Quotes & Sayings About Killer Eyes

I heard a rumor that you make a killer chicken potpie." "Is getting your ass kicked making you hungry?" He lifted his middle finger, but smiled to lessen the insult. "I love chicken potpie." "You're goofy." His smile turned into a stern line, but his eyes were still laughing. "I'm scary as fuck." "Okay. You're scary. — L.A. Fiore

There's a feeling of shame that is more painful than any other in life; it's the shame felt by the victim who is forced to look his killer in the eyes, as if he were the creature bowing before its creator. — Sandor Marai

And now, the bane of your existence, the killer of all joys, the Stage Manager- — Lisa Mantchev

He seems like a good guy, but we need to focus on finding Nia's killer, and then finish the theater. We don't have time for distractions. No men."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Mel rolled her eyes.
"Inspiration before intercourse."
Callie chuckled. "I should put that on a T-shirt. — Lisa Kessler

You hate it, yes, but your eyes do not. Like a killer forest fire, like cancer under a microscope, any battle or bombing raid or artillery barrage has the aesthetic purity of absolute moral indifference - a powerful, implacable beauty - and a true war story will tell the truth about this, though the truth is ugly. To — Tim O'Brien

The minute that guy walked inside the front doors, Cody sat back and just stared. He was tall, dark, and exceedingly handsome with all that brawn and a killer smile. When he'd come to the bar and focused on Cody, training those amber eyes his way, Cody hardened to painful degrees. It had taken everything to keep himself nonchalant because that same man who currently rubbed about seventy-five percent of his body against Cody was his wet dream walking. Someone that could make him lose his mind and quite possibly his morals just to get a single taste. — Kindle Alexander

I closed my eyes. The monster had named itself now - stolen its name from the Son of Sam, who'd called himself Mr. Monster in a letter to the paper. He'd begged the police to shoot him on sight, so he wouldn't kill again. He couldn't stop himself.
But I could. I am not a serial killer.
I put down the knife. — Dan Wells

The Pig Chef was - if you thought about it - one of the more sinister icons of American roadside art. Danny's personal totem. What kind of pig is a butcher? What kind of pig cooks barbeque? A traitor pig, a killer pig, a doomed preterite pig destined for eternal damnation. Danny's Pig Chefs showed the full weight of this knowledge in their mocking eyes and snaggled snouts. — Rudy Rucker

There had been a local with them, to witness the veracity of the night's work. In the aftermath, as he stood in the doorway and stared down at the three corpses, he'd lifted his head and met Crokus's eyes. Whatever he saw in them had drained the blood from the man's face.
By morning Crokus had acquired a new name. Cutter.
At first he had rejected it. The local had misread all that had been revealed behind the Daru's eyes that night. Nothing fierce. The barrier of shock, fast crumbling to self-condemnation. Murdering killers was still murder, the act like the closing of shackles between them all, joining a line of infinite length, one killer to the next, a procession from which there was no escape. — Steven Erikson

I sighed at the spectacular realization that I had never really allowed myself to believe that real cowboys might actually exist, especially not one with brains and killer blue eyes, alive and breathing in my barn. This man was a real cowboy, not on the big screen, in my dreams or in my imagination, but here in my barn. — Carly Kade

I don't blame you for being upset, Sera. But what you need to be doing is getting pissed as fuck and then stab him in the nut sack with those killer stilettos." I look up at my best friend, Adam, and see the empathy in his eyes. "Fuck it! I'll stab him in the nuts, and then gouge his eyes out. Girl, I'll be the ... the fucking Nut Slayer! — Flora Roberts

Me? I was lucky to get a grunt from the local pizza delivery girl. And I had nice eyes too, not to mention a killer ass. There truly was no justice in the world. — Rob Thurman

What's she like?' Archie repeated softly. He put his hand on the trooper's shoulder and leaned forward, so his face was inched from his. Gretchen was a beautiful, sensual, charismatic, manipulative bitch, the object of Archie's sexual obsession, his torturer, and the person who knew him best in the world. 'She's a serial killer,' Archie said. He smiled and gave the trooper's shoulder an avuncular pat. 'If you ever lay eyes on her, shoot her.'
Archie turned to Henry. 'I'm ready to go back to the loony bin,' he said — Chelsea Cain

