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Her eyes had filled with tears.
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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 flashed angrily.
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.
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 had
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 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 mouth, which had been so much in my thoughts, was warm and moist and tender.
Her mother, now dead, was my good friend and when she came to tell us about her plans and to show off her ring I had a sobering wish to say something meaningful to her, something her mother would wish said.
Her mother had done it before her, and even her old grandmother, who had collected money for smallpox and unwed mothers.
Her presence only made Letch more distant and irritable and, in the hurry of buying Chateau Belletch, I had neglected to consider a room for Baby-dear, so there was no place to put her, anyhow.
Her previous traumatic experiences flashed through her mind as if they had happened yesterday.
Her neighbors in the expensive Houston apartment building told reporters that the ash-blonde beauty had talked at times about her past as `` the Golden Girl of the Mickey Jelke trial ''.
Her skin crawled: Lolotte had told Maude that she was in the hall and the door was open.
Her estate had grown considerably.
Her entrance in Scene 2, Act 1, brought some disconcerting applause even before she had sung a note.
Her nose was higher of bridge, her complexion so pale as to be quite susceptible to sunburn, and the fish and vegetable diet of her forebears had given her teeth that were white and regular and strong.
Her Cousin Emma Carraway had written it, in her loose high old lady's script -- t's carefully crossed, but l's inclined to wobble like an old car on the downward slope.
Her friends and professional associates would sympathize with her, not because she had lost a beloved husband, but because she had been married to a man who thought unrealistically.
Her first actual flight, for she and her kind had made mock flights on dummy panels since she was eight, showed her complete mastery of the techniques of her profession.
Her chief center of worship was at Paphos, where the goddess of desire had been worshipped from the early Iron Age in the form of Ishtar and Astarte.
Her mother ’ s marriage to Agrippa was her second marriage, as Julia the Elder was widowed from her first marriage, to her paternal cousin Marcus Claudius Marcellus and they had no children.
Her mother and her siblings had travelled with Agrippa.
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