Eyes To Eyes Contact Quotes & Sayings

You'll be sorry some day. Why don't you ever understand what I'm trying to tell you: it's with your six sense that you're fooled into believing not only that you have six senses, but that you contact an actual outside world with them. If it wasn't for your eyes, you wouldn't see me. If it wasn't for your ears, you wouldn't hear that airplane. If it wasn't for your nose, you wouldn't smell that midnight mint. If it wasn't for your tongue taster, you wouldn't taste the difference between A and B. If it wasn't for your body, you wouldn't feel Princess. There is no me, no airplane, no mind, no Princess, no nothing, you for krissakes do you want to go on being fooled every damn minute of your life? — Jack Kerouac

Priss tried to open her door, but it still didn't budge. "Unlock it."
Instead he pulled her around to face him. He started to blast her, but something funny happening. Instead of reading her the riot act, he stared into her eyes, then down at her mouth. His entire demeanor changed. He looked just as tense, but now for different, hotter reasons.
He still stared intently at her mouth when Priss heard the lock click open. She glanced down and saw that Trace had reached back for the door, all without breaking that disturbing, electrifying visual contact with her.
She met his gaze again, and softened. Damn, but resisting Trace wouldn't be easy, not if he kept looking at her like that. "You're coming in, too?"
"Yes." Suddenly, almost violently, he turned away from her and left the car. Still a gentleman, he strode around to her side and opened her door. "Let's get this night over with."
Well. That sounded insulting. — Lori Foster

Do not close your eyes before suffering. Find ways to be with those who are suffering by all means, Including personal contact and visits, images, sound. By such means, awaken yourself and others to the reality of suffering in the world. — Gautama Buddha

From the premise that Christianity is true it follows that the far-off glimpse of joy produced by fantasy is a glimpse of truth; that a great eucatastrophic tale like The Lord of the Rings is a gift of divine grace, an opening of the curtain that veils Heaven to earthly eyes, a tiny telepathic contact with the Mind of God. — Peter Kreeft

He had a strange way of talking, his head tucked into his neck and his eyes fixed in the empty space beyond, as if something were suspended there, ripe fruit or a glimmer of light, as if he were not quite brave enough, or perhaps too polite, to look a person in the eye. — Jan Ellison

With a creature, there's no voice, so the eyes become the voice. When you get eye-to-eye contact, a real connection, it's limitless - and incredibly thrilling. — Jamie Wyeth

The first man ... ventured to call food and nourishment the parts that had a little before bellowed and cried, moved and lived. How could his eyes endure the slaughter when throats were slit and hides flayed and limbs torn from limb? How could his nose endure the stench? How was it that the pollution did not turn away his taste, which made contact with the sores of others and sucked juices and serums from mortal wounds? — Plutarch

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Nash leaning against the wall right outside the ladies' room. His legs are crossed casually at the ankle, as his arms are crossed casually over his chest. His smile is faint. And sad.
Finally, he straightens and steps toward me. He doesn't stop until he is mere inches from me, forcing me to tilt my face up just to maintain eye contact.
He brushes his thumb over the ridge of my cheekbone at the corner of my eye. I wonder briefly if I missed a streak of mascara.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, closing his eyes as if in pain. His face is etched with regret and it tugs at my heart.
"Don't be. You can't control other people. I just hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly, or ruined any important business connections you were hoping to make."
"I don't care about business connections. Not at this cost. — M. Leighton

If I have no contact whatsoever with God in my life, then I cannot see in the other anything more than the other, and I am incapable of seeing in him the image of God. But if in my life I fail completely to heed others, solely out of a desire to be "devout" and to perform my "religious duties", then my relationship with God will also grow arid. It becomes merely "proper", but loveless. Only my readiness to encounter my neighbour and to show him love makes me sensitive to God as well. Only if I serve my neighbour can my eyes be opened to what God does for me and how much he loves me. — Pope Benedict XVI

What do I need to do to get you to trust me? What do you want from me?" He yells. I steel myself and look up into his panicked eyes and fight the pull I feel at coming in contact with those sapphires again. "Nothing! I don't want anything from you!" I shout out the biggest lie I have ever told in my entire life. Connor's eyes widen at my words and his face falls, every ounce of fire gone from his gaze. He backs away then smiles weakly at me.
"Well, Merry Fucking Christmas Nina, because you have it all anyway. — Devon Herrera

