Don't Look Me In The Eye Quotes & Sayings

Everything that's happening in our world is a function of what is going on inside of people. We are violent in our minds. We are violent with one another. We walk past one another in the street and don't even look nor make eye contact - don't speak. We can be outraged about the missiles and the planes. I'm more outraged that somebody will walk past me in the street and not look me in the face and say good morning. — Iyanla Vanzant

The president didn't ask me any questions. But I'm glad he didn't, because I was so shocked watching him that I don't think I could have made a sesible reply.' He turned to look Byrnes squarely in the eye. 'We've been talking to a dying man. — Andrei Cherny

I'm sure." I smiled and took a sip of coffee. "I don't want to be stranded on the side of the road. Will that old thing even make it that far?" He looked toward his truck. "That old thing hasn't let me down yet." "So how long will it take to get there?" "'bout six, six and a half hours. That should give me time to get settled into my motel room and practice a little before I go to the studio in the morning." I nodded. "Have you had breakfast?" "I ate at Mrs. Wrigley's when I dropped Amy off." "How about a cup of coffee?" I said. "No thanks. It'll just make me have to stop and pee." I laughed. I stood and stepped to him. "Call me when you get there. Okay?" "I'll call. I promise." He turned to look down at Bo, who sat in the yard looking up at us, stick in mouth, waiting. "I asked Mike to keep an eye on you while I'm gone," he said. "The — Heather Meyer

Let's get to the point, Amelia." His hands closed over her shoulders. "Are you going to marry me?"
"I can't," she said weakly. "I just can't. We don't suit. It's obvious we're not at all alike. You're impetuous. You make life-altering decisions in the blink of an eye. Whereas I choose one course and I don't stray from it."
"You strayed last night. And look how well it turned out." He grinned at her expression. "I'm not impetuous, love. It's just that I know when something is too important to be decided according to logic."
"And marriage is one of those things?"
"Of course." Cam settled a hand high on her chest, over the wild pounding of her heart. "You have to decide it in here. — Lisa Kleypas

I look at ordinary people in their suits, them with no scars, and I'm different. I don't fit with them. I'm where everybody's got scar tissue on their eyes and got noses like saddles. I go to conventions of old fighters like me and I see the scar tissue and all them flat noses and it's beautiful ... They talk like me, like they got rocks in their throats. Beautiful! — Willie Pastrano

He's taken a shower, washed me off his skin. He looks better for it, but he won't look me in the eye when he asks if I'd like a coffee. This isn't what I wanted: none of this is right. I don't want to do this. I don't want to lose control again. — Paula Hawkins

But I don't want to go back. Not yet.
Just because.
Because every once in a while, somebody brings me my lunch tray and my meds and he has a black eye or his forehead is swollen with stitches, and he says:
"We miss you Mr. Durden."
Or somebody with a broken nose pushes a mop past me and whispers:
"Everything's going according to the plan.
Whispers
"We're going to break up civilization so we can make something better out of the world."
Whispers
"We look forward to getting you back. — Chuck Palahniuk

It must be because you're so approachable,' I say flatly. 'You know. Like a bed of nails.'
He stares at me, and I don't look away. He isn't a dog but the same rules apply. Looking away is submissive. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. It's my choice.
Heat rushes into my cheeks. What will happen when this tension breaks?
But he just says, 'Careful, Tris. — Veronica Roth

Which one was it? He'll pay for it with his life, I swear to you."
"Settle down, Gray. And for God's sake, don't go punching yourself in the eye just to even the score."
Gray shot him a look. "Not amusing, Joss."
"Oh yes, it is. Give me credit for a joke when I make one. It's nothing, Gray. I've had worse. You've given me worse. And it's no more than a man can expect, I suppose, when he's an alleged pirate."
"Piracy charges." Gray cracked his neck. "What a joke." This was the voyage he'd finally gone respectable, and what had it gotten him? Jilted and jailed. No good deed went unpunished. — Tessa Dare

His voice dropped to a low murmur, and he leaned down so that he was almost whispering in her ear. "You see, there's this woman."
She wasn't going to look at him. She wasn't.
"Normally, one might say that there was a beautiful woman - but I don't think she qualifies as a classical beauty. Still, I find that when she's around, I'd rather look at her than anyone else."
He set two fingers against her cheek, and Minnie sucked in a breath. She was not going to look at him. He'd see the longing in her eyes, and then ...
"There's something about her that draws my eye. Something that defies words. Maybe it's her hair, but I tried to tell her that, and she told me I was being ridiculous. I suppose I was. Maybe it's her lips. Maybe it's her eyes, although she so rarely looks at me. — Courtney Milan

