Deep Into My Eyes Quotes & Sayings

Yes, Ally?" What have I done? I try to figure out what I should say. Maybe ask to go get a drink? But the thing is that something deep inside me really does want to answer. Because I'm an expert on these two words. I know what they mean. And how they feel. Especially after that butterfly party. Mr. Daniels's eyes are wide, and they are waiting for me. "Ally?" he says. "It's okay, now. Take your time." And it's like he can see right into my guts. Knows how sad I am. Like he's handing me a flashlight in a dark room. I — Lynda Mullaly Hunt

Civilization was a dance, and the ancient Wyr were late to the ball. They donned masks and slipped with silent predatory grace into the ballroom. They watched with sharp eyes that glittered deep in the shadows behind their assumed facades, recording and learning the twist and rhythm of the dance, the social mores, when to bow and press their lips to the back of the hand, how to smile and say good evening, please and thank you and yes, I shall take more sugar with my tea.
All the while they noted the pulse that fluttered at the base of the dancers' necks, the scents of sweat and the quickened breath. — Thea Harrison

The light flickers on all of us and makes us look softer and more beautiful than we really are. But sometimes it makes us darker and scarier too, when the faces go into shadow and you can't see the eyes, only the eye sockets. Deep pools of blackness welling out of our heads. My — Margaret Atwood

Her pain was so unexpected, so raw, and deep, a penetrating, all-encompassing pain. It was no longer her pain, but ours. Whatever her thoughts were, brought tears to her eyes, lips trembled, and her fists clenched as though she were ready to crumble into ash. It was impossible to stop my own tears from coming. What I wouldn't give to take this ache from her. — Ashlan Thomas

Tears flood in you
your eyes burning
your heart scars with my name scratched deep
My face is gone
my heart betrayed by your lullabies
I'm a shadow of a girl inside
Hands are touching you
nothing takes the place of you
Heart wrench, weeps goodbye
Lullabies, beautiful and trusting
Barely breathing as they break into dust
Lonely corners me
Sweeps me off my feet
Shows me it was better for me
Fingertips holding close
your grip not as soft
Follows me to an empty bed
I can't stop the weakening of my soul
my body is dying
your tune is holding my mind
Let me go
see what I do
No control
No you
You whisper your sweet goodbye
If it is small it won't interrupt my sleep
But my heart you keep
You say it's for me
But who would be happy?
Alone left out in the cold — Mercy Cortez

Good night," I whisper to the bow in my hand and feel it go still. I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta's eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock. "Let me go!" I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. "I can't," he says. As they pull me away from him, I feel the pocket ripped from my sleeve, see the deep violet pill fall to the ground, watch Cinna's last gift get crunched under a guard's boot. — Suzanne Collins

When I'm about to blow the candles on my birthday cake and everybody is telling me I must make a wish, I just go into a tailspin. I'm thinking: what do I wish?, and I just can't seem to think about anything. Then I close my eyes, take a deep breath and there comes my wish. I don't know how to explain what goes on inside of me, but that's what happens: breathing is the key to understand what's really important to me. — Kristen Stewart

."I'm so in love with you, Summer. I don't think that will ever change," he says into my hair.
My eyes close as I fall into deep sleep. — Chantal Fernando

I almost forgot," said Red. His voice sounded very strange, as if from a long, long distance. He reached into his pocket. "I have something for you."
He put it into my hand. A round, shiny, perfect apple, green as new grass with a faint blush of rosy pink. And now his eyes had changed so that I saw what lay there, hidden deep, so deep only the bravest or most foolhardy would seek to find it.
He has always understood me better, without words. So I laid my hand on my heart, held it there for a moment, and then moved it over and touched my palm against his breast. My heart. Your heart. — Juliet Marillier

I can't promise that I'll be able to give you everything you deserve, Adelaide." He gazes deep into my eyes and his fingers skim my cheeks, tucking strand of black behind my ears. "But I can promise you that I'll try."
Yes. We both have issues.
And I know that if we want to overcome all of our issues the only way we'll be able to do it, is together. — Lauren Hammond

A voice: "My goodness, Nurse Jones." I look up, startled. Simon's in the doorway, leaning against the frame, smiling.
No doubt I'm quite the sight in my bloody, sexy nurse's outfit, sitting on a bed next to a tied-up, taped-up target. "Oh, please." I collect my purse, my phone and my stun gun and walk around the bed.
Simon's smile reaches deep into his dark blue eyes. He has a long face and delicate features for a man.
I grab the sleeve of his black jacket and pull him into the outer room.
"What the fuck are you wearing? You look insane," he says.
"This? This is the creepy outfit the Alchemist put me in after he kidnapped me."
Simon stops smiling. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. — Carolyn Crane

What exactly is your job here?'
'So that's what you've dragged yourself out here to ask. See now I'm disappointed, you could have at least come out in that state just because you wanted to see me,' he said with a smirk.
'How do you know that's not another reason?'
'I don't!' he said, walking towards me.
He stopped a few inches in front of me and looked deep into my eyes, while leaning on the car. I swallowed hard. — Lindsay Anne Kendal

He asked, looking at her dark-rimmed eyes, "You do not sleep?"
She shivered. "No. I do not want to sleep any more. I sleep too much already. It is so cold, where Quincy sends me in my sleep. Deep into the house, farther in, not into the house we see. It is as if that house were a face, and when you see a face you can't see the brain or the thoughts of the person behind it. And it is so strange - the house inside the house."
********
"How is it strange - this that you call the house inside the house?"
She said vaguely, her eyes growing glassy, "Strange. Shapes change, and sizes. The rooms are different: bigger and blacker and longer and the shadows are full of things. Creatures - or sometimes the rooms get smaller, fewer, and the furnishings change and change, like the scenes in a kaleidoscope, and I see the people in the portraits walking about in them. — Evangeline Walton