You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you're wrong."
He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin.
"My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe.
His dark eyes lifting to mine, he adds, "But I resist it."
"Why ... " I swallow hard. "Why is that your first instinct?"
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating." He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just want to see it again. Want to see you awake. — Veronica Roth

Men may sail the seas for a lifetime and seldom, if ever, come in contact with the nightmare monsters that inhabit the caves and cliffs of the ocean floor. Gazing down at the slightly muddy water, the men of The Unicorn saw a squirming mass of interwoven tentacles resembling enormous snakes, immensely thick and long and tapering at their free ends to the size of a man's thumb. It was a foul sight, an obscene growth from the dark places of the world, where incessant hunger is the driving force. At one place, down near the bulge of the hull, appeared a staring gorgon face with great lidless eyes and a huge parrot beak that moved slightly, opening and shutting as though it had just crunched and swallowed a meal of warm flesh.
("Fire In The Galley Stove") — William Outerson

At Pappachi's funeral, Mammachi cried and her contact lenses slid around in her eyes. Ammu told the twins that Mammachi was crying more because she was used to him than because she loved him. She was used to having him slouching around the pickle factory, and was used to being beaten from time to time. Ammu said that human beings were creatures of habit, and it was amazing the kinds of things they could get used to. You only had to look around you, Ammu said, to see that beatings with brass vases were the least of them. — Arundhati Roy

Aden turned his body toward her . . . and then he did an unexpected thing for an Arrow. He reached out to cup her jaw, hold her face for a long, taut second, their eyes locked. I think, he said at last, you are a worthy match for my friend, Ivy Jane. You see the greatness of him - and you see his vulnerability. Neither scares you. A decisive nod as he broke contact. Anything you need from me, you can have. You need only ask. — Nalini Singh

Is this one addiction I can indulge?" Ty's eyes closed as soon as they made contact, and he turned his head to the side and sighed softly as he slid his arms around Zane. "At least it's not one that'll kill you," he answered flatly. Zane's mouth tipped up at the corners. He wasn't too sure he'd say that. — Madeleine Urban

Positive Eye Contact Quality time should include loving eye contact. Looking in your child's eyes with care is a powerful way to convey love from your heart to the heart of your child. Studies have shown that most parents use eye contact in primarily negative ways, either while reprimanding a child or giving very explicit instructions. If you give loving looks only when your child is pleasing you, you are falling into the trap of conditional love. That can damage your child's personal growth. You want to give enough unconditional love to keep your child's emotional tank full, and a key way to do this is through proper use of eye contact. Sometimes family members refuse to look at one another as a means of punishment. This is destructive to both adults and children. Kids especially interpret withdrawal of eye contact as disapproval, and this further erodes their self-esteem. Don't let your demonstration of — Gary Chapman

Her eyes widened. I assumed in alarm, but who the hell knew what was going on in her stubborn head. I took the coffee cup from her hand and rested it on the grass next to mine. I leaned in toward her slowly. Her eyes remained steady on mine. Just as I was so close I could feel her warm erratic breath on my face, her hand landed on my chest.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
Maintaining eye contact I smiled, reached out, held the back of her head and pulled her closer still. "What I should have done ten years ago." ~ Preston, A Perfect Moment — Becca Lee

He opened his eyes to reveal the storm within him. "My every instinct is telling me to have my way with you." He was dead serious and my cheeks heated. Fire shone in his eyes and I broke eye contact, burying my face into his cotton-covered chest. "But not nearly as difficult as going all this time without you," he said. — Wendy Higgins

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

In London, people can be so ... well, it's not even a case of people being unkind or unfriendly. You just don't make any contact in London. You go from A to B with your eyes on the pavement. — Carey Mulligan

Politics is intensely physical: your hands touch, clasp and hold, and your eyes are always reaching for contact. None of this came naturally to me. I'd always put my trust in words and let the words do the work, but in politics, the real message is physical. — Michael Ignatieff

