“Her green eyes flutter all the way open, and she looks amused. It pricks his ego slightly. Afterkiss, shouldn’t she be fainting at his feet? But she’s grinning.”

“Like a good and happy man increasing his virtue, he kissed her. She did not move away from him. She remained in the embrace of his right arm, her face nuzzling his shoulder, her eyes closed. He tipped her chin to look and measure opportunity. She could not open her eyes. Honorably he searched, but on her face he met no quarrel.”

“She's alive," Thomas said, not opening his eyes.
"What?" Will was caught off guard.
"The one you come back for. Her. Tessa. She's with Sophie.”

“She grabbed his arm. "Let it be, son!" she cried. "That child ain't hurt!"
"Not hurt! You look into her eyes and tell me she ain't hurt!”

“I only believe in certain kinds of hell," she said, and again she was looking at him, the green eyes steady.
"To each his own, eh?"
"You said it; I didn’t.”

“She opened her eyes and met his. The impact was so strong he was amazed that his fingers continued playing without pause.”

“Please stop looking at me, she thought, afraid of his eyes and terrified of her own heart.”

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

“Frank Sinatra stopped his car. The light was red. Pedestrians passed quickly across his windshield but, as usual, one did not. It was a girl in her twenties. She remained at the curb staring at him. Through the corner of his left eye he could see her, and he knew, because it happens almost every day, that she was thinking, It looks like him, but is it? Just before the light turned green, Sinatra turned toward her, looked directly into her eyes waiting for the reaction he knew would come. It came and he smiled. She smiled and he was gone.”

“She had wild eyes, slightly insane. She also carried an overload of compassion that was real enough and which obviously cost her something.”