One sees a few fascinating faces in Cagliari: those great, dark, unlighted eyes. There are fascinating dark eyes in Sicily, bright, big, with an impudent point of light, and a curious roll, and long lashes: the eyes of old Greece, surely. But here one sees eyes soft, blank darkness, all velvet, with no imp looking out of them. And they strike a stranger, older note: before the soul became self conscious: before the mentality of Greece appeared in the world. Remote, always remote, as if the intelligence lay deep within the cave, and never came forward. One searches into the gloom for one second, while the glance lasts. But without being able to penetrate to the reality. It recedes, , like some unknown creature deeper into its lair. There is a creature, dark and potent. But what? Sometimes Velasquez, and sometimes Goya gives us a suggestion of these large, dark, unlighted eyes. And they go with fine, fleecy black hair- almost as fine as fur. I have not seen them north of Cagliari.

-DH Lawrence, Sea and Sardinia 

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