Hazel Eyes Quotes

“Miraculous.'

'What's miraculous?'
...
'You are.' I set the empty glass on the nightstand and then turn back to her, gazing into the hazel eyes that have haunted me since Parapet. 'You are miraculous,' I finish in a whisper.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Dork," I chastised affectionately. But his cheesy exclamation was something I was okay with. I smiled up at him. His hazels danced with mischief. "Okay," I agreed.

The mischief turned to triumph.

Damn those magic eyes!”
― Sarah Brocious, What Remains

“Gideon was instantly captivated. A hundred questions crowded in his mind. He wanted to know who she was, why she was there, if she liked sugar in her tea, had she climbed trees as a girl, and what her first kiss had been like...
The flood of curiosity puzzled him. He usually managed to avoid caring about anyone long enough to ask questions about him. Not quite trusting himself to speak, Gideon approached her cautiously. She stiffened slightly, as if she was unused to proximity with a stranger. As he drew closer, he saw that her features were even and her nose was a little too long, and her mouth was soft and sweetly shaped. Her eyes were some light color... green, perhaps... shining eyes that contained unexpected depths.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Again the Magic

“She looked up at him, her eyes enormous. He noticed they were hazel, the sort that picked up whatever hue was near. Now they were the same shade of green as the moss ringing the cavern.”
― Connie Mason, Sins of the Highlander

“He did not look like a pirate.
He looked... familiar.
There was something there, in the handsome angles and deep, wicked shadows, the hollows of his cheeks, the straight line of his lips, the sharp line of his jaw- in need of a shave.
Yes, there was something there- a whisper of recognition.
He wore a pin-striped cap dusted with snow, the brim of which cast his eyes into darkness. They were a missing piece.
She would never know from where the instinct came- perhaps from a desire to discover the identity of the man who would end her days- but she could not stop herself from reaching up and pushing the hat back from his face to see his eyes.
Only later it would occur to her that he did not try to stop her.
His eyes were hazel, a mosaic of browns and greens and greys, framed by long, dark lashes, spiked with snow. She would have known them anywhere, even if they were far more serious now than she'd ever seen them before.
Shock coursed through her, followed by a thick current of happiness.
He was not a pirate.
"Michael?" He stiffened at the sound of his name, but she did not take the time to wonder why.
She flattened her palm against his cold cheek- an action at which she would later marvel- and laughed, the sound muffled by the snow falling around them. "It is you, isn't it?"
He reached up, pulling her hand from his face. He wasn't wearing gloves, and still, he was so warm.
And not at all clammy.”
― Sarah MacLean, A Rogue by Any Other Name

“I’d have to say, you’ve got something behind those hazel eyes of yours that I haven’t seen in a long time”
― Magan Vernon, The Only Way

“Your eyes,
Their glamorous radiance,
Their eternal, heavenly warmth,
Their delicate and intricate beauty,
The desire to see that twinkle,
That gorgeous hazel glow,
Overwhelms me,
Hazel, the most beautiful
Shade of green,
Like splashes of sunlight, painting
The trembling woods a patchwork of
Deep ambers and throbbing reds,
Like a shrouded sky, suffocating
By melting greys and inky blacks,
Like the rippling of chestnut browns
And pine greens on a trembling tree,
Your eyes, they seem, are
Always distracted,
Always thinking,
Always swirling with hidden embers
And falling leaves,
They hold so many secrets
That I wish I could read,
Mesmerising, perplexing, surreal,
How I longed to be drowned in
Those dizzying pools of colours
And never be found again,
I adore your hazel eyes,
How they utterly charm me,
Like the richly brilliant stars,
They truly are a masterpiece”
― -L.S.

