Nietzsche on his Balcony

First thing, Leonardo spent hours in front of the mirror. Looking at himself. Admiring himself. His profile may not have been John Barrymore perfect, but it was close. Everything about Leonardo was close. Straight hair with a deep receding hairline and the insinuation, already, of a tonsure. Regular ears. Lipless mouth, straight, a forced smile to avoid the look of cruelty, changing it to the look of mockery. His cheeks tending toward the plump. No sign of the trademark of beauty, prominent cheekbones, but deep eyes concentrated into a penetrating stare, which made one forget the rest of the face, a pair of animal eyes; they did not belong to the city, or to the jungle; they didn't need light, or shadow; they didn't require permanence; greatly elongated, until close to the temples and seeing everything straight on and on the periphery.

And the sarcastic comment of the eyebrows, which wouldn't even be there without the eyes.