I turn back to see that he is holding out the book, offering it to me. My eyes make contact with the book at first and then travel up his very muscular, very athletic arm, coming to rest on the utterly beautiful tattoo that is wrapped around it. I can't see the head of the angel, but the detail of its wings as they sheathe his bicep and the sword it holds within its grasp are simply stunning. — A.J. Walters

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

Jason once told me that eye contact is the most intimacy two people can have
forget sex
because the optic nerve is technically an extension of the brain, and when two people look into each other's eyes, it's brain-to-brain. — Douglas Coupland

In Savasana or in meditation, the light of the eyes is drawn towards the lotus of the heart, so that the seat of the intelligence of the head is brought into contact with the seat of the intelligence of the heart, which is called the mind. Thus one passes from the individualistic state of consciousness to the universal state of consciousness. It is the merging of the intellect of the brain with the intellect of the soul. — B.K.S. Iyengar

I turned back looking far away not making contact with anyone and I paced to my room with tears in my eyes, solitude in my heart and nuisance in my mind. I locked my door, rested in bed and slept while still desperate. — Shaikh Ashraf

She shuffled with her head bowed, her dark eyes drifting to avoid contact, and she screamed in bed at night. (Dark City Lights) — Jim Fusilli

Marian's eyes absolutely blaze. To meet them is to have a shock of contact as if they were electrically charged. Now you see? You wondered what was in whale's milk. Don't you know now? The same thing that's in a mushroom spore so small you need a microscope to see it, or in gophers, or poison oak, or anything else we try to pave under or grub out, or poison. There isn't good life and bad life, there's only life. Think of the force down there, just telling things to get born! — Wallace Stegner

Canaba gave Miles a cold look. "The left gastrocnemius muscle. That's where I injected my complexes. These storage virus aren't virulent; they won't have migrated far. The greatest concentration should still be there." "I see." Miles rubbed his temples, pressed his eyes. "All right. We'll take care of it. This personal contact between us is very dangerous, and I'd rather not repeat it. Plan to report to my ship in forty-eight hours. Will we have any trouble recognizing your critter?" "I don't think so. This particular specimen topped out at just over eight feet. I . . . want you to know, the fangs were not my idea." "I . . . see." "It — Lois McMaster Bujold

Basic human contact - the meeting of eyes, the exchanging of words - is to the psyche what oxygen is to the brain. If you're feeling abandoned by the world, interact with anyone you can. — Martha Beck

Brenna's eyes widened. Raising a hand, she brushed his hair gently off his forehead.
"Why do I keep telling you things I swore I'd take to my grave?"
The contact shot electricity through his nerves. "Because you know I'll always be your shield against the nightmares. — Nalini Singh

We were pulling into the next station, when the woman suddenly got to her feet and made a move to squeeze past me. As her knees made contact with mine, she turned towards me. Her eyes locked straight onto mine, her eyelids pinned back, with a look I could only describe as sheer dread. In the next second, deep tram-lines formed between her eyebrows and her expression shifted. It was as if she was silently imploring me, entreating me. To do what? I had no idea. I was immobile, her gaze pressing me into my seat by some centrifugal force and I held her stare, unsure of how to react. Just as swiftly, she dropped her eyes and the moment passed. With one final glance behind her, she was swallowed up in the bodies at the door.
She was getting off. Something wasn't right. — A.J. Waines

As soon as a Western man comes into contact with the East
he's already confused. The West has sort of an international rape mentality towards the East ... Basically, 'Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes.' The West thinks of itself as masculine
big guns, big industry, big money
so the East is feminine
weak, delicate, poor ... but good at art, and full of inscrutable wisdom
the feminine mystique. Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes. The West believes the East, deep down, wants to be dominated
because a woman can't think for herself ... You expect Oriental countries to submit to your guns, and you expect Oriental women to be submissive to your men. — David Henry Hwang

But how can she fight him without touching him?" Aiden pushed off the wall and strode to the middle of the room. "The gods have to understand that."

"They do." Apollo's eyes narrowed on me. "But I was hoping there was something knocking around in her brain that held the answer to that little problem. But - "

Apollo smacked a hand down on my leg. "Must you always be moving some part of your body?"