“He suspected Susannah Makepeace might even become truly interesting... given a little encouragement.
She was pretty. Not in the usual way, the way the Carstairs sisters were pretty, the sort of beauty that would become distinct with age. But... well, Miss Makepeace's eyes seemed filled with colors, and with a spy's impulse toward investigation, he had an urge to get a look at them in the full light so he could see how many and which ones. And her mouth... it was plush, her mouth. Pink as the inside of a seashell.
The softest, softest shade of pink imaginable.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“It was a fine hat. Had a plume... Made her eyes so green..."
"Very good color---green," Bullton agreed wistfully.
"Particularly for eyes," Kit mused. "But I'm partial to hazel. Hazel is green with blue and bits of gold in it," he explained to Bullton.
"Are you, sir? Are you really partial to hazel?" Bullton solemnly wanted to know.
"Very, very partial," Kit said dreamily.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“She lifted her head and gazed at him, studying him like a map. He submitted to it without blinking, lost momentarily in the lovely complexity of her eyes. All those colors. Like the pond dappled in morning light, those eyes were, the shifting play of green and gold,; tears had made spikes of her chestnut lashes. It was all he could not to brush a thumb across them, taste the salt of them, to run the cool back of his hand against her flushed cheek, soothing it. He wondered why it had begun to seem more unnatural not to touch her... than to touch her.
At that thought, something kicked sharply inside him, once. And then it unfurled, slowly, slowly, filling him with an ache both unutterably sweet... and as old as time.
It occurred to him then: She might very well be right. She might just be a little dangerous after all.”
― Julie Anne Long, Beauty and the Spy

“If I'd thought he was gorgeous in the dark and rain, he was breathtaking in the light of day, taller, broader, his jaw more defined. He'd even had a shave. His eyes, now that I could see them clearly, were a kaleidoscope of buttered chocolate and golden caramel, the color shifting to green when he smiled.”
― Sara Desai, To Have and to Heist

“Once upon a time she'd thought he'd had the most beautiful pair of eyes she'd ever seen. They were the color of a deep maple. She'd spent way too much time as a besotted teen trying to pinpoint the exact color. Molasses was too light, chocolate too dark.”
― Jamie Wesley, A Legend in the Baking

“I could have sworn you all had normal eye colors. I mean, once or twice I'll admit I thought the light was playing tricks on me, but mostly they've been normal colors."
"Oh?" Dom smirked. "And what color were mine?"
A warm hazelnut shade, darker at the edges and inviting enough to stare into for however long my heart could take it.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Wolves

“Her hazel eyes danced with specks of forest green and rich deep brown, and I thought for a moment of a wood nymph out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting. That's what she would look like with her hair down, sweetly chaotic and not a little bit sensual.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, Love Walked In

“His smile grew at my reaction, and his eyes--- the brown of his irises somehow richer now that he'd fed--- twinkled with pleasure. He really did have lovely eyes. They were the sort of eyes I could get lost in if I let myself. It was the first time I'd seen him smile fully, I realized. Not one of his reluctant half smiles that seemed pulled from him against his will but an actual grin that lit up his face.
Beautiful. The thought flitted across my mind as he stepped closer. This man is beautiful.
He was also aroused, if what was going on at the front of his jeans was any guide.”
― Jenna Levine, Road Trip With a Vampire

“Your eyes,
Their glamorous radiance,
Their eternal, heavenly warmth,
Their delicate and intricate beauty,
The desire to see that twinkle,
That gorgeous hazel glow,
Overwhelms me,
Hazel, the most beautiful
Shade of green,
Like the rippling of chestnut browns
And greens on trembling trees,
Like splashes of sunlight, painting
The woods a patchwork of
Ambers and throbbing reds,
Of golds and silvers,
Of light and shade
On a callous and dreary morning,
Like the feeling of grasping a
Warm cup of coffee,
Holding it softly between your hands
Watching, in a daze, as it
Dances elegantly in a
Blend of acorns and pinecones,
Your eyes, they seem, are
Always distracted,
Always thinking,
Always swirling with hidden embers
And falling leaves,
They hold so many secrets
That I wish I could read,
Mesmerising, perplexing, surreal,
How I longed to be drowned in
Those dizzying pools of colours
And never be found again,
I adore your hazel eyes,
How they utterly charm me,
Like the richly brilliant stars,
They truly are a masterpiece”
― -L.S.