I see you look at me when you think I'm not aware
You're searching for clues of just how deep my feelings are
How do you prove the sky is blue, the oceans wide?
All I know is what I feel when I look into your eyes
I promise you from the bottom of my heart
I will love you till death do us part
I promise you as a lover and a friend
I will love you like I never love again
With everything that I am — Backstreet Boys

I saw something moving round the foot of the bed, which at first I could not accurately distinguish. But I soon saw that it was a sooty-black animal that resembled a monstrous cat. It appeared to me about four or five feet long for it measured fully the length of the hearthrug as it passed over it; and it continued to-ing and fro-ing with the lithe, sinister restlessness of a beast in a cage. I could not cry out, although as you may suppose, I was terrified. Its pace was growing faster, and the room rapidly darker and darker, and at length so dark that I could no longer see anything of it but its eyes. I felt it spring lightly on the bed. The two broad eyes approached my face, and suddenly I felt a stinging pain as if two large needles darted, an inch or two apart, deep into my breast. I waked with a scream. — J. Sheridan Le Fanu

Her eyes were a rich dark brown that were so deep, they reminded me of my sleepless nights, awake, staring into complete darkness. I felt compelled to look deeper, searching for something inside her, but her soul was covered and her eyes would not show me. — Cristina Martin

Cold air clawed at my face, ripping tears from my eyes. I buried my face deep into Daniel's back and breathed in a mixture of familiar scents - almonds, oil paint, earth, and a hint of varnish. I didn't even question why I was on that bike. I just knew I was suppose to be. — Bree Despain

It's all right," he says. "But maybe - you could - " He looks into my eyes, deep, and I know what he wants. A kiss. — Ally Condie

Our group pressed west on what was left of Highway 93, toward the pass leading to Las Vegas. Sand covered the road in loose drifts so deep the horses' hooves sank into them. The metal highway signs were bent low by the strong wind, and above us, billboards that once screamed ads for the casinos were now stripped of their promises of penny slots and large jackpots. The raw boards underneath were exposed, like showgirls without their makeup. Some signs had been blown over completely and lay half-buried under mounds of sand, like sleeping animals.
Cars dotted the highway, their paint scoured off and dead tumbleweeds caught underneath them. Their windows were fogged with death, and despite my effort not to look, my eyes were drawn to the blurred images of the still forms inside. I tried to concentrate on the dark road ahead of us instead. — Kirby Howell

I take a deep breath and calm my face, trying as best as I can to put yearning into my eyes. It's not that hard. Green dick or not, I'd hit that...if I made absolutely any effort to hit anything. — Stacey Wallace Benefiel

Snuggle up with a hot fireman! Meet Tanner West.
Sharon looked up into the most gorgeous face she had ever seen. Eyes like dark chocolate, deep and warm, stared out at her from a face that looked like it could have been chiseled in stone. Skin the color of burnished copper, high cheekbones, a sharp nose, full lips, and a cleft chin. How the hell had she failed to notice him before? Her heart skipped a beat and she ran her gaze down the rest of his body. He was tall, well over six feet, she would guess, with broad shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. His thighs, encased in worn denim, fit like a second skin against legs the size of tree trunks, and oh my, what lay between those thighs ... Her attention snapped back to his face and she could feel the heat of a blush suffuse her skin. — Tamara Hoffa

Baby Girl," I say. "I need you to remember everything I told you. Do you remember what I told you?"
She still crying steady, but the hiccups is gone. "To wipe my bottom good when I'm done?"
"No, baby, the other. About what you are."
I look deep into her rich brown eyes and she look into mine. Law, she got old-soul eyes, like she done lived a thousand years. And I swear I see, down inside, the woman she gone grow up to be. A flash from the future. She is tall and straight. She is proud. She got a better haircut. And she is remembering the words I put in her head. Remembering as a full grown woman.
And then she say it, just like I need her to. "You is kind," she say, "you is smart. You is important. — Kathryn Stockett

Love is when Looking at a glance at you
I found laughter in my eyes, Thoughts turns into jewels Where luster of your aura dwells — Seema Gupta

I felt tears sting into my eyes, and took a deep swallow of the first champagne I had ever tasted, remembering that I had read somewhere that the monk who invented it said, on first tasting it, 'It is like drinking stars'. — Anne Rivers Siddons

Look at me and don't stop." He tightened his hands under my ass cheeks and started pumping into me. Hard. Deep. Punishing really but I didn't care. I wanted this from him as I stared into eyes burning blue fire at me. "Ethan! — Raine Miller

We never really had a beginning. For months, we fought and insulted each other. Then we combusted into bed. We pretended what happened didn't matter, but it did, Blondie. You matter." "Braeden," I whispered and took a step farther into the room. He shook his head. "All the shit with Missy, and Zach ... hell, even with my father, it got in our way. I let it. This is me swearing I won't let it again. This is me swearing this is our beginning. You're it for me." He took a breath, and I watched his chest rise with it. His dark, chocolate eyes latched onto mine. "Because I still don't like you, Blondie." I started to roll my eyes. "I love you." My heart stopped. Everything stopped. That place deep down inside me burned and tingled. "I don't like you either." My voice wobbled. The intensity of his stare drilled right into me, like he was seating desperately for my reply. "I love you so damn much," I confessed.
-Braeden & Ivy — Cambria Hebert