I glared at him as I not-so-gently removed his hand. The contact of his flesh on mine brought the marks of Apollyon out like nothing else. And I knew he saw them by the way his eyes darted over my face. "It's not hurting you," I said.

"It's annoying."

"You're annoying," I shot back.

To our left, Aiden rolled his eyes. "All right, children, back to the important stuff. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I cut a glance to him, and his eyes were still on me.
It occurred to me why they call it eye contact. — John Green

Q: Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact? A: Because breasts don't have eyes. — Scott McNeely

Unable to handle the intensity of this man, my eyes quickly darted away, breaking eye contact. Only to land on his mouth. A very kissable mouth. Soft sculpted lips. I couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like against mine. Soft and giving or firm and aggressive. — J.C. Grant

It's funny how he refuses to make eye contact during sex yet can't seem to keep his eyes off me the rest of the time. — Colleen Hoover

I who am blind can give one hint to those who see: Use your eyes as if tomorrow you would be stricken blind. And the same method can be applied to the other senses. Hear the music of voices, the song of a bird, the mighty strains of an orchestra, as if you would be stricken deaf tomorrow. Touch each object as if tomorrow your tactile sense would fail. Smell the perfume of flowers, taste with relish each morsel, as if tomorrow you could never smell and taste again. make the most of every sense; glory in the beauty which the world in all the facets of pleasure reveals to you through the several means of contact which Nature provides. But of all the senses, I am sure that sight is the most delightful. — Helen Keller

The two angels were both tall, but Aodhan was perhaps an inch taller, and now his eyes locked with Illium's for a long, quiet moment before he lowered his head slightly. Illium raised his hand, the movement slow, hesitant ... and then his fingers brushed Aodhan's cheek just below the cut that had almost sealed. The first ray of dawn kissed the tear that rolled down Illium's face, caressed the painful wonder on Aodhan's as he lifted his hand to clasp the wrist of his friend's hand.
That instant of contact, the power of it, stole her breath.
Then Illium smiled, said something that made Aodhan's lips curve-Elena thought it might've been "Welcome back, Sparkle"-and they were separating to sweep off the Tower in a symphony of wild silver blue and heartbreaking light.
"Raphael," she whispered, having felt him come up behind her. "Did you see?"
"Yes." His hand on her nape, his thumb brushing over her pulse. "Of course it would be Illium who reached him," he murmured. — Nalini Singh

I can go an entire day without any socialisation, without a conversation with anyone. I wonder sometimes if I'm invisible. I feel like the old men and women who used to bother me by engaging in unnecessary chit-chat with the cashiers while I was stuck behind them, in a hurry, wanting to get on to the next place. When you don't have a next place to go to, time slows down enormously. I feel myself noticing other people more, catching more eyes, or seeking out eye contact. I'm now ripe and ready for a conversation about anything with anyone; it would make my day if somebody would meet my eye, or if there was someone to talk to. But everyone is too busy, and that makes me feel invisible; and invisibility, contrary to what I believed before, lacks any sense of lightness and liberty. Instead it makes me feel heavy. And so I drag myself around, trying to convince myself that I don't feel heavy, invisible, bored and worthless, and that I am free. I do not convince myself well. — Cecelia Ahern

And what about the lovers who spend hours staring into each other's eyes? Is it a display of trust? I will let you in close and trust you not to hurt me while I'm in this vulnerable position. And if trust is one of the foundations of love, perhaps the staring is a way to build or reinforce it. Or maybe it's simpler than that.
A simple search for connection.
To see.
To be seen. — Nicola Yoon

Sophos, you sleep with a knife under your pillow? I'm hurt."
"I'm sorry," said Sounis, afraid that he had made contact with his wild swing.
"I was joking. Wake up the rest of the way, would you?"
"Gen, it's the middle of the night."
"I know," said the king of Attolia.
Sounis tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He was sitting up in his bed. The sky was still entirely dark, and he couldn't have been asleep for long. He suspected that he had just dropped off. The bare knife was still in his hand, he realized, and he rooted under his pillow for the sheath.
"Don't you trust my palace security?"
"Yes, of course," Sounis said, trying to think of some other reason besides mistrust to sleep with a knife. He heard Eugenides laugh.
"My queen and I sleep with a matched set under our pillows, as well as handguns in pockets on the bedposts. Don't be embarrassed. — Megan Whalen Turner