People don't tend to employ me. I'm the wrong personality type. Or rather, people do tend to employ me for a short time and then they sack me. A film broker once told me, as she terminated my contract, that I have a misleading sort of face.
"You're pretty", she complained. "Your features are symmetrical and there was an article in Grazia that says human beings are programmed to find those with symmetrical features more pleasing to they eye. So this isn't my fault, I was simply responding to a biological imperative. You've even teeth, so when you smile, you look ... sweet, I suppose. But you're not, are you?"
"I hope not," I said.
"You see, there you go again. You're a smart-arse and you've no ability to filter your thoughts
"
"And my thoughts are often abrasive."
"Exactly."
"I'll just get my brushes and sponges and leave."
"If you would. — Marian Keyes

Mine was something along the lines of 'This is who I am, and this is the level at which I'm going to present myself, I feel fine, and if you don't like it then you're more than welcome to look away, thank you very much.' I decided, quite simply, not to care very much at all. As long as my rear-end and stomach were hidden from the public gaze, then I considered any outfit a roaring success.
People are either going to like the look of me, or they're not. And apart from remaining vaguely clean and healthy, there's not very much I can do to control that. Is an eye-lash tint, a facial and the right handbag really going to make all that much difference?
With this decision, I think I've spared myself a lot of misery. You may look at me and see a slightly frayed, wool-clad woman with an inexplicably hefty rucksack, but I look in the mirror and simply give thanks for all I've opted out of. — Miranda Hart

I don't like the thoughts running through your head. I plan on staying here until you look me in the eye and tell me you 're mine. — Katie McGarry

He stares at me, and I don't look away. He isn't a dog, but the same rules apply. Looking away is submissive. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. It's my choice. — Veronica Roth

This is stupid. Very, very stupid. I don't even have a tear-stained dog to wave bye to me. But I told everyone I was gonna do this, so I gotta do it... or I will be living a life of feminist-sounding somedays. And I will be more responsible, powerful, and amazing afterward. I will be able to do anything and not self-consciously stare at elevator numbers when the doors close.
I will look the other person in right the eye and nod hello. — Erika Lopez

She said, "Look me right in the eye, and tell me you don't love me, and I'll go."
He stared at her. "Miss, I do not love you."
"Don't give me that rot! I'm coming with you, and that's final!"
"Daphne, you just said that if I said ... "
"That doesn't count! I said look me right in the eye! You were staring at my nose! — John C. Wright

Mr. Nak taught me a trick. He told me to think of fear as a person who's going to be around whether he's invited or not. He said, Think of him like a big ol' bully pain-in-the-butt cousin you cain't get rid of, an' the only way to get your binniss done is to allow him to tag along, because he's goin' to anyway. Then don't take your eye off him a minute, so he don't get the chance to make you look like a horse's patoot. — Chris Crutcher

In a Republican primary every candidate is going to come in front of you and say I'm the most conservative guy that ever lived. Goshdarnit, whodidily, I'm conservative. You know what, talk is cheap. The word tells us you shall know them by their fruits ... Look every candidate in the eye and say 'Don't talk, show me.' — Ted Cruz

I don't know why you won't even look me in the eye. I don't understand anything you're doing or saying, and it's killing me, because I already don't undestand a single thing about me or Michael or Becky or my brother or anything on this shitty planet. — Alice Oseman

Your friend Mikey knew what my touch could do, but he didn't tell me. He turned me into a murderer. Worse than a murderer."
"I think," said Nick, "they call that manslaughter or wrongful death, don't they? I mean, when it's an accident or out of ignorance, or something."
Clarence turned to Nick, studying him with his Everlost eye. "You're a lot smarter than you were back in the cage," Clarence said. "You look better too. Back then you were a thing, now you're almost a person."
"Thanks . . . but 'almost' is still 'almost.'"
"Yeah, well, we're all almost something. — Neal Shusterman