All emotion disappeared from his face and he took a deep breath through his nose. "I know what you're trying to do." His eyes unfocused for a moment, lost in thought. "I'll just have to prove it to you, then." His eyes narrowed as he looked into my eyes, determined as he was before one of his fights. "If you think I'm just going to go back to fucking around, you're wrong. I don't want anyone else. You wanna be friends? Fine, we're friends. But you and I both know that what happened wasn't just sex. — Jamie McGuire

Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;
I look far out into the pregnant night,
Where I can hear a solemn booming gun
And catch the gleaming of a random light,
That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.
My tearful eyes my soul's deep hurt are glassing;
For I would hail and check that ship of ships.
I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,
My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,
And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing.
O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing,
O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!
Is there no hope for me? Is there no way
That I may sight and check that speeding bark
Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing? — Paul Laurence Dunbar

The thing is, Max," he said, tons of heart-wringing emotion in his eyes, "you're even more special than I always told you. You see, you were created for a reason. Kept alive for a purpose, a special purpose." You mean besides seeing how well insane scientists could graft avian DNA into a human egg? He took a breath, looking deep into my eyes. I coldly shut down every good memory I had of him, every laugh we'd shared, every happy moment, every thought that he was like a dad to me. "Max, that reason, that purpose is: You are supposed to save the world." 62 Okay, I couldn't help it. My jaw dropped open. I shut it again quickly. Well. This would certainly give weight to my ongoing struggle to have the bathroom first in the morning. — James Patterson

There's a transparent face that looks deep into my eyes, baring my soul, right before terror consumes me and the image becomes a black mass of horror. — Brandy Nacole

I guess part of me hoped that you'd come to me because you trusted me to help. And because maybe you missed me, just a little."
Beka took a deep breath. "Just a little? Hell, Marcus, it felt like I was missing half my soul."...
His hazel eyes stared into hers, as if he could read her mind, or maybe her heart, which stuttered and skipped as if it only half remembered how to beat.
Then he said in a low, fervent voice, "I think I found it for you." He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in strength and warmth and longing, tugging her in close until his lips met hers. — Deborah Blake

That was when I lost it. I couldn't take any more. Not with him that close, his deep voice that sweet, his hand on me, his eyes looking into mine like he could see into my soul. — Kristen Ashley

I believe I can read a little in the souls of those around me; maybe it is not so. Oh, when I have a good day I feel as if I can peer deep into other people's souls, although I don't have a particularly good head on my shoulders. We sit in a room, some men and women and I, and I seem to see what is going on in the hearts of these people and what they think of me. I put something into every flashing glance of their eyes; occasionally the blood rushes to their cheeks so they turn red, at other times they pretend to be looking another way while still watching me out of the corner of their eyes. There I sit observing all this, and nobody suspects that I see through every soul. For several years I have thought I could read the souls of everybody. Maybe it is not so. . . . — Knut Hamsun

As Robin thought about what he had just said, Noah got up from the chair and knelt down in front of her. 'How about I give you three reasons? Morning, day, and night.'
She narrowed her eyes.
'Stay ... so every morning when I open my eyes, you'll be the first thing I see. Stay ... so every day when I'm with you, I can show you all over again exactly how much you mean to me. And stay ... so every night when you lay your head down next to mine, you'll know ... you'll know just how much you're loved.'
Her eyes drifted to the water as she thought for a moment, returning to look deep into Noah's eyes.
'Okay, Noah ... I'll stay. — Sebastian Cole

The first time you tried to save people, you were certain of victory?"
"Yes. In my pride, I knew I could not fail."
"Then, in your mind, you were risking nothing. Are you certain of victory tonight?"
Roman stared into the darkness of the booth. "No, I am not."
"Then why are you risking your life?"
Tears filled his eyes. "I cannot bear for them to risk their own. I ... love them."
The priest took a deep breath. "Then you have your answer. You do this not out of pride, but out of love. And since love comes from the Father, He has not abandoned you."
Roman scoffed."You do not understand the magnitude of my sins."
"Perhaps you do not understand the magnitude of God's forgiveness. — Kerrelyn Sparks

Celaena threw her weight into the dagger she held aloft, and gained an inch. His arms strained. She was going to kill him. She truly going to kill him.
He made himself look into her eyes, look at the face so twisted with rage that he couldn't find her.
"Celaena," he said, squeezing her wrists so hard that he hoped the pain registered somewhere- wherever she had gone. But she still wouldn't lossen her grip on the blade. "Celaena, I'm your friend."
She stared at him, panting through gritted teeth, her breath coming quicker and quicker before she roared, the sound filling the room, his blood, his world: "You will never be my friend. You will always be my enemy."
She bellowed the last word with such soul-deep hated that he felt it like a punch to the gut. She surged again, and he lost his grip on the wrist that held the dagger. The blade plunged down. — Sarah J. Maas

So in the middle of all the noise, I point to the sky. I hope he understands what I mean, because I mean so many things: My heart will always fly his name. I won't go gentle. I'll find a way to soar like the angels in the stories and I will find him. And I know he understands as he looks straight at me, deep into my eyes. His lips move silently, and I know what he says: the words of a poem that only two people in the world know. Tears well up but I blink them away. Because if there is one moment in my life that I want to see clearly, this is it. — Ally Condie

Very well, but remember this ... I'll be looking at you when you're laid on the cross and the twelve blows are crashing down on your limbs. When the crowd is finally tired of your screams and wandered home, I will climb up through your blood and sit beside you. I will look deep into your eyes ... and drop by drop I will trickle my disgust into them like burning acid until ... finally ... you perish. — Patrick Suskind