I'm only trying to pull my own weight. I don't want to be a liability.'
She reached out, smiling.
'And I would imagine I'll still be required to maintain close contact with you while I learn. At least in the beginning.'
He looked at their joined hands before turning his eyes to hers, a slow smile spreading across his own lips.
'It would be, ahem, wise to maintain physical contact while learning, that is true. — Michelle Zink

A kiss, he said, is a conversation. Easing closer, he continued to speak as he caressed her cheeks with featherlight stokes of his thumbs.
"A first kiss", his lips neared hers, is an introduction and then his mouth brushed against hers. The contact sparked, sharp and bright like lightning, yet his lips were soft, unexpectedly so. Her breath caught the same instant his did.
Against her mouth he whispered "That was Hello" His breath mingled with hers as he waited, his lips so close she could feel their warmth. For a moment she simply breathed him in growing heady on the scent of him and the tight anticipation gathering in her belly. Then she understood. Nerves fluttering, she brushed her lips across his as he had done. Again his breath hitched, as if he too felt that same spark, that hot need. Her eyes drifted closed and his voice poured over her like warm cream.
"This is, 'I'm Jack'. — Kristen Callihan

The raft finally got here," he said.
Calypso snorted. Her eyes might have been red, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight. "You just noticed?"
"But if it only shows up for guys you like-"
"Don't push your luck, Leo Valdez," she said. "I still hate you."
"Okay."
"And you are not coming back here," she insisted. "So don't give me any empty promises."
"How about a full promise?" he said. "Because I'm definitely-"
She grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, which effectively shut him up.
For all his joking and flirting, Leo had never kissed a girl before. Well, sisterly pecks on the cheeck from Piper, but that didn't count. This was a real, full-contact kiss. If Leo had had gears and wires in his brain, they would've short-circuited.
Calypso pushed him away. "That didn't happen."
"Okay." His voice sounded an octave higher than usual. — Rick Riordan

Anything else?" Yes, my body can dissolve other magic on contact. I'm essentially a battering ram against magic. "No, that's it." Kai turned in place, his eyes scanning the scene. "Something feels wrong here." The magic-dissolving battering ram standing next to you. — Ella Summers

In contact with materials, I can see so much more with my hands than I can just with my eyes. I'm a participant, not a spectator. I see myself both as an object and a material, and the human presence is really important to the landscapes in which I work. — Andy Goldsworthy

A person is nothing but his image. Philosophers can tell us that it doesn't matter what the world thinks of us, that nothing matters but what we really are. But philosophers don't understand anything. As long as we live with other people, we are only what other people consider us to be. Thinking about how others see us and trying to make our image as attractive as possible is considered a kind of dissembling or cheating. But does there exist another kind of direct contact between my self and their selves except through the mediation of the eyes? Can we possibly imagine love without anxiously following our image in the mind of the beloved? When we are no longer interested in how we are seen by the person we love, it means we no longer love. — Milan Kundera

I don't have to look at your eyes to listen that's what
my ears are for. — Tina J. Richardson

There is a saying, 'Eyes are the windows to the soul.' It means, mostly, people can see through someone else by eye contact in seven seconds. I have a habit that if I meet someone I don't know, I'd like to look at her or his eyes on purpose. When my eyes lay on them, I can immediately see their true color. — Peng Liyuan

Well, does it make sense to you?"
He said, "It doesn't have to, it's something that happens. It's like seeing a person you never saw before - you could be passing on the street - and you look at each other..."
Karen was nodding. "You make eye contact without meaning to."
"And for a few moments," Foley said, "there's a kind of recognition. You look at each other and you know something."
"That no one else knows," Karen said. "You see it in their eyes."
"And the next moment the person's gone," Foley said, "and it's too late to do anything about it, but you remember it because it was right there and you let it go, and you think, What if I had stopped and said something? It might happen only a few times in your life."
"Or once," Karen said. — Elmore Leonard

Me: Why don't you ever practice on your balcony like you used to? This question gets me immediate eye contact from him, but it doesn't last. His eyes flicker across my face, down my body, and finally back to his phone.
Ridge: Why would I? You're not out there anymore. — Colleen Hoover