I always get muscle aches in my eyes after a few hours of reading," she said. "Doesn't matter what. The closeness does it. All these words in your face, one at a time and filling your periphery. I love reading, but there's a limit.
"There are times," she went on, "when I don't leave my apartment for days. I read for hours without a break and feel like all I want to do is stand in a field and look as far as I can in any direction. I want a view, but I don't want to see anything. I just want something like an eye stretch."
"Why not just shut your eyes?" I asked. "What's the difference?"
"Closing my eyes is too much like nearness, like reading. It's black and it's in your face, sort of crowding you. Gazing down a prairie road stretches me and the muscles in my eyes. I don't necessarily want to see anything. Just look out. — Ryan Knighton

She is here amongst us, but she is not alone," one of the pixie dust angels told the queen of the woods.
"And?" the queen demanded.
"She is with some boy. Both look strange, if you ask me."
"Strange, how?" the queen asked.
"Strange. You know they don't look as we do."
"How do they look?" The queen turned and looked at the pixie angel with her purple eye that sat in the middle of her forehead.
"I don't know. They have things like the little people in Vanduesa."
"What things might you be referring to?" the queen's voice rose impatiently.
"You know those things that the little people get around with."
The queen laughed, revealing yellowing teeth. "Oh, the things the little people in Vanduesa refer to as legs."
"That's it." The pixie angel did an excited flip, and then nodded her head. — Lynette Mather

Every now and then, we change our minds. It's our prerogative. The big secret is" - I leaned in conspiratorially - "sometimes, even we don't know why. There are times after we pick a fight where we're as confused as you are. But there's no way we're admitting it." I shrugged a shoulder, "That's why we have boobs."
Jake's eyebrows shot up.
"See, after we've acted crazy, and the guy's wondering what he's doing with us, we use them to mesmerize him, so he forgets that we're crazy." I shot Jake my most seductive smile and leaned the assets in question against his arm. "And by the way, if you look at my cleavage right now, even though I'm the one talking about it, I'll accuse you of not caring about what I saw and of just treating me like an object."
Jake swallowed hard, keeping eye contact with me, though I could tell he was fighting his impulse to look down. A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes. "And treating you like an object would be bad? — Cindi Madsen

if you don't shut your mouth and work with us, then by the Lord Jesus, when we roll out of here in those buses I will personally tie you to the front grill, cover you with A1 sauce, and use you for bait. Look me in the eye and ask me if I'm joking. — Jonathan Maberry

Most eyes have more than one color, but usually they're related. Blue eyes may have two shades of blue, or blue and gray, or blue and green, or even a fleck or two of brown. Most people don't notice that. When I first went to get my state ID card, the form asked for eye color. I tried to write in all the colors in my own eyes, but the space wasnt big enough. They told me to put 'brown'. I put 'brown', but that is not the only color in my eyes. It is just the color that people see because they do not really look atr other people's eyes. — Elizabeth Moon

I ate the roll, and forced down some more sparkling wine. When your eyes closed against the sun again, and I had nothing else to look at I glanced quickly at your chest, curious, really. I'd only seen chests like that in magazines. I wondered if that's how you'd got all your money ... modeling. I looked down at my stomach. I grabbed at it, seeing how much fat I could lift up in a roll.
"Don't worry," you said, one eye open again like a crocodile, watching me. "You're beautiful." You tipped your head back again "Beautiful," you murmured. "Perfect."
"You wouldn't know. You're built like some sort of supermodel." I bit my lip, wishing I hadn't complimented you like that. "Or a stripper," I added. "Prostitute."
"I wouldn't want you to think I'm repulsive," you said, half smiling.
"Too late."
You opened your other eye to squint at me. "Will you ever give me a break? — Lucy Christopher

Let me say right here, if I haven't made it clear, that I have seen as many pale, naked old-man parts in the last twenty-four hours to bruise my delicate psyche for a lifetime, so don't be surprised if you someday find me wandering the moors at midnight, a crazed look in my eye, babbling about albino Tater Tots nesting in Brillo pads and being pursued by sagging man ass, because that shit can happen when you've been traumatized. — Christopher Moore

I don't know what position you're talking about, sir. The Gnomon Society has never questioned the rotundity of the earth. Mr. Jimmerson is himself a skilled topographer."
"Excuse me, Mr. Popper, but I have it right here in Mr. Jimmerson's own words on page twenty-nine of 101 Gnomon Facts."
"No, sir. Excuse me but you don't. Please look again. Read that passage carefully and you'll see what we actually say is that the earth looks flat. We still say that. It's so flat around Brownsville as to be striking to the eye."
"But isn't that just a weasel way of saying that you really believe if to be flat?"
"Not at all. What we're saying is that the curvature of the earth is so gentle, relative to our human scale of things, that we need not bother or take it into account when going for a stroll, say, or laying out our gardens. — Charles Portis