One stood behind me and ran her hands down my chest, her breasts rubbing against my back. The next stood in front of me holding onto my shirt and pulling me close to her as she ground into me seductively. The third danced slowly and seductively with the second girl, giving the girl-on-girl effect. I knew I was going to burst at any moment, so I had to close my eyes and take repeated deep breaths to calm down.
"What's the matter Aid-man, you feeling a little frustrated?" Dixon boasted from under his lap dancer.
"Shut up Dixon." Though I didn't really want him to shut up, his teasing was distracting me pretty well. "I'm going to kill you for this."
"Oh no little man!" He laughed loudly. "Thank your future wife! That one is on her!" he howled. — Sadie Grubor

For as I am standing there I look closer into the grandstand and see that there is someone waiting. It is my mother, and all at once I cannot stop seeing her. Her skin is rough. Her whole face seems magnetized, like ore. Her deep brown eyes are circled with dark skin, but full of eagerness. In her eyes I see the force of her love. It is bulky and hard to carry, like a package that keeps untying. It is like this dress that no excuse accounts for. It is embarrassing. I walk to her, drawn by her, unable to help myself. — Louise Erdrich

He swallowed hard and looked deep into my eyes so intensely, I tried hard not to look away. I didn't want him to see how mildly scared of him I was. I touched the hand in his lap and he answered. — Mercy Cortez

Whenever I close my eyes, I see her. Scarlet. I see her smiling. I see her crying. I hear her laughter flowing through me, sending chills down my spine. The sound of her moaning creeps through my bloodstream, the face she makes in the throes of passion the pulse that spurs it on. Whatever this is I'm feeling, I want it to stop. I want it to go away. I want to stop fucking seeing her every time I blink. I want to stop fucking thinking about her every time I pause to take a deep breath. She's like an infection that's settling into my chest. I would rip out my own organs if I thought it might purge her from my system. — J.M. Darhower

You're not my words, Emma." I said, standing up and staring at the door while pretending to be gazing deep into her pretty hazel eyes. "But you're my numbers. You're all of my numbers." I paused, listened, and figured she had fallen asleep. "You're my infinity. — Morgan Parker

Take me into my room, Vaughn. Take control so I don't have to. I want you to. I want you to lay me down on that bed and take what you want. You want to right?" I looked deep into his hard eyes and shivered at the heat I found in them. "I bet you've thought about it. Fucking the hostile Princess of the Boardwalk into submission. — Samantha Young

Kai held firm to her with one hand, and pointed up with the other. 'I can see them, Elliot. I can see them all. In the night, in the day, through clouds and storms and the setting sun.'
She stared at him in wonder. This was his miracle, and he was sharing it with her. 'Thank you,' she said, 'for coming back for me.'
'Elliot.' He bent his head close to hers, and looked deep into her eyes. His gaze was no longer strange to her. He was just her Kai, the man he'd been born to become. 'No matter where I went, I always knew my way back to you. You are my compass star.'
And he was hers. — Diana Peterfreund

The ancient paused for a moment, as if his strength were failing. Yet I sensed that there was more to tell. Looking deep into my eyes, he whispered:
'The Gond kingdoms have fallen, their people live dispersed in poverty: the teak trees and the jungles have been cleared ... but the importance of the Gonds must not be forgotten! — Tahir Shah

He stumbled forward, "Can I mix my baby batter with your eggs?" he slurred trying to reach up and kiss me.
I pushed him off me, yelling, "Get away!"
"Don't touch her," he commanded. His eyes were wide, angry, his voice deep and threatening. He, too, smelled like alcohol, but I didn't care in this moment. He was here getting this creep away from me. His hands held me tightly, pressing my body into his. My breath quickened being so close to Cade. He sensed my distress, giving me a slight squeeze. — Felicia Tatum

There are two things in this life people cannot touch", Edward finally said,staring deep into my frightened eyes."Me and my family."

Confused by his statement I glanced up at him,"I'm neither."

"Your right", he confirmed reaching out to clasp my hand again,giving them an admant squeeze.
"You're both.Your a part of me and one day I hope you'll be apart of my family as well. — Hoodfabulous

Oh my God, Abby," he breathed. He rocked into me again, another hum emanating from his throat. "Holy shit, you feel amazing."
"Is it different?"
He looked into my eyes. "It's different with you, anyway, but," he took in a deep breath and tensed again, closing his eyes for a moment, "I'm never going to be the same after this. — Jamie McGuire

Drelmere and sons, fine outfitters for the discerning magician!" he was shouting, his voice barely carrying over the hubbub. "Robes! Pointy hats! Beard grooming supplies! Yes, you sir, how can OH GOD HURRAAARRGLAB."
I waited patiently for him to finish decorating the pavement with his stomach contents. "Sorry," he said, bent double and gulping. Impressively, he immediately continued his sales pitch from that position. "Looking for a new robe?"
"Yes, this one's starting to whiff a bit."
"Yes, I ... gathered that, sir." He took a few deep, groaning breaths into a star-patterned hanky and seemed to gather himself.
"What sort of price range were you OH GOD YOUR EYES HURRAAARRGLAB."
I tapped my now bile-sodden foot. "Shall I come back later? — Yahtzee Croshaw

I feel a pull on my arm, stopping me. Kyan slowly moves to stand in front of me. His eyes look deep into mine as if he's looking into my soul, burning himself into it, and ensuring that it will never forget him. "I love you, Calla." He swallows. "I have for a while now. So fucking much. — Victoria Ashley

