There was something awful in her eyes; something so dark and chilling that the skin on the back of his neck crawled and automatically he put his hand up to stroke it.
His eyes are a clear, ignorant, and somewhere dangerous yellow, quietly studying you.
His eyes were as clear as pale water in the shade, as if they reached all the way back in time to the very beginning, and saw everything as it really was.
Bandage up me eye with me own history blind me to my own identity.