I felt the exact same way.But if it helps,you look much cuter freaking out than I ever did."
I peeked out through my hands."But what if I don't get in?"
He wrapped his arms around me. "No more worrying about it.You'll get in."
"Good.Someone needs to keep an eye on you and that dirty little dyrad of a lab assistant."
He laughed,squeezing me until I couldn't breathe. "Why would I ever want a lusty tree nymph when I could have a hyperventilating Evie? — Kiersten White

You want to beat Peter?" she asked "No," he answered "Beat the buggers. Then come home and see who notices Peter Wiggen anymore. Look him in the eye when all the world loves and reveres you. That'll be defeat in his eyes, Ender, thats how you win" "You don't understand" he said "Yes i do" "No you don't. I don't want to beat Peter" "Then what do you want?" "I want him to love me — Orson Scott Card

Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."
Wolves ready to pounce - that's what they were, just like their friend. I was all to aware of my diction, of the very breath I took as I said, "I'd prefer not to wear that dress"
"And why not?" Lucien crooned.
It was Tamlin who answered for me. "Because killing us is easier in pants. — Sarah J. Maas

I like names. I collect them: names, origins, meanings. They're an easy thing to collect. They don't cost anything and they don't really take up any space. I like to look at them and pretend that they mean something; and maybe they don't, but the pretending is nice. I keep most of them on the walls of my bedroom at home - home where I used to live. I keep the ones that echo. Good names with significance. Not the crap everyone seems to be using these days. I like foreign names, too; the unusual ones that you rarely see. If I ever had a baby I'd pick one of those, but babies aren't really something I see in my future, even the far off one.
I fold up the papers to put them away, glancing one more time. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch one of the Sarahs again, and I smile. It reminds me of the one amusing part of my day. — Katja Millay

I don't trust you to go alone," Charlotte said. "You'll end up getting killed in a duel with Braddock."
"If I do, it won't happen before dawn at the least. There are still several hours during which you will have to obey me."
"What happens to me if you're killed?" Charlotte asked. "Will I be free to do as I wish then?"
"Remove that bloodthirsty look from your eye, baggage. If anything happens to me, you will be passed along with the furniture and the paintings to the next Earl of Denbigh, whoever he may be."
Charlotte pursed her lips. "I think I would prefer to deal with you. At least we have reached a sort of understanding. So, if you please, I would rather you did not let the duke kill you."
"I'll do my best to avoid it," he assured her. — Joan Johnston

Layney Logan, there are two things in this world you don't need to question. One is gravity." He tilted my chin to force me to look him in the eye. The sudden intimacy shocked me. "The other is Layney Logan. — Gwen Hayes

The door opens. I don't lift my head or open my eyes.
"Stiff." It's Peter. Of course.
"Yes." When I let my hand fall from my face, a lock of hair falls with it. I look at it from the corner of my eye. My hair has never been this greasy before.
Peter sets a bottle of water next to the bed, and a sandwich. The thought of eating it nauseates me.
"You brain-dead?" he asks.
"Don't think so."
"Don't be so sure."
"Ha-ha," I say. "How long have I been asleep?"
"About a day. I'm supposed to escort you to the showers."
"If you say something about how badly I need one," I say tiredly, "I will poke you in the eye. — Veronica Roth

You really want to go out to dinner?" Gabriel shot Rase a skeptical look out of the corner of his eye.
"As opposed to what?"
"Getting on your knees and begging me to beat you." There was no inflection in Gabriel's voice, no heat, and no emotion at all. He wasn't even looking at Rase.
... "I don't want one more than the other," he answered, fully aware that he was being challenged. "They're not interchangeable. I want them both."
Rase took a breath to calm the pounding in his chest and continued, even though Gabriel wouldn't look at him. "I want to go out to dinner with you, anywhere you want, on a date. And then I want to go back to your place or my place and I want you to beat me until I bleed. — Anah Crow

She touches me The jungle lights up with incinerating fire Looks like a flaming serpent I look into her eyes I see a movie flickering Car crashes People kicking corpses Men ripping their tracheas out and shaking them at the sky I think to myself: I don't want to survive this one I want to burn up in the wreckage Cooking flesh in the jungle — Henry Rollins

Don't say 'sorry' like that neither, like a dog that get tell off for messin' on the kitchen floor. Hold your head up. Look the world in the eye. You hear me? — Neil Gaiman