I closed my eyes and took more of those deep breaths Dad was so fond of, thinking that it was no wonder Prodigium were always getting their asses handed to them by humans. I mean, every time I had to do an intense spell, there was all this focusing, and relaxing, and picturing, and breathing...It wasn't exactly the most effective battle strategy against something like The Eye.
I should've known better than to think about The Eye,though. As soon as the name popped into my head, my control shattered.
And so did the terra-cotta pot.
Black soil rained down on my feet, and the purple flower drooped even further. I could have sworn it actually bobbed accusingly at me.
"Ugh," I groaned, as Cal quickly scooped the jagged pot out of my hands. "Sorry,but I warned you I was destructo-girl. — Rachel Hawkins

Are you happy?" He doesn't answer me for a long minute. I finally lean back and look up into his deep green eyes. "Are you?"
"I will be, when I get your sexy ass into the house where I can spend the rest of the twenty hours we have left to ourselves lost in you." He stands, easily carrying me toward the house. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."
"I'm not a screamer." And it didn't escape me that he didn't answer my question.
"You're about to be. — Kristen Proby

You saved me from the slowest, most terrible death I could ever envision. You risked your life, your freedom to protect my family. As far as I am concerned, that makes you family." Rosie's mouth set into a line and her hazel eyes were uncomfortably kind, full of a deep understanding that wrapped around me like a physical presence. "Family," she continued. "Family don't give up on family just because things get dangerous. Azalea risked her life for you, same as you'd risk your life for her. Don't belittle that choice by pretending you could make it for her. You don't have that right. — Annie Bellet

Any other questions?"
"Just one," I say. "What color are your eyes?" I want to know what he thinks, how he sees himself - the real Ky - when he dares to look.
"Blue," he says sounding surprised, "they've always been blue."
"Not to me."
"What do they look like to you?" he says puzzled, amused. Not looking at my mouth anymore, looking into my eyes.
"Lots of colors," I say. "At first I thought they were brown. Once I thought they were green ... "
"What are they now?" he asks. He widens his eyes a little, leans closer, lets me look as long and deep as I want.
"Well?"
"Everything," I tell him, "They're everything. — Ally Condie

When we unloaded the last box Vincent surprised me by taking my hand and placing a kiss on my knuckles. His deep chocolate eyes gazed into mine as he spoke with an air of knowing wisdom, "If I ever cheated on my wife I think she'd have cut my balls off. If you don't want to castrate this guy after what he's done then he's not the one for you." he nodded as though affirming the truth of his words. — Penny Reid

You know that eye-to-eye recognition, when two people look deeply into each other's pupils, and burrow to the soul? It usually comes before love. I mean the clear, deep, milk-eyed recognition expressed by the poet Donne. Their eyebeams twisted and did thread their eyes upon a double string. My father recognized that the Professor was a Troll, and the Professor recognized my father's recognition. Both of them knew that the Professor had eaten his wife. - The Troll — T.H. White

The good psychic would pick up the phone before it rang. Of course it is possible there was noone on the other line. Once she said "God Bless you" I said, "I didn't sneeze" She looked deep into my eyes and said, "You will, eventually." And damn it if she wasn't right. Two days later I sneezed. — Ellen DeGeneres

Then I looked right at Mama, for the first time in what seemed like forever, and she wasn't looking at me, but into me. She was pulling me to her with her eyes, like she used to do. All of a sudden I could see the light that was Mama's shining out of her eyes. I couldn't help smiling at it.
'Be careful,' my heart warned me.
But I was having a hard time remembering that there as anything to be careful about. Because if I just looked at Mama's eyes ... I could tell that the part of her I thought had gone away forever was still there and glowing, only from deep down inside her. — Katherine Hannigan

The love of my life, Francesca Taymon, stood in front of me, staring into my would with her deep brown eyes. — Felicia Tatum

My eyes shifted to the trickling river. Come spring, it would be ten times as wide and just as deep. On and on it went, rushing toward the distant horizon. Like time. Like life. Sometimes gently falling from one pool into the other, other times fast and cascading, and still other times narrowing into a funnel, a torrent of knots and waves. — Lisa Tawn Bergren

If I want my marriage to survive this honeymoon road trip I know I have to stop offering my special helpful tips for driving in foreign lands. So now, whenever we are heading into a traffic situation where I think my opinion could be particularly useful, I just take a deep breath and close my eyes. I'm learning to be a good wife. — Vivian Swift

She stood a moment before my eyes, clearly and painfully, loved and deeply woven into my destiny; then fell away again in a deep oblivion, at a half regretted distance. — Hermann Hesse

As she trembled and laughed and blotted her eyes with her gloved fingers, Nick took her into his arms and tried to soothe her. "Easy ... Easy ... ," he whispered, while his hands moved gently over her shoulders and back. "Take a deep breath. Hush, everything's all right." The warm brand of his mouth pressed against her forehead, her wet lashes, her cheeks. "You're safe, Lottie. You're mine, my wife, and I'll take care of you. You're safe. — Lisa Kleypas

Don't leave me," he whispered, his words making me shiver.
I covered his hands, which held my face, with mine and stared up into eyes that pleaded with to me to stay. "You scare me," I told him honestly.
He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine. He took deep, raspy breaths. "I scare myself," he said. — A Meredith Walters

He was watching me, his eyes as deep as earth.
"Will you come with me?" he asked.
The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes. — Madeline Miller

He takes my face with two hands. His eyes drink in every part, and then a slight pause, hesitation perhaps. For a moment, he turns away and then with the same intensity as when he closed the distance between us, he pulls me against him and kisses me. He kisses me firmly with his soft and hungry mouth. He tastes salty and sweet, and I fall deep into a blinding torrent of wonder. — Cindy Martinusen Coloma