But as much as Greyson's overly warm body had to be worked around and compensated for in summer, at that moment she was eternally and ridiculously grateful for it. She almost thought she heard her own skin sizzle when it came into contact with his: some of the cramping in her muscles relaxed.
Only to tense up again when she saw, through her half-closed eyes, Greyson's second gaurd and Malleus's brother, Maleficarum, advancing on her with a hypodermic needle. Something clear squirted ominously from it's sharp silver tip.
"Oh, no," she managed, "You are not giving me a shot."
"'Sonly under the skin, m'lady. You'll barely even feel it, honest." Maleficarum's features did no do "innocent" well: he looked like a serial killer trying to hide a severed head behind his back. — Stacia Kane

jacket; skimmed them for anything I'd missed. Zoe's body was stiff and silent on the bed. Victim's faces can drop into a deceptive peace once they've quit breathing but that doesn't happen with strangulation. Zoe's blood-specked eyes reflected every second of her agony as she took her last look at the world. Get hit by a bus or get cornered by a killer, the result is the same. You're sloughed off in an instant from everything you know and love. No more hopes or fears. No more appointments or schedules or bills. But nothing in the photos explained why — Michael Donovan

Then it was just him and the killer in the room. Harrison's eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could now see a figure lying on the floor. Even so, he couldn't see well enough to identify him, but he didn't need to. He already knew who the killer was. — Trent Ruble

Angel was different in every way possible. When he looked at her with those cool gray eyes, she had no idea what he was thinking. That was kind of fun, She just hoped it didn't mean he was a serial killer. — Susan Mallery

The look in your eyes, boy. You're afraid. A man like you is afraid, I take stock." "I've known some fearless men. Hunted lions with them. A few of those gents forgot that Mother Nature is more of a killer than we humans will ever be and wound up getting chomped. She wants our blood, our bones, our goddamned guts. Fear is healthy. — Laird Barron

What your mind sees when you close your eyes marks the entrance to an endless universe: your imagination. — Stephen Helmes

He looked down at her and rolled his eyes then looked over and saw me approaching with the chain. "What happened to her?" I asked peeking around him. "I knocked her out. I got tired of listening to her whimpering. I mean if you're a cold blooded killer, act like it." He — Yolanda Olson

The eyes of someone you kill are immortal, if they face you at the fatal instant. They have a terrible black color. They shake you more than the streams of blood and the death rattles, even in a great turmoil of dying. The eyes of the killed, for the killer, are his calamity if he looks into them. They are the blame of the person he kills. — Francine Prose

We always thought the robot apocalypse would be fleets of killer drones and war mecha the size of apartment blocks and terminators with red eyes. Not a row of mechanised checkouts — Ian McDonald

Thousands of desires, each worth dying for...
Many of them I have realized...yet I yearn for more...
Why should my killer (lover) be afraid? No one will hold her responsible,
For the blood which will continuously flow through my eyes all my life. — Avinash Advani

It's difficult the first time you have to get close to kill another. You see their eyes, see the light in it go out. Even a troll's eyes have that light. I'd be worried if you didn't feel something after that. I don't like hunting with a man who's a killer without that feeling. — Raymond E. Feist

Mace had to be six foot three, had the prerequisite Nightingale Investigation Team killer bod; black hair, jade eyes and a jaw so square, it could be used in math class. — Kristen Ashley

Medina is shorter and not as physically gifted as Susan, but she has this intangible something that drives men crazy. Her tangible isn't bad either- she's five feet five inches of brown skin and killer curves, and those brown eyes of hers could charm cash from a miser.
Help me, Jesus.

Nate Carter in Long Term, from The Soul Of A Man — Maurice M. Gray Jr.