Baby, I'm sorry," he said dropping his forehead to mine in a rare moment of vulnerability. His voice was rough and shaky. "Help me. Please. I don't know what I'm doing here."
"What are you trying to do?" I asked.
He raised up, just enough to look me in the eye. "I'm trying to love you. — T.M. Frazier

My friends, don't idolize hardship. What you idolize is what your heart will look for and what your heart looks for is what you will have. And don't capitalize on misfortune, because you will always seek out to have capital! Throw away that pride! Don't put sorrow on a pedestal! If you ask me if I would rather have had my sorrows or not, I will tell you that no, I would rather have not had any of them! In the blink of an eye, I would rid myself of them! I have no pride. I don't rely on hardships and sorrows to mold me into someone. I don't allow myself to be dictated. When hardship and sorrow come knocking, saying "We are responsible for who you are today, let us in!" I'm going to say, in a split second, "No you're not! Go away, I don't owe you anything! — C. JoyBell C.

Still, a thrill raced through her when she thought about the one thing she would have. Camille wrapped her arms around Oscar's waist and held him, breathing in his distinctive scent. It was such a small detail about him. She wanted to discover all the small details about him, and now she could.
"Don't ever die again," Camille whispered, pressing her cheek against the hard muscle of his shoulder.
"I'll give staying alive my best shot. On one condition." He lifted her chin up to look him in the eye. "Choose me."
Choice. She'd always had it, but strangely a life without the soft padding of money and reputation made her feel as though she had more freedom than ever. She could do whatever she wanted to do, be whoever she wanted to be. And the only person she wanted to find her way with was Oscar.
"I already have," she whispered, running her hands up his arms and over his broad shoulders. — Angie Frazier

Wow, Angela and Holly," Ash said, sounding awed. "Hot."
"Excuse me, what is wrong with you?" Kami demanded. "Other people's sexuality is not your spectator sport."
Ash paused. "Of course," he said. "But - "
"No!" Kami exclaimed. "No buts. That's my best friend you're talking about. Your first reaction should not be 'Hot.' "
"It's not an insult," Ash protested.
"Oh, okay," Kami said. "In that case, you're going to give me a minute. I'm picturing you and Jared. Naked. Entwined."
There was a pause.
Then Jared said, "He is probably my half brother, you know."
"I don't care," Kami informed him. "All you are to me are sex objects that I choose to imagine bashing together at random. Oh, there you go again, look at that, nothing but Lynburn skin as far as the mind's eye can see. Masculine groans fill the air, husky and..."
"Stop it," Ash said in a faint voice. "That isn't fair. — Sarah Rees Brennan

I'm sure. But it doesn't work with me. for one thing, you won't look me in the eye. As for the other ... I don't know. I can just tell. — Richelle Mead

A dog will make eye contact. A cat will, too, but a cat's eyes don't even look entirely warm-blooded to me, whereas a dog's eyes look human except less guarded. A dog will look at you as if to say, "What do you want me to do for you? I'll do anything for you." Whether a dog can in fact, do anything for you if you don't have sheep (I never have) is another matter. The dog is willing. — Roy Blount Jr.

And then I saw it.
The mirror fogged over as I squinted at my reflection, and I scrubbed it with the heel of my palm. My skin squeaked against the glass, I turned my head to the side. I peered at my reflection from the corner of my eye.
Toothmarks.
Jesus.
"You left a bite mark on my neck!"
Jacob opened the shower curtain just far enough to look out at me. He knuckled water out of his eyes and grinned at me. "Good thing you don't have to woke tomorrow."
"You shit."
He grinned wider and whisked the curtain shut.
Way to go. I'd look real slick reporting for duty at the Fifth Precinct covered in hickeys like a slutty teenaged girl. Damn it. I rubbed at the toothmarks, which raised a pinkish blotch around them. "It better be gone by Thursday," I said. I'm sure Jacob felt very chastised. Not. — Jordan Castillo Price

That's always disappointed me, to see a guy in the crowd who doesn't look like he's having fun but in general if you just listen to the crowd it sounds like they're having fun. So I don't want to focus on the one guy who's not having fun. And by closing my eyes and just listening, I can't hear that he's not laughing but I can see that he's not laughing. — Mitch Hedberg

