Mazzy Holler

“Any other questions?"
"Just one," I say. "What color are your eyes?" I want to know what he thinks, how he sees himself - the real Ky - when he dares to look.
"Blue," he says sounding surprised, "they've always been blue."
"Not to me."
"What do they look like to you?" he says puzzled, amused. Not looking at my mouth anymore, looking into my eyes.
"Lots of colors," I say. "At first I thought they were brown. Once I thought they were green..."
"What are they now?" he asks. He widens his eyes a little, leans closer, lets me look as long and deep as I want.
"Well?"
"Everything," I tell him, "They're everything.”
― Ally Condie, Matched

“...so i will greet you
in a way
all loved things
are meant to be greeted

with a tear in my heart
and a poem in my eye.”
― Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence

“My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?"

That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?"

"The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.”
― Richelle Mead, Bloodlines

“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter - in the eye.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre