Behind The Glasses Quotes & Sayings

The moral of the story couldn't be clearer: you already know if your partner is fucking around behind your back, you just need to decide if you're done being a doormat. You need to wake up one morning and decide that those rose-colored glasses are so last fucking season. — Brandi Glanville

The idea that hunting is one against one is ludicrous. It's one animal versus the hunter, the manufacturer of the rifle, the bullet maker, the designer and manufacturer of the telescopic sight, the auto manufacturer who made the car the hunter got to the edge of the wild in, the maker of his waterproof shoes, the various manufacturers of his mittens, glasses, overcoat
and that's only the beginning of the list. The "sportsman" who shoots an animal should then make a speech, like the actor who wins an Oscar does, thanking the multitudes behind the scenes who made this "victory" possible. — Dick Cavett

Gabe nodded a hello, a little shocked at the woman's appearance. She was a knockout. Dark auburn hair curling around her shoulders, pretty green eyes behind square black glasses. He looked back at Duncan but he was looking at the woman as well, and Gabe had been attached long enough to know that look. That was the 'I just want to look at you because you're so beautiful' look. He'd caught himself doing it with Julie more times than was probably acceptable. But he couldn't help himself. And judging by Duncan's look, he couldn't either. As — J.M. Madden

got a different table on the other side of the restaurant with her back facing us. She couldn't fool me. She was videotaping us with her phone. What she thought we would try in a restaurant, I have no idea. When I began to flip through the small, padded menu, Ray said, "Order anything you like. I'm paying." "You don't have to," I said automatically. He looked at me through his fake glasses, and his smile was weird. Too emotional to be Ray, but that kind of was Ray, so much thinking behind a mask of laughter, breaking out in bursts of caring beyond anything I could manage. He reached — Richard Roberts

If he was a member of the human race at all, Neumann was its least attractive specimen. His eyebrows, twitching and curling like two poisoned caterpillars, were joined together by an irregular scribble of poorly matched hair. Behind thick glasses that were almost opaque with greasy thumbprints, his grey eyes were shifty and nervous, searching the floor as if he expected that at any moment he would be lying flat on it. Cigarette smoke poured out from between teeth that were so badly stained with tobacco they looked like two wooden fences. — Philip Kerr

For the first time, I notice the lax skin at Mrs. Nightwing's jaw, the fine down that lies upon her cheek like the imprint of a childe's hand, and I wonder what it must be like watching yourself soften under the years, unable to stop it. what it's like measuring your days in perfecting girls' curtsies and drinking nightly glasses of sherry, trying to keep up with the world as it pulls you spinning into the furure, knowing you are always one step behind it. — Libba Bray

She stared at him. His eyes were glazed, glassy, blazing with triumph behind his glasses, and as his lip curled in a sneer, she felt it happen.
Her love for him - whatever shred of it was left - was gone. It had slunk away into the night. It would die out there, and she would not be sorry to leave it, at the side of the road, in a no-name town surrounded by nothing but blackness.
Quietly, she said, "Knew what, exactly?"
He licked his lips.
"I knew you'd never turn into such a whore without a little help."
"Good-bye."
The word was out, and she was gone. — Kat Rosenfield

Perhaps we should explore some other options before swanning off to Ireland," Dad said, pushing his glasses up. "After all, Sophie, you've been through quite the ordeal."
"I'll nap on the plane. Look, we are dealing with the possibility of an army of demons. I don't know about you guys, but those words are right up there with 'root canal' and 'school on Saturdays' in terms of things that terrify me. Were already three weeks behind. We don't have time to just sit here and explore options or read more books or listen to more half-assed prophecies from this jerk," I said, pointing to Torin. He made a gesture that I think was the old-timey version of flipping me off.
"So, yeah," I continued. "Maybe this is a totally stupid idea. But if there's even a chance one of us can get into the underworld, then we have to take it."
"Okay, I do like you," Finley said, flashing me a grin. — Rachel Hawkins

When they got to thew bottom of the stairwell, they stopped dead. Blay's father was facing off with a lesser, a Civil War sword in one hand, a dagger in the other.
Behind his Joe Friday glasses, his eyes were lit like torches, and they flicked over for a split second. "Stay out of this. This one's mine."
The shit was done faster than you can say, Ninja Dad.
Blay's father went Ginsu on the slayer, carving the thing up like a turkey, then stabbing it back to the Omega. — J.R. Ward

Flawless ... Tightly choreographed ... Shipstead gains entry into exclusive worlds and trains her opera glasses on private social rituals, as well as behind-the-scenes hanky panky ... Similar to classic ballet, the power of Astonish Me arises out of the pairing of a melodramatic storyline with scrupulously executed range of movement ... Shipstead sweeps you into this insider world of sweat, narcissism, and short-lived magic ... Transcendent. — Maureen Corrigan

Her latest client is Professor Desmond Curnin, a university professor who teaches library sciences to large groups of students. He's quick to pay on-time, quick to never fall behind. He's a brown-haired man with an unkempt beard and thick-framed hipster glasses. He slides a leather briefcase stuffed with dollar bills into the open window of Geraldine's car. "Your fly's unzipped," Geraldine points out, disgusted. "Who gave you a license to sell hot dogs, buddy? — Rebecca McNutt

Be like Grace: Wear large, dark glasses and a filmy scarf over your hair next time you go out in public. People will totally wonder who the mysterious beauty is, standing in line behind them at Blockbuster. — Meg Cabot

If you'd told me even a year before ... that I'd wind up whispering my sins in the confessional or on my knees saying the rosary, I would've laughed myself cockeyed. More likely pastime?Pole dancer. International spy. Drug mule. Assassin.
I drive under a sky black as graphite to meet my new spiritual director ... a bulky Franciscan nun named Sister Margaret, patiently going blind behind fish-tank glasses that magnify her eyes like goggles. — Mary Karr

The old man asked again. "When I'm gone." His eyes blinked from behind his glasses. His neatly trimmed beard was gray, and he stood slightly stooped. Are you dying? I asked. "Not yet," he said, grinning. Then why - "Because I think you would — Mitch Albom

We have every book you'll need," Mr. Reynolds said with a wink behind his Coke-bottle glasses. "Just ask." "Every book I'll ever need? Sounds like Heaven," she said with smile. "It's a library," he said. "To me it's the same thing." That — Tiffany Reisz

The beard was actually less Dumbledore, more Hemingway, but the eyes behind the lenses of his glasses were a brilliant shade of blue that naturally suggested a man who could cast runes and speak to trees. Harper — Joe Hill

You do not know me, Perry.""No, I guess not.""Perhaps by the end of the evening you will."I looked at her. What was that supposed to mean? Ever since her comment about blood, I realized I'd been thinking about Sissy Spacek in Carrie, the high school loser in her homemade prom dress, drenched in pig blood, unleashing a firestorm of psychokinetic destruction on the high school gym ... The distress must have shown on my face, because for the first time ever, Gobi actually laughed. Her eyes sparkled, a bright and glinting green behind her glasses, and for an instant the light transformed her entire face - the bland, expressionless mask slipped away to reveal an actual girl underneath: feminine, uninhibited, spontaneous, and alive. It occurred to me that I might have been missing something this whole time. — Joe Schreiber

If you ever go behind the glass and look at the focus groups that are deciding what you're gonna watch, it's scary. This cross-section of people they just happen to bring in to decide the fate of mankind on television is really scary. — Adrian Pasdar

I was breaking down, wanting to fade away and cry, yet I feared ever being invisible again. My head lowered to conceal my humiliation behind a curtain of hair where I trembled as if sobbing.
"Hey, Gwen, it's okay. It's okay. Calm down."
I yearned to feel Daniel's soft touch meet my temple and then trace along my ear, brushing back the hairs from my face. What I wanted was the comfort his caress always afforded me. He moved as if he would grant my wish, realizing at the last moment that neither of us possessed the power to touch the other.
"Your hair, Gwen."
I refused to do what he wanted. I didn't care for him to see the shame plainly visible in my features. But the next thing I knew, his blue eyes were staring up at me from the ground, a glare reflecting off his glasses. The guy had dropped his books to fall over for a clear view of my face. His desperation made me laugh.
"It's going to be okay, Gwen, I promise."
- from "Phantom's Veil — Richelle E. Goodrich

All the dying that summer began with the death of a child, a boy with golden hair and thick glasses, killed on the railroad tracks outside New Bremen, Minnesota, sliced into pieces by a thousand tons of steel speeding across the prairie toward South Dakota. His name was Bobby Cole. He was a sweet-looking kid and by that I mean he had eyes that seemed full of dreaming and he wore a half smile as if he was just about to understand something you'd spent an hour trying to explain. I should have known him better, been a better friend. He lived not far from my house and we were the same age. But he was two years behind me in school and might have been held back even more except for the kindness of certain teachers. He was a small kid, a simple child, no match at all for the diesel-fed drive of a Union Pacific locomotive. It — William Kent Krueger

I looked over at him, a hump of bloodied flesh on the floor, his wire-rimmed glasses askew on his face. His eyes opened behind them. "Fuck!" My heart exploded and I covered my mouth to keep from screaming. It was the first normal reaction I'd had since waking up in here. "Fuck," I said again. Wayne's small, piggy eyes followed my every movement. He was alive. Conscious. — Michelle Hodkin

I started hiding my paintings in certain ways, like behind panes of glass for example. Then, instead of hiding them I did something quite cold and clinical: I built a wooden box, filled it with enamel paint and dunked the painting in so you could only see a suggestion of it from a controlled point of view. — Oliver Jeffers

The human mind prefers something which it can recognize to something for which it has no name, and, whereas thousands of persons carry field glasses to bring horses, ships, or steeples close to them, only a few carry even the simplest pocket microscope. Yet a small microscope will reveal wonders a thousand times more thrilling than anything which Alice saw behind the looking-glass. — David Fairchild

Corey was hanging out down by the port one afternoon with Karl and Jacques when a bus-load of american tourists drove by, and in a moment of clarity Corey suddenly perceived Karl in the light of reality rather than through the kaleidoscope of fashion: the tourists were staring open-mouthed through the bus windows, ice creams held in mid-air, gawping at the apparition that was Karl. Jacques was driving the mobylette and Karl sat behind riding side-saddle dressed in hot pants, long strands of pearls and dark glasses; he was wielding a raw frankfurter straight from the packet in one hand and a bottle of coca-cola in the other. I remember thinking "I am with this total freak," says Corey. — Alicia Drake

I added pieces the same way I'd constructed my body, from the inside out: boy-cut panties first (lacy), bra (sheer), stockings (thigh high), knee-length leather skirt (black), lime green midriff-baring shirt (polyester). David leaned against the wall and watched this striptease-in-reverse with fabulously expressive eyebrows slowly climbing toward heaven, I finished it off with a pair of strappy lime green three-inch heels, something from the Manolo Blahnik spring collection that I'd seen two months ago in Vogue.
He looked me over, blinked behind the glasses, and asked, "You're done?"
I took offense, "Yeah. You with the fashion police?"
"I don't think I'd pass the entrance exam." The eyebrows didn't come down. "I never knew you were so ... "
"Fashionable?"
"Not really the word I was thinking."
I struck a pose and looked at him from under my supernaturally lustrous eyelashes. "Come on, you know it's sexy."
"And that's sort of my point. — Rachel Caine

I jumped up from the bed and paced the small space in front of Romeo. He was absolutely nuts.
"Why the hell would you do that?" I asked.
Then I stubbed my toe on the edge of my desk.
"Ow!" I hissed and doubled over while bouncing around on one foot.
"You're like a one-woman show," Romeo remarked from behind me. His voice was clearly amused.
"I need my glasses," I muttered, hopping around and reaching for them somewhere near my bed. I knocked something over and it fell to the floor.
"Whoa there, graceful," Romeo said and scooped me up in his arms.
I let out a little squeak in surprise. "Put me down."
"No," he said mildly. "You are a danger to yourself."
I made a hmph sound and he snickered.
- Rimmel & Romeo — Cambria Hebert

I sit down and say, and I run all my friends and relatives and enemies one by one in this, without entertaining any angers or gratitudes or anything, and I say, like 'Japhy Ryder, equally empty, equally to be loved, equally a coming Buddha,' then I run on, say to 'David O. Selznick, equally empty, equally to be loved, equally a coming Buddha' though I don't use names like David O. Selznick, just people I know because when I say the words 'equally a coming Buddha' I want to be thinking of their eyes, like you take Morley, his blue eyes behind those glasses, when you think 'equally a coming Buddha' you think of those eyes and you really do suddenly see the true secret serenity and the truth of his coming Buddhahood. Then you think of your enemy's eyes. — Jack Kerouac

If more of our so-called leaders would walk the same streets as the people who voted them in, live in the same buildings, eat the same food instead of hiding behind glass and steel and bodyguards, maybe we'd get better leadership and a little more concern for the future. — Bruce Boxleitner

It seemed to me the basic definition of mental illness, this persistent, painful inability to simply be with someone else. It might be lifelong, or it might descend like a sudden catastrophe, this blankness between ourselves and the rest of the world. The blankness might not even be obvious to others. But on our side of that severed connection, it was hell, a life lived behind glass. The only difference between mild depression and severe schizophrenia was the amount of sound and air that seeped in. — Tracy Thompson

What notion did you have of Canada when you came?" Mistry smile delicately, the face behind the trimmed beard and glasses like that of a student. "I thought it would complete me. — Noah Richler

Someone's got to break the glass ceiling, and once it's broken, everybody else comes clamouring up behind. — Helen Clark

The bullet smashed through the right lens of Winston's glasses and slammed him back against the lounge wall. Ozzy was expressionless as his old friend slid down the wall leaving a smear of red behind him. Above his creased body, a gob of pale tissue clung onto the light switch. "Aw, Winston," he said, "you did have a brain after all! — Andrew Barrett

The woman had thick plastic glasses and looked up at them, eyes large as eggs behind the lenses, and asked, "Jeez, who got murdered? — John Sandford

And yet, though desirous to be gone, she could not quit the mansion-house, or look an adieu to the cottage, with its black, dripping and comfortless veranda, or even notice through the misty glasses the last humble tenements of the village, without a saddened heart. Scenes had passed in Uppercross which made it precious. It stood the record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now softened; and of some instances of relenting feeling, some breathings of friendship and reconciliation, which could never be looked for again, and which could never cease to be dear. She left it all behind her, all but the recollection that such things had been. — Jane Austen

In the most extreme cases, I would pull a big pair of glasses out of my pocket and carefully slide them up my nose, almost past the bridge. Then I wasn't pretending anymore: everything was a blur, the other person's pimples disappeared. Behind my thick lenses, I could say anything, without worrying about possible consequences. I felt my body flow into this gelatinous mist effortlessly, gracefully as a drop of oil falling into a glass of water. Blindness set me free. No longer a slave to outward forms, I finally became myself. — Marie Nimier

I feel in every girl there is a spirit,
a wild pixie,
that if let go,
would run and dance in grassy fields
until the end of the world.
And then that girl grows up,
that pixie hides,
but it's always there,
peeking out behind old eyes
and reading glasses,
laughing, waiting,
to one day dance again. — Atticus

We try to make guests feel welcome," said Dee, scuttling behind his desk. He pulled off his pointed hat and, to Vimes's amazement, put on a pair of thick smoked glasses.
"You had papers?" he said. Vimes handed them over.
"It says here "His Grace"," the dwarf said, after reading them for awhile.
"Yes, that's me."
"And there's a sir."
"That's me, too."
"And an excellency."
"'fraid so." Vimes narrowed his eyes. "I was blackboard monitor for awhile, too. — Terry Pratchett

The first class of readers may be compared to an hour-glass, their reading being as the sand; it runs in and runs out, and leaves not a vestige behind. A second class resembles a sponge, which imbibes everything, and returns it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtier. A third class is like a jelly-bag, which allows all that is pure to pass away, and retains only the refuse and dregs. The fourth class may be compared to the slave of Golconda, who, casting aside all that is worthless, preserves only the pure gems. — Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Castles in the air bow gracefully; Well protected - A little dreaming in pink glasses - Behind every joyful morning is a magical awakening. — Kristian Goldmund Aumann

And she could clearly remember how the first time she met him, he was like a sketch paper filled with grey and blue and black, all mixed up together forming a confusing storm, the second time she met him was like red and orange and everything that burned, the third time it was raining and it felt like the storm would never end.
And she felt right now that the storm is ending. When he took his glasses off and she saw the sadness in his eyes, and she could clearly see how the storm is going to leave soon, but yet leaving behind it broken pieces and shattered glasses. — Basma Salem

Oh, it must be an epidemic,' the priest said; and his eyes were smiling behind his glasses. — Albert Camus

Viewed from a distance, his character projected an impression of solidity and wholeness which was in fact as insubstantial as a hologram; up close, he was all motes and light, you could pass your hand right through him. If you stepped back far enough, however, the illusion would click in again and there he would be, bigger than life, squinting at you from behind his little glasses and raking back a dank lock of hair with one hand. — Donna Tartt

'Participant' is the incontrovertible new concept given by quantum mechanics. It strikes down the 'observer' of classical theory, the man who stands safely behind the thick glass wall and watches what goes on without taking part. It can't be done, quantum mechanics says it ... May the universe in some sense be 'brought into being' by the participation of those who participate? — John Archibald Wheeler

As for their houses, it is no use looking for them, because they are the exact opposite of our houses. You can see our houses by day but you can't see them by dark. Well, you can see their houses by dark, but you can't see them by day, for they are the colour of night, and I never heard of anyone yet who could see night in the daytime. This does not mean that they are black, for night has its colours just as day has, but ever so much brighter. Their blues and reds and greens are like ours with a light behind them. The palace is entirely built of many-coloured glasses, and is quite the loveliest of all royal residences, — J.M. Barrie

The viewer who sees only a study in the picture of the glass jug illuminated from behind fails to appreciate the masterly composition, the noble purity of the lines, the rich plasticity of the form and consequently also the poetry and beauty of the picture, and still more important, its specifically photographic qualities. — Alexander Rodchenko