We need to keep an eye on her," Edgar added.
Nathan's grip on me tightened. His nectar of the Gods smell intoxicated me. "Are my eyes not fit to watch over her?"
Dylan stepped towards us. "It's not that, we don't think-"
Nathan didn't let him finish. "I am forever grateful to all of you." He glanced around the room making deliberate eye contact with each person. "However, none of you have any comprehension of my emotions right now. It is my divine right to have time alone with her. — Karen Amanda Hooper

Eye contact is a method utilised by a single woman to communicate to a man that she is interested in him. Many women find it difficult to look a man directly in the eyes, not because of shyness, but because a woman's eyes are not located in her chest. — Rita Rudner

Laurel look up at him in question, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She always wished she had more time to draw secrets from him. "I'll wear it always," she said.
"And think of me?" His eyes held her captive, and she knew there was only one answer.
"Yes."
"Good."
She started to turn, but before she could step away, Tamani grabbed her hand. Without breaking eye contact, he raised her hand to his face and brushed his lips over her knuckles. For just a second, his eyes were unguarded. A spark went through Laurel at what she saw there: raw, unbridled desire.
Before she could look any closer, he smiled, and the flash was gone. — Aprilynne Pike

He had never regarded other men as anything but puppets of a sort, created to fill up an empty world. He divided them into two classes: those he greeted because some chance had put him in contact with them, and those he did not greet. But both these categories of individuals were equally insignificant in his eyes.
("An Old Man") — Guy De Maupassant

Jesus' example is one of patience and keeping the peace. He was never argumentative or disrespectful. Never rolled His eyes or sighed with exasperation. Never turned red in the face or stomped his foot with His hands on His hips. He taught the same lesson again and again. He made eye contact and gathered his friends close to Himself. He used different illustrations. His goal was not to be right, but that they would understand. This wasn't a battle to win, it was an opportunity to teach. — Lee Peoples

It's a side effect of the process. You know how they say the eyes are the windows to the soul?" he asked, and I swallowed thickly before nodding. I didn't like where this was headed. "Evidently they mean that literally. Once the soul is gone, there's nothing to see through the windows."
Nash whistled softly. "That has to be the weirdest thing I've ever seen." And that meant a lot coming from a bean sidhe.
"You want me to put the contact back in, don't you?" Addison cocked her head and gave him a small, eerie smile.
"That's be great, thanks." Nash nodded decisively.
-Tod, Nash and Addison talking about her blank white eyes — Rachel Vincent

Do not avoid contact with suffering or close your eyes before suffering. Do not lose awareness of the existence of suffering in the life of the world. Find ways to be with those who are suffering by all means, including personal contact and visits, images, sounds. By such means, ... awaken yourself and others to the reality of suffering in the world. If we get in touch with the suffering of the world, and are moved by that suffering, we may come forward to help the people who are suffering. — Thich Nhat Hanh

He sighed, breaking the eye contact. "I just wanted you to know why I'm cautious. When the divorce was final, I swore I'd never let another woman into my heart. Love made me weak." He forced himself to look her in the eyes. "I've never met anyone like you, and today, I would've died for you and wouldn't have regretted it for a second. — Lisa Kessler

You smell good to me," he said, his voice deeper than before, like a warm autumn night, the vowels especially round. Not French. Italian? Spanish? He must have come with one of the other guests-one of the other guests who had wretched judgment when hiring stable hands. "I-" "And, por Deus," he said upon a catch in his throat, his eyes hard upon her mouth, "you are lovely." The rutting urge must have overcome him. The only male creature that had ever considered her lovely was Beast, and that was because she sometimes smelled like bacon. She must distract him. "I can help with that bruise on your brow," she said, struggling against panic. "Can you?" He seemed bemused. Jars to the head could scramble the brain. "It's starting to swell. It will leave a painful wound that could fester. Let me up and I'll ask the housekeeper for-" His mouth came down on hers without further warning. Not hard or violently or forcefully. But fully, with complete contact.

-Vitor & Ravenna — Katharine Ashe

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.

