She had the appearance of soulfire sparking against the ice.
That tale of anger in your appearance, it tells of your pain as much as any who wear their heart on their sleeve. Are you ready for love? Which way will you run? Because, love, I'm right here.
He had the appearance of one who saw right to the heart and would take your entire soul as his friend, keeping it safe come what may.
The appearance of beauty comes from the soul, shines through the eyes and tells of itself in choices of words and the song of the voice.
There is a way of dressing, of appearing, that becomes as a shield, a barrier that keeps out the very medicine that is needed so much.
Her appearance was one of gentle intelligence, as if even her wisdom had a feminine quality.
He had the appearance of one who had learned the look of confidence as a survival skill.
Her eyes spoke of a beautiful soul and her movements told of a need for nurture, but then perhaps that's how we all are. How telling it is that so many have the appearance of the animal that has known intense suffering, such at the dogs that are rescued from cruel indifference. I knew right then, that all she needed was my love, something steady to hold onto and in time those eyes would shine as they were born to. And perhaps in that rescuing of her I was rescuing myself too. For what is the appearance but the window dressing of the soul?