A ballsy killer with the body of a goddess and the mouth of a sailor - in his eyes, that was perfection. — Bethany K. Lovell

Their first stop, naturally, was the library, and here, by whirling flashlight beam, Fairfax's body was located. He lay facedown on the rug in the center of the room, with his eyes wide open and his arms outstretched as if in supplication. The medics had the adrenaline needles ready, but they didn't try to use them. It was already much too late. Fairfax had suffered first-degree ghost-touch, and it had left him swollen, blue, and dead. Immediate readings were carried out in the vicinity of the locket and all around the room, but everything came up negative. The spirit of Annie Ward - having been reunited with her killer - was nowhere to be found. — Jonathan Stroud

No, there was only one reason I was so fucking distracted that even a halfway decent blowjob was doing nothing for me. And that reason was wrapped up in a gorgeous 6'2 package of hard muscle, a lazy, killer smile and the most intense blue eyes I'd ever seen. That — Sloane Kennedy

I'm nothing but a thought in the mind of God,
I'm Satan's slave; I open my eyes and flee,
I'm mankind, I worship, and I kill,
All in the name of Love, hate
I'm the slaughtered lamb, I'm luzbel
I'm the one paying for your sins,
I'm your son; I am your mom and dad,
I'm the one, who worships God,
I'm a killer and a saint,
I'm just a thought in the mind of God.
I laugh and I suffer, I get killed, and I kill others,
I'm nothing but a thought in the mind of God
I'm compassion and rage, I love, I cheat, and I lie,
I tell the truth, I'm dead, I'm alive,
I'm in hell, the place people called paradise,
I am just a thought in the mind of God — Quetzal

So you went bike riding, then," she said. "Just around town? Out on the forest trails somewhere?"
"Yes," I said, "we went out to Forman's place."
Her face twisted, eyes widening, eyebrows curling, nostrils flaring. It was her "shocked" face, with a dash of "confused." "Really?"
"Of course not," I said, "but the face you just made almost makes this conversation worth it. — Dan Wells

I switched the light out again. The room was totally dark, not even the starlight showing while my eyes adjusted. Perhaps I would ask for one of those LED alarm radios, though I'm very fond of my old brass alarm clock. Once I tied a wasp tot the striking-surface of each of the copper-coloured bells on top, where the little hammer would hit them in the morning when the alarm went off.
I always wake up before the alarm goes, so I got to watch. — Iain Banks

Funny, he wasn't handsome, not in a Mr. Perfect kind of way, at least. The guy had a nose that had clearly been busted once or three times, and his hazel eyes were too shrewd and too exhausted to be classified as attractive. But he was like a cocked gun: He has a steely intelligence and a dangerous power about him that you respected. Because the combination was a flat-out killer, literally — J.R. Ward

We have become a Nazi monster in the eyes of the whole world - bullies and bastards who would rather kill than live peacefully. We are not just Whores for power and oil, but killer whores with hate and fear in our hearts. — Hunter S. Thompson

And him, in that killer suit, his head bent, his eyes shielded behind his aviators. No comment, the caption says. But the finger says plenty. — Katy Evans

You're a killer.... I never did peg you for an ordinary field agent. The way you carry yourself, the apathy in your eyes -- dangerous people recognize these things in other dangerous people. — E.J. Fisch

Your world is so different from mine. Do you guys have anything in common with humans?"
He looks at me with those killer eyes in that perfect face over his Adonis body. "Nothing we'll admit to."
"There's no way around it, is there?" I ask. "We're mortal enemies and I should be trying to kill you and everyone like you."
He leans over, touches the tip of his forehead to mine, and closes his eyes. "Yes." His gentle breath caresses my lips as he says the word.
I close my eyes too, and try to focus on the warmth of his forehead resting on mine. — Susan Ee

As I've gotten older, I have taught myself to act "normal." I can do it well enough to fool the average person for a whole evening, maybe longer. But it all falls apart if I hear something that elicits a strong emotional reaction from me that is different from what people expect. In an instant, in their eyes, I turn into the sociopathic killer I was believed to be forty years ago. — John Elder Robison

You must have been working very hard here, with so few distractions."
Mary's eyes darkened and she looked away.
"Not quite as much as I hoped for. At times the loneliness and the unanswered questions can get overwhelming, like very loud voices echoing inside my head, just asking 'why' 'who' and making me think about my wasted life. — Olga Nunez Miret

About Nick:
Trudy thanked him, he gave a shy duck of his head and almost ran out of the room.
Trudy smiled after him, liking his blue-green eyes, the brown hair that waved to his shoulders and the slightly crooked, lightly freckled nose. In a few years with more confidence on him, that young man is going to be a lady killer. — Debra Holland

