A Quote by Steven Squyres

When we opened our eyes, we saw bedrock exposed in the walls of the crater. — © Steven Squyres
When we opened our eyes, we saw bedrock exposed in the walls of the crater.
The moment Eve bit into the apple, her eyes opened and she became free. She exposed the truth of what every woman knows: to find our sovereign voice often requires a betrayal.
My father never feared death. He never saw it as an ending. I don't know why Alzheimer's was allowed to steal so much of my father before releasing him into the arms of death. But I know that at his last moment, when he opened his eyes - - eyes that had not opened for many, many days - - and looked at my mother, he showed us that neither disease nor death can conquer love.
You know, I love traveling and I love being exposed to different cultures, but really it's the people that I've met along the way, not the places I've been, that have opened my eyes.
I never had posters on my walls, and I didn't have any icons, either. I come from a small village in Wirral, and my family didn't watch TV. I wasn't exposed to people with icon status. David Bowie popped up, but I had already shaved my eyebrows off by the time I saw his.
All this has been very formative in both my research and my teaching, so I value it enormously in my life. It's why I'm a strong proponent of general education -- because I saw how it opened my eyes.
September 11 definitely opened our eyes, but when I was 19 or whatever on the last record, we just didn't care about anything. We were too young to care about anything. And then as you get older, you don't really have any excuse to be stupid anymore, to be in the dark. That just kind of opened everyone's eyes (which I probably wish it did to more people) that there's obviously something wrong, to try and figure out what it is and what's going on in the world.
I was wondering about my eyes; one of my eyes--the left--saw everything golden and yellow and orange, and the other eye saw shades of blue and grey and green; perhaps one eye was for daylight and the other was for night. If everyone in the world saw different colors from different eyes there might be a great many new colors still to be invented.
Every one of us is blind and deaf until our eyes are opened to our fellowmen, until our ears hear the voice of humanity.
I was like, 'I'm going to win Wimbledon!' I was crazy competitive, leg-slapping, all of that. But when I was 12, I saw 'What's Eating Gilbert Grape,' and it just opened my eyes to what movies can do and how they change us, and I was like, 'This is what I want to do. This is what I have to do.'
He looked at the pain and he set himself apart from it. He saw it, examined it, identified it, corralled it. He isolated it. He challenged it. You against me? Dream on, pal. He built borders for it. Then walls. He built walls and forced the pain behind them and then he moved the walls inward, compressing the pain, crushing it, boxing it in, limiting it, beating it.
I had been doing wall drawings, but they were always black and white. Then in 1993 I painted all the walls of a room to make an installation and as soon as I saw the colour on the walls, it changed my whole life.
Some friends of mine in the class ahead of me in college were auditioning for graduate school in New York, and then a few of them got into Juilliard, and it sort of opened my eyes. I didn't really know anything about it, but it opened my eyes to a possible next step after school, where I could just deepen my knowledge and also not be responsible for life and stay in school.
Had you met me when I was 18 I was very, very patriotic almost to the point of sounding a little bit bigoted or racist, but then I moved away, came to London, my eyes were opened and I saw the world.
I don't know why Alzheimer's was allowed to steal so much of my father before releasing him into the arms of death. But I know that at his last moment, when he opened his eyes, eyes that had not opened for many, many days, and looked at my mother, he showed us that neither disease nor death can conquer love.
I saw bubbling lava, and at the same moment I saw a reflection of a certain kind of inner turmoil. Because at the moment I looked into that crater, I slipped, and a large piece of volcanic rock took a hole out of my leg. The scar is still there 20, 30 years later. But it's one of those things that reminds you of the kind of risk or the kind of moment in order to push yourself.
If the next car passed is blue, Violet will be okay, she thought. If it's red, A will do something horrible to her. She heard a growl of an engine and shut her eyes, afraid to see what the future might hold. She'd never cared so much about anything in her life. Just as the car was passing, she opened her eyes and saw a Mercedes hood ornament. She let out a long sigh, tears coming to her eyes once more. The car was blue.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!