I bent my head and breathed the fresh new scent of her. I looked into her deep blue eyes and saw reflected there the dawn of my own new life. This little girl seemed to me, at that moment, answer enough to all my questions. To have saved this small, singular one - this alone seemed reason enough that I lived. I knew then that this was how I was meant to go on: away from death and toward life, from birth to birth, from seed to blossom, living my life amongst wonders. — Geraldine Brooks

Don't worry, baby girl," she'd whispered. "It's all going to get better now." She raised her hand, and that's when I'd seen the knife. By then it was too late. I pitched forward off the couch when she ripped the knife out of me. Pain lanced through my chest, and I screamed. She brought the knife down again and again, her eyes calm and peaceful the whole time. She kissed my cheek and told me to go to sleep. Raising the knife once more, she pushed it deep into her own throat before pulling it out. She collapsed beside me, her face inches from mine. — Apryl Baker

I have been seeing dragons again.
Last night, hunched on a beaver dam,
one held a body like a badly held cocktail;
his tail, keeping the beat of a waltz,
sent a morse of ripples to my canoe.
They are not richly bright
but muted like dawns
or the vague sheen on a fly's wing.
Their old flesh drags in folds
as they drop into grey pools,
strain behind a tree.
Finally the others saw one today, trapped,
tangled in our badminton net.
The minute eyes shuddered deep in the creased face
while his throat, strangely fierce, stretched
to release an extinct burning inside:
pathetic loud whispers as four of us
and the excited spaniel surrounded him. — Michael Ondaatje

Why did you break up?"
"Because she didn't like what I became after I left the army."
"And what was that?"
He stares deep into my eyes. A sudden coolness overtakes the warmth. It sends an unexpected chill running through me. "Uncaring. Hard. Cold," he answers dryly.
I swallow down. "And what were you before?"
"Uncaring ... hard ... cold." He grins, his warmth instantly returning. — Samantha Towle

He stands watching me, motionless in those drawstring pants, his legs braced in a fighting stance, his eyes bursting with need. His broad shoulders jerk with his breaths, and he curls his fingers into fists at his sides. The deep roughness of his voice scrapes my flesh. Come here then. — Katy Evans

For a while I didn't want to look at the men and their hawks any more and my eyes slipped to the white panels of cut light in the branches behind them. Then I walked to the hedge where the hawk had made her kill. Peered inside. Deep in the muddled darkness six copper pheasant feathers glowed in a cradle of blackthorn. Reaching through the thorns I picked them free, one by one, tucked the hand that held them into my pocket, and cupped the feathers in my closed fist as if I were holding a moment tight inside itself. It was death I had seen. — Helen Macdonald

God," he choked out. "This can't happen."
"Oh, yes it can." Breathless, she worked the buttons of his trouser falls. "It will. It must." Having freed the closures of his trousers and smallclothes, she snaked her hand through the opening and brazenly took him in hand. Of course, now that she had him in hand, she wasn't quite sure what to do with him. She tentatively skimmed one fingertip over the smooth, rounded crown of his erection. In return, he pressed a single finger into her aching core.
"Cecily." He shut his eyes and grit his teeth. "If I don't stop this now ... "
"You never will?" She pressed her lips to his earlobe. "That's my fondest hope. You say you're done with fighting, Luke? Then stop fighting this."
He sighed deep in his chest, and she felt all the tension coiled in those powerful muscles release. "Very well," he said quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Very well. To you, I gratefully surrender. — Tessa Dare

So I pulled a gun on him and demanded his wallet."
The soda in my mouth becomes the soda in my nose. "You had a gun?" I cough and sputter into my napkin.
Mom's eyes go round and she pressed her finger to her lips, mouthing, "Shhh!"
"Where did you get a gun?" I hiss.
"Oliver lent it to me. He was always looking out for me. Told me to shoot first and run. He said the asking-questions-later part was for the police." She grins at my expression. "Does that earn me cool points?"
I swirl a fry in the mound of ketchup on my plate. "You want cool points for pulling a gun on my father?" I say it with all the appropriate disdain and condescension it deserves, but deep down, we both know she gets mega cool points for it.
"Psh." She waves her hand. "I didn't even know whether or not it would fire. And anyway, he didn't hand me his wallet. He propositioned me instead."
"Okay. Ew."
"Not like that, you brat. — Anna Banks

But now, I don't feel silly. I just feel a rush of something up through my heart, wide and deep as a river of light, and it rushes over the banks, and up through the throat and into the mouth and out my eyes, a great big surge of something that for so long had no name, a fugitive animal in a wood, and I know the name of it now, and what it is, is love. — Harrison Scott Key

I will go," he said. "I will go to Troy."
The rosy gleam of his lip, the fevered green of his eyes. There was not a line anywhere on his face, nothing creased or graying; all crisp. He was spring, golden and bright. Envious death would drink his blood, and grow young again.
He was watching me, his eyes as deep as earth.
"Will you come with me?" he asked.
The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. "Yes," I whipsered. "Yes."
Relief broke in his face, and he reached for me. I let him hold me, let him press us length to length so close that nothing might fit between us.
Tears came, and fell. Above us, the constellations spun and the moon paced her weary course. We lay stricken and sleepless as the hours passed. — Madeline Miller

He shook his head, cupped each side of my face, and looked into my eyes. "Did you sleep with him?"

Hot tears filled my eyes as I shook my head no. He slammed his lips against mine, and his tongue entered my mouth without hesitation. Unable to control myself, I gripped his shirt in my fists, and pulled him to me. He hummed in his amazing, deep voice, and gripped me so tight that it was difficult to breathe. — Jamie McGuire

Adam stares at me so long I begin to blush. He tips my chin up so I meet his eyes. Blue blue blue boring into me. His voice is deep, steady. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh."
He's so excruciatingly correct I don't know how to respond except with the truth. My smile is tucked into a straight line. "Laughter comes from living." I shrug, try to sound indifferent. "I've never really been alive before. — Tahereh Mafi

Do you have a boyfriend?"
That was a little too personal, wasn't it?
"I.." I was caught off guard.
"Is that a yes, or a no?" He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he stared deeply into my eyes.
If I looked deep enough, I thought, maybe I could find what I was looking for.
"No," I whispered.
He put a hand to his ear. "What was that? I didn't quite hear you?" I had the feeling he had heard it loud and clear, but was messing with me.
"No," I said with one quick look at him and then I lowered my eyes toward the table.
He smiled at my response. "Good," he replied.
Was I flirting? Was he?
I looked back up to try to understand his answer. "And do you, Mr Kaden?"
"Do I what?" He was definitely playing with me now. "Do I have a boyfriend? No. I don't."
I laughed and couldn't help but smile in the process. — Jennifer Whitfield

I took a step forward, rage swirling inside me.
"You broke into Mount Weather?" Hunter choked out a laugh. "Are you insane?"
"Shut up," I said, keeping my eyes on Luc.
Hunter made a deep noise. "Our little mutual white flag of friendship is going to come to a halt if you tell me to shut up again."
I spared him a brief glance. "Shut. Up."
Dark shadows drifted over the Arum's shoulder, and I faced him fully. "What?" I said, throwing my hands up in a universal come get some. "I have a lot of pent-up violence I'd love to take out on someone."
"Guys." Luc sighed, sliding off the bar. "Seriously? Can't you two bro-mance it out? — Jennifer L. Armentrout

This is what nibbling your ear sounds like." Blake created a soundtrack for his teeth.
"This is what looking into your eyes sounds like." The notes were deep and beckoning.
"This is what my mind hears when my tongue is in your mouth." The kiss sounded steamy and delicate. The rhythm was her heartbeat as he sampled her mouth.
"But when you smile. When you smile it's ... "
Blake scooted the keyboard around behind her. He needed both hands.
She put her hands on his face and smiled in amazement as the music exploded. She couldn't imagine how her simple facial gesture could inspire such a majestic sound.
He smiled back. "One thousand nine hundred and ten."
"So many? Really?"
"Yes, really. And it's not nearly enough. I want to lose count, Livia. Make me lose count." His hands left the beautiful music and grabbed handfuls of her hair. — Debra Anastasia

I wasn't sure if i was embarrassed or just irritated. Cursing, I held the packet to my chest and stomped off. I turned around to send him one last seething glare and ran smack dab into a tree. Or at least it felt like a tree. But trees weren't warm. And they didn't have 1, 2, 3, 4, 6 Good Lord, 8? Eight pack? And dear God i was counting. I had touched each muscle. And great my hand was firmly places against the guys stomach.
I jerked my hand back and closed my eyes.
"Were tyou just counting my abs?" His voice sounded amused. It also sounded like a movie star voice, the type that makes you want to jump into the TV screen. It was deep, strong and had a slight accent I couldn't place. British? Scottish? — Rachel Van Dyken

My coffee was steaming, and I hunched over it while I watched the demon. His long fingers were interlaced about the white soup-bowl mug as if relishing its warmth, and though I couldn't tell for sure because of the sunglasses, I think his eyes closed as he took the first sip. A look of bliss so deep it couldn't have been faked slipped over him, easing his features and turning him into a vision of relaxed pleasure. — Kim Harrison

I like Saturdays. They are my best thinking days. It is my day to try to find that one special thought that turns into an idea that I remember forever and becomes a part of who I am, like a freckle or a finger or an ear. Even before I open my eyes I take a deep breath and try to picture something, anything, as if my brain were a keyhole where I can spy on my future. So each Saturday morning I try to find a little piece of a thought, and then I keep turning it over in my mind until it turns into a complete idea and at the end of the day when I'm lying in bed I put the whole thought into a little room in my head so I can remember it. — Jack Gantos

As she appears in the room, her face is still covered by the hood of her coat, but I can see the outline of her chin, and a faint glow that frightens me. She slowly pulls back the hood and her eyes bore into me. Eyes red with flame, it is though they are scanning my soul, deep within me."

From 'She Blames Me' (Banfield Tales) — Michael Braccia

Gawk? What is gawk?" he asked.
"You tell me. You're the one that does it." I said...
"My definition of gawking would be..." He paused as if to hold back what he was going to say. But he couldn't any longer. "...when you look at her, your heart starts slamming uncontrollably in your chest. So much that it scares you. And every other noise that surrounds you slowly fades away into absolute silence. You only hear the sounds she makes. And when she looks back at you, when her eyes meet yours, it's as if she is looking deep inside your soul. And she can see all of the hatred you're consumed in. Her eyes quench the thirst of your soul, gently soothing your damaged heart in the most alluring way... a way you could only dream of. — E.M. Jade

The gifts of microscopes to our understanding of cells and organisms is so profound that one has to ask: What are the gifts of the microscopist? Here is my opinion. The gift of the great microscopist is the ability to Think with the eyes and see with the brain. Deep revelations into the nature of living things continue to travel on beams of light. — Daniel Mazia