"Cardinal Baggia," the killer hissed. "Have you prayed yet?" The Italian's eyes were fearless. "Only for your soul. — Dan Brown

We are not killers," Gideon says firmly.
"In my experience everyone is a killer." Baz's eyes go cold. He leans back against the wall. "Or a victim. Some people just need a little coaxing to choose a side. — Paula Stokes

Holy bejeezus," Lula said, eyes bugged out, looking at the building. "This is scaring the crap out of me. This is like where Dracula would live if he didn't have any money and was a crack-head. I bet it's filled with rabid bats and killer snakes and hairy spiders as big as dinner plated. — Janet Evanovich

The bottom line is ... if you were in the civilian population, you'd be a serial killer. Working for the government means you get to wave the American flag around when it suits you, but the truth is, you do what you do because you enjoy picking the wings off of flies. And everybody's an insect in your eyes. — J.R. Ward

I have to admit I wasn't to keen on this idea when you first told me you were going out at midnight to see him, but I guess maybe I was wrong ... Have you guys?
God, Karen. I rolled my eyes.
Oh well, let's not hope that's not the killer in the relationship since he sounds perfect in every other way.
Wow, thanks for spoiling it nerd. — Karice Bolton

Christopher Argent kept stealing disbelieving looks at Farah, his blue eyes reflecting the ambient glow like an alley cat's. Dorian understood why the man would dare in his presence.
First, because Christopher Argent was an unfeeling, fearless killer-for-hire.
And second, because most of the incarcerated men at Newgate had considered Dougan's Fairy some mythical creature, a sight too rare and beautiful to be beheld by a common man. Maybe even a fancy born of an imagination keen enough to take possession of the prison. To meet her was to gaze upon a fantasy realized, to remember the desperate yearnings of a lonely prisoner bereft of kindness, mercy, or beauty. To be blinded by the embodiment of all three of those things. For a man like Argent, one born to incarceration, the sight might have him reassessing some long-held cynical philosophies. — Kerrigan Byrne

If you want your son or daughter to be positive. Like to enjoy life and so on and so on - focus on the positive, nature, birds, quite and fast waterfalls... If you want to be negative which will mean a killer, a slaughter focus on the negative. Kill infront of the eyes a chicken slaughter it, fast and quick... do it often, read scary horror books! — Deyth Banger

Hello, Darkness," Caine said.
Gaia's face fell. Her bloody, feral grin faded to be replaced by lips drawn right with fear. Her killer blue eyes widened as she looked at Caine who was no longer Caine.
"Nemesis," Gaia said. — Michael Grant

Her eyes slid closed, her secret places pulsed in anticipation, and his lips settled onto the skin beneath her ear.
That was magic.
She held perfectly still.
He pressed a kiss to her neck. Then another, lower. A third, even lower.
She squirmed.
He dropped his hands. "Sorry. I---"
"Don't stop," Kimmie whispered. — Jamie Farrell

...the guy might be a cold-blooded amoral sadistic killer and a cartload of tiles short of a watertight roof, but there was nothing wrong with his intelligence. [Caligula in Marcus Corvinus's eyes] — David Wishart

Jace's eyes sparkled, but he said calmly, "Not at all. the Silent Brothers can help her retrieve her memories."
"You hate the Silent Brothers," protested Isabelle.
"I don't hate them," said Jace candidly."I'm afraid of them. It's not the same thing."
"I thought you said they were libarians," said Clary.
"They are librarians."
Simon whistled. "Those must be some killer late fees. — Cassandra Clare

Suicide" Kissshot said disappointedly .
Her eyes were downcast , facing the town spread out below her .
"A common reason , one accounting for nine-tenths of vampire deaths".
".....".
"Incidentally , the remaining tenth succumb to vampire slayers - any other reason fit within the margins of a rounding error".
"Suicide ? Why ?".
"Do they not speak of dying of boredom ?".
Boredom was a killer .
Guilt could kill you - but boredom was lethal . — NisiOisiN

When John took those naked pictures, the most popular singer was a girl with a tiny stick body and a large deferential head, who sang in a delicious lilt of white lace and promises and longing to be close. When she shut herself up in her closet and starved herself to death, people were shocked. But starvation was in her voice all along. That was the poignancy of it. A sweet voice locked in a dark place, but focused entirely on the tiny strip of light coming under the door.
I drop the rag in the bucket and smoke some more, ashing into the sink,. A tiny piece of the movie from the naked time plays on my eyeball: A psychotic killer is blowing up amusement parks. At the head of the crowd clamoring to ride the roller coaster is a slim, lovely man with long blond hair and floppy clothes and big, beautiful eyes fixed on a tiny strip of light that only he can see. — Mary Gaitskill

That was Kate's first thought. Phoebe had said cute. She'd said he was a nice guy. She had mentioned the killer smile and blue eyes, but she had failed to warn Kate that she wouldn't be able to breathe when she actually met Tucker's gaze directly. — Erin Nicholas

Omg this is like one of those sappy romance movies but I don't care! Jake is holding my hand! I looked back up at him and we slowly rose staring into each other's eyes. Ok, where the heck is my awesome music saying he's the one?! What about a breeze that blows my hair in all directions making me look hot? C'mon Cupid! Give me something!!! A weak chilly breeze blew. It barely even moved my hair. Oh c'mon!!!! — Bella Shadow

Syn closed his eyes as he savored the taste of her body. He'd never made love to a woman who knew anything about him. At least nothing more than the lies he'd told her.
But Shahara had stared into the abyss of his soul and seen the monster that lurked there. And she hadn't run.
Why?
What made her able to see the man when no one else ever had? In this one moment, he would give her anything.
Even his life.
I'm lost.
Lost in a way he'd never been before. Not even with Mara. Shahara made him want to be something more than a drunken thief and a paid killer.
She made him want to be a hero...
Pulling back, he stared at her dilated eyes and saw the ragged pleasure on her face. And as he gazed at her, he realized the truth.
I'm not lost. I'm found. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Another angel has snuck up on me. His wings are golden and his face chiseled, but he looks at me with the cold eyes of a killer. Before I can figure out what to do, snowy wings blot out the angel. It's Raffe. And he has two of his Watchers backing him up. — Susan Ee

He likes you. You like him, you're just scared. Well," she glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice, "unless you tell me he's some freaky psycho-killer ... " I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Then I'm not letting you mess this up for yourself. Your creepy hermit status is officially over. — A&E Kirk

The killer simply picked any one of the men in gray suits and followed them from office building to cash machine, from lunchtime restaurant back to office building. Those gray suits were not happy, yet showed their unhappiness only during moments of weakness. Punching the buttons of a cash machine that refused to work. Yelling at a taxi that had come too close. Insulting the homeless people who begged for spare change. But the killer also saw the more subtle signs of unhappiness. A slight limp in uncomfortable shoes. Eyes closed, head thrown back while waiting for the traffic signal. The slight hesitation before opening a door. The men in gray suits wanted to escape, but their hatred and anger trapped them. — Sherman Alexie

In the eyes of high morality, to be a victim is always more honourable than to be a killer! — Mehmet Murat Ildan

NOOOO! On the screen, a woman's eyes bugged almost out of her head, and I tried not to scream.
Tried not to scream in exasperation, I mean. The serial killer was right in front of her, wide open! Clearly, instead of weeping like a moron, she could be lunging forward and administering a swift uppercut to the chin. Then this entire pointless ordeal would be over with, and I could go home. — James Patterson

I'll give you this, Spartan. You sure can kiss. Feel free to lay one on me anytime you want to."
"Well, I do aim to please," he drawled. "You should see what I can do with my hands. And other parts of my body."
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously? You've been cut open like a fish, there's a psycho-killer Reaper after us, and you're still hitting me up for sex?"
Logan shrugged, but the devilish light didn't fade from his gaze. "Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying. — Jennifer Estep

I reached out and touched a tiny pink toe that peeked from Kaden's swaddling shirt. "He's beautiful," I said. "How are you feeling?"
"Well enough," she answered, rolling her eyes, "considering I just paraded my lady parts to a killer barbarian." She sighed. "But I suppose, compared to what you've been through, it's a small indignity to bear. — Mary E. Pearson