I warmed myself in its rays; their strength obliged me to half open, half shut my eyelids, smiling the while, and my eyelids, like alabaster lamps, were filled with a rosy glow.
Marcel Proust. In Search of Lost Time [volume 2]
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She was beautiful, with clear-drawn features and alabaster skin.
Diana Gabaldon. Outlander (1991)
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Before bathing he would perfume the pool with the salts that he carried in three alabaster flacons.
Gabriel García Márquez. One Hundred Years of Solitude, p.396 (1970)