“I studied his eyes. They were nearly a color today, a frozen lake reflecting a clear blue...”

“Colors. Would it be green or blue today? Maybe white—my favorite. A dark voice in the back of my mind offered no color at all as an alternative. I smothered that voice. The days of no color were simply too hard to bear. I needed color today.”

“His steady gaze held hers. His blue eyes were very dark, uniquely so. She had known people before with blue eyes, but they had always been light blue. Will's were the color of the sky just on the edge of night.”

“She had amber-colored eyes. Or maybe they were blue, and I was confusing their color with her name, which was Amber.”

“…the Lake of Shining Waters was blue — blue — blue; not the changeful blue of spring, nor the pale azure of summer, but a clear, steadfast, serene blue, as if the water were past all modes and tenses of emotion and had settled down to a tranquillity unbroken by fickle dreams.”

“I'm standing in a river. It's blue. Dark blue. Reflecting the color of the evening sky.”