Wait, so you do love me?" I asked, hope welling in my heart.
She growled and pounded her fist into a locker, leaving a fist-shaped dent. "Stop it, Justin. Stop it!"
I grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me and tell me you don't love me," I said. "Do it and I'll never bother you again."
"I don't love you," she mumbled.
"Look at me when you say it!"
She turned to me, her eyes hard but dull and faded. "I don't love you."
I let her go. My heart turned to lead, the heavy lump sagging in my chest. "Well, if there are agents out there looking to kill me, I guess it would be a mercy."
I turned to leave. Her hand gripped my shoulder.
"Please listen to me, Justin."
I pushed her hand away but didn't turn to face her. I couldn't let her see the tears welling in my eyes. "Why? What does it matter?"
"It just does. I - I don't want to see you hurt."
I took a deep shuddering breath. "You're not doing a very good job of it." I walked away and left her standing there. — John Corwin

At the Sound of the Gunshot,
Leave A Message

That's what my friend spoke
into his grim machine the winter he first went mad
as we both did in our thirties with still
no hope of revenue, gravely inking
our poems on pages held fast by gyres
the color of lead.

Godless, our minds
did monster us, left us bobbing as in a swamp
until we sank. His eyes were burn holes
in a swollen face. His breath was a venom
he drank deep of. He called his own tongue
a scar, this poet

who can crowbar open
the most sealed heart, make ash flower,
and the cocked shotgun's double-zero mouths
(whose pellets had exploded star holes into plaster and porcelain
and not a few locked doors) never touched
my friend's throat. Praise

Him, whose earth is green.

(for Franz Wright) — Mary Karr

Is starting to happen between the two teenagers: It gave me a queer feeling each time I looked into his deep blue eyes, and he sat there with that mysterious laugh playing round his lips ... and with my whole heart I almost beseeched him: oh, tell me, what is going on inside you, oh, can't you look beyond this ridiculous chatter? — Francine Prose

He makes love to me then, like only Naz can, alternating between slow and deep and rough and hard, sending me into a tailspin. It's a breath-catching, skin-slapping, soul-capturing kind of love. The man owns me. He consumes me. Every part of me was made for every part of him. It's the kind of love I can't imagine ever living without. It's raw, and real, and it's ours.
It's ours.
It goes on forever.
Life flashes before my eyes.
We're old and gray and happy. We're happy.
Nothing is going to get in our way now. — J.M. Darhower

Somewhere deep in my mind I knew that looking into someone's eyes shouldn't cause me to come undone like this, but my body wasn't listening to the tiny voice in my mind.

~The Forgotten Ones — Laura Howard

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together- a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred spirits could enter. It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my darkest night. — Stephenie Meyer

I don't know what it is that comes over me, but suddenly I'm crossing to his side of the table and sitting down in his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. His lips are soft against mine, and when I part them he tenderly obliges, tasting me delicately. His fingers prod at my back, never going further than the small indent at the base of the spine, and it's all very lovely and nice.
"I think I could get used to you," I say, looking down into his beautiful brown eyes, deep like the color of autumn.
(From "Undone, The Romance of Nick and Layla [Part 5"]). — Crystal Cierlak

I'd hate to see the look on my face when that mask came down and I saw the face behind it. Thinner than I remember. Paler. The eyes sunk deep into their sockets, kind of glazed over, like he's sick or hurt, but I recognize it, I know whose face was hidden behind that mask. I just can't process it.
Here, in this place. A thousand years later and a million miles from the halls of George Barnard High School. Here, in the belly of the beast at the bottom of the world, standing right in front of me.
Benjamin Thomas Parish.
And Cassiopeia Marie Sullivan, having a full-bore out-of-body experience, seeing herself seeing him. The last time she saw him was in their high school gymnasium after the lights went out, and then only the back of his head, and the only times that she's seen him since happened in her mind, the rational part of which always knew Ben Parish was dead like everyone else. — Rick Yancey

I pulled back and stared up into his eyes. "You're gettin' very deep on me."
Alec's hands gripped my behind. "I'll be getting very deep in you if you keep looking at me like that — L.A. Casey

That's it. I had enough of your abuse," Tristan said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me back down on the bed. I screamed as he tackled me. We wrestled back and forth, laughing. I found his tickle spot giving me the advantage, but he was fast and kept getting the upper hand. He had me pinned with my arms above my head and his body pressing down on mine. I stopped resisting, but he didn't let go. He was panting and smiling over his victory. He stared deep into my eyes making my heart race. — Jessica Miller

As a teenager I clearly remember mornings when I was getting ready for school when something would -just still me- and
I would lean forward and peer very intensely into the eyes of the girl in that mirror.
who is that? I didn't know . I looked into those eyes as if they had the answer to who I am
or who I could be.
So I would search the depths of those green and blue flecked eyes.
Calmly searching the eyes of this stranger as if I thought that if I looked deep enough, or long enough, I would find the answer to why I was even here.
I didn't know what I know now.
That I could only find out my identity,
who I was
when I stopped looking into my own eyes
and instead searched in the eyes of Jesus. Only He could REALLY tell me who I am. Who I can be. Who I will be ... — Laura A. Diaz

I have hair that drifts like seaweed when I swim. I have eyes that shine like rock pools. My ears are like scallop shells. The ripples on my skin are like the ripples on the sand when the tide has turned back again. At night I gleam and glow like sea beneath the stars and moon. Thoughts dart and dance inside like little minnows in the shallows. They race and flash like mackerel farther out. My wonderings roll in the deep like sails. Dreams dive each night into the dark like dolphins do and break out happy and free into the morning light. These are the things I know about myself and that I see when I look in the rock pools at myself. — David Almond