That’s right,” said Door. Her cheek lightly grazed and her dirty reddish hair was tangled; tangled but not matted. And her eyes…Richard realized that he could not tell what color her eyes were. They were not blue, or green, or brown, or gray; they reminded him of fire opals: there were burning greens and blues, and even reds and yellows that vanished and glinted as she moved

That’s right,” said Door. Her cheek lightly grazed and her dirty reddish hair was tangled; tangled but not matted. And her eyes…Richard realized that he could not tell what color her eyes were. They were not blue, or green, or brown, or gray; they reminded him of fire opals: there were burning greens and blues, and even reds and yellows that vanished and glinted as she moved. (Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere)