Girl with a Pearl Earring

She was trying to understand what had happened to her daughter.

When I did her look was a puzzle of anger held back, of curiosity, of hurt.

His eyes locked with mine. I could think of nothing except how their grey was like the inside of an oyster shell.

A painting in a church is like a candle in a dark room—we use it to see better. It is the bridge between ourselves and God.

“She is facing us, but is looking out the window, down to her right. She is wearing a yellow and black fitted bodice of silk and velvet, a dark blue skirt, and a white cap that hangs down in two points below her chin.”

I had often seen him look at her, touch her shoulder, speak to her in a low voice laced with honey.

put on airs with

set her in the best light.

insisted that the four girls and Johannes be allowed into the studio.

chairs pulled up to the table and rested my elbow on the blue and red table rug