That's what being shy feels like. Like my skin is too thin, the light too bright. Like the best place I could possibly be is in a tunnel far under the cool, dark earth. Someone asks me a question and I stare at them, empty-faced, my brain jammed up with how hard I'm trying to find something interesting to say. And in the end, all I can do is nod or shrug, because the light of their eyes looking at me, waiting for me, is just too much to take. And then it's over and there's one more person in the world who thinks I'm a complete and total waste of space.
The worst thing is the stupid hopefulness. Every new party, every new bunch of people, and I start thinking that maybe this is my chance. That I'm going to be normal this time. A new leaf. A fresh start. But then I find myself at the party, thinking, Oh, yeah. This again.
So I stand on the edge of things, crossing my fingers, praying nobody will try to look me in the eye. And the good thing is, they usually don't. — Carol Rifka Brunt

I'm just one woman away, my mother, from being the same as Mike Tyson. I would've ended up like him if my mama had not been so tough and strong. A lot of people, including Mike, don't know I came from the ghetto. They think I'm too nice and proper. But that's the way my mama raised me - to look people in the eye and respect them. — Evander Holyfield

I don't like it when people don't look me dead in the eye. I move my head around trying to catch their eye. — A. J. McLean

There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who, when presented with a glass that is exactly half full, say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty.
The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass! Who's been pinching my beer?
And at the other end of the bar the world is full of the other type of person, who has a broken glass, or a glass that has been carelessly knocked over (usually by one of the people calling for a larger glass) or who had no glass at all, because he was at the back of the crowd and had failed to catch the barman's eye. — Terry Pratchett

I don't usually look people in the eye when I have sex with them."
"Why not?"
"Apparently it makes me fall in love with them. — Olivia Cunning

I don't know. You'll have to ask him yourself."
She sat up enough to look him in the eye. "I am not talking to
your ... your ... "
"Mighty throbbing manhood?"
"Briec."
"That which brings you much delirious pleasure?"
"Briec."
"That which makes you whole?"
"Stop it, dragon. You're making me physically ill."
...
"Ow!"
"Be nice, woman. I'm not used to this."
She rubbed her ass and glared at him. "Do that again and you'll
lose that which you believe makes me whole. — G.A. Aiken

What were you doing talking to that man?" Emma lifted her chin to look him in the eye. "He was talking to me. I was only being polite." "Well, don't be. Do you hear me, Miss Smallwood? Stay away from him. — Julie Klassen

Look, at the same time that I don't want to be a celebrity, I understand that when you make movies you put yourself out in the public eye. I'd be a baby and a fool to be like, 'Why are there cameras taking pictures of me?' when I'm on a billboard for a movie. I think that's a very absurd concept. — Jonah Hill

As if rethinking, he stops and laces his fingertips through my gloved hand, pulling me close. "In case I don't get another chance to tell you ... One, you look amazing." He traces my eye markings where they curl out from under the fuzzy edges of my mask. "And two ... " He turns my hand to kiss my covered palm. "You got this, fairy queen."
Sucking in a sharp breath, I throw my arms around his neck. He hugs me tight, presses his lips to the top of my head, then steps back and pulls his hood into place, vanishing from sight. — A.G. Howard

My sisters and I stand, arms around each other, laughind and wiping the tears from each others eyes. The flash of the Polaroid goes off and my family hands me the snapshot. My sisters and I watch quietly together, eager to see what develops. Ghe grey-greensurface changes to the bright colors of our three images, sharpening and deepening all at once. And although we don't speak, I know we all see it: Together we look like our mother. Her same eyes, her same mouth, open in suprise to see, her long-cherished wish. — Amy Tan

It's common knowledge in the industry that people often lie, or minimize things, when they participate in surveys, No one wants to tell a stranger they drink four cocktails a night, or eat junk food for every meal. It's the same with their views on candidates and political issues. Most people won't tell you they don't like someone when they have to look you in the eye. None of that would matter for me, though, because I would know their true emotions whether they shared them or not. — Evette Davis

She wiped her eye and pressed her lips together. "I sleep in your room. I'm fairly pathetic about it, really. I wear your T-shirts to bed and watch
your movies." She paused. "And you don't even remember me."
This time I stopped walking. "Do you think it's easy for me?" She had gotten a few steps ahead and turned to look back at me. "No, I don't
remember you. I don't remember holding you or talking to you or falling in love with you - but I walk around with a giant hole in my heart all the time. I
feel your absence every second of the day. It aches and nothing soothes it. Losing you is bad enough, but I don't even get the comfort of
remembering that I had you once. — Gwen Hayes