from the University of Manitoba in 1951.
Her glance swung past the trailer where the two drivers were standing.
Her scream split up the silence of the car, accompanied by the rattling of the freight, and then Cappy came off the floor, his legs driving him hard.
Her long thin arms moved in a slow rhythmical gesture over the family possessions which were placed in front of her.
Her clothes, her hair, everything about her is both graceful and simple.
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