But Levin was in love, and so it seemed to him that Kitty was so perfect in every respect that she was a creature far above everything earthly; and that he was a creature so low and so earthly that it could not even be conceived that other people and she herself could regard him as worthy of her.

The cat . . . is for the man who appreciates beauty as the one living force in a blind and purposeless universe.

And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him.

It had come to him that no one would ever look from these eyes but he: that among all the lives, numerous beyond imagination, in which he might have lived, he was this one, pinned to this single point of infinity; the rest always to be alien, he to be I.

God, he thought, her eyes are so bright, flashing, deep, full of promise, all those things eyes are in books but never are in life, and she was his.

there was no more beautiful creature in the whole world

She had curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes; eyes that were very pretty and very good.

His eyes were black and shiny; he had somehow the heir of a man who saw things no one else did. Whether those things were actually there, Argyros was not sure.

The creature has a purpose, and his eyes are bright with it.

From his soft fur, golden and brown,
Goes out so sweet a scent, one night
I might have been embalmed in it
By giving him one little pet.

He is my household's guardian soul;
He judges, he presides, inspires
All matters in his royal realm;
Might he be fairy? or a god?

When my eyes, to this cat I love
Drawn as by a magnet's force,
Turn tamely back upon that appeal,
And when I look within myself,

I notice with astonishment
The fire of his opal eyes,
Clear beacons glowing, living jewels,
Taking my measure, steadily.

A person would not be able to live in this world if not for the bit of goodness that he has seen with his own eyes-this is what Tulye Shor said to me.

What civilization would be complete without a cat?" the Professor went on. "What greater blessing to the home than the kindly yet watchful eye of this tiger of the fireside?

I thought no one ever could paint a woman's eyes like Rossetti. There was a softness, a delicacy, a life, a soul in them, never seen elsewhere, but in living beings, and that how rarely!

He looked at her and for a moment she lived in the bright blue worlds of his eyes, eagerly and confidently.