Since you always lived inside your own head, you were much better at seeing the truth about others than you ever were at seeing yourself. So you navigated your life with the help of others who held up mirrors for you. People praised your good qualities and criticized your bad habits, and these perspectives - often surprising to you - helped you to guide your life. So poorly did you know yourself that you were always surprised at how you looked in photographs or how you sounded on voice mail. In this way, much of your existence took place in the eyes, ears, and fingertips of others. And now that you've left the Earth, you are stored in scattered heads around the globe. Here in this Purgatory, all the people with whom you've ever come in contact are gathered. The scattered bits of you are collected, pooled, and unified. The mirrors are held up in front of you. Without the benefit of filtration, you see yourself clearly for the first time. And that is what finally kills you. — David Eagleman

Staring into someone's eyes for a long time is psychic. At first it's very strange and scary - scarier than the first time you have sex. Then you begin to relax, and the person you're looking at may become very beautiful. As you look into their eyes, you may see them change sex or race. You can see the child in an old person and a young person may appear ancient. Just looking into someone's eyes for a long time can be trippier than taking acid. — Steve Abbott

His dark eyes met mine, just the same. A lean, saturnine face, his cheekbones balanced, his mouth a straight unforgiving line. The demon Tierce Japhrimel touched my cheek, his knuckles brushing my skin. The contact sent a shudder through me, my body recognizing him before the rest of me could dare to. "You burned," I managed, before another fit of retching and gagging shook me. "You burned - you were
ash - "
"While you live, I live." The corners of his mouth turned down, an expressive movement that managed to give the impression of a grim smile. "I suppose nobody told you." I shook my head weakly. — Lilith Saintcrow

Looking up at Max he asked, "Do you recommend anything?" He kept his eyes low and to the table, trying but failing to keep his eyes open against the bright sun light.
"You okay?" Max asked, watching as Landon struggled to meet her eyes.
"I'm trying not to look at you," he replied.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I mean I'm trying not to hurt my eyes."
Max crossed her arms over her chest and raised a wicked brow.
Landon shielded the sun with his hand and finally made eye contact with her. "That came out wrong," he said apologetically.
"It sure did," she said with a chuckle. — Shawn Kirsten Maravel

Couples who are in love want to gaze into each other's eyes. Prolonged eye contact is one of the most powerful nonverbal ways we communicate interest in others. So — Nancy C. Anderson

Anyone can turn,Aidan. Any one of us without a lifemate. Gregori glided across the room because he could not stand the physical distance Savannah had put between them. Her eyes were once again shadowed and haunted, the memorial service filling her with sadness and guilt.He slipped behind her chair,his hands coming down on her shoulders to begin a gentle massage. He neeed the contact as much as she did.
Aidan hid his shock.He had known Gregori for centuries, had learned healing arts from him, had learned to stalk and kill the vampire from him. Nothing ever touched Gregori. Nothing. No one.But those cold silver eyes, as they swept over Savannah, were molten mercury, the man's posture clearly protective, possessive, and the touch on her shoulders was frankly tender. — Christine Feehan

After about midday my dad sent cars from his private collection for us. We were told to get in. We had almost lost contact with my father and brothers because things had got out of hand. I saw with my own eyes the [Iraqi] army withdrawing and the terrified faces of the Iraqi soldiers who, unfortunately, were running away and looking around them. Missiles were falling on my left and my right - they were not more than fifty or one hundred metres away. We moved in small cars. I had a gun between my feet just in case. — Raghad Hussein

Actors work with their look. I come from the Lon Chaney Sr. school of acting. I'll wear wigs, I'll wear nose pieces, I'll wear green contact lenses in my eyes. I'll do whatever I need to do to create a character. — Nicolas Cage

Silas talks about San Francisco, so avidly that I think he's trying to fill the air with words before it can be consumed with awkward silences. I don't know why I feel those silences lurking all around us, but every time Silas and I make eye contact, I can sense them there, waiting to slip in and make me blush. I try to avoid his eyes, stealing glances at his arched brows and bow-shaped lips whenever he's looking away. — Jackson Pearce

You must be a fucking masochist to want anything to do with me."
Her hand slipped beneath my shirt, making my stomach muscles clench on contact, and her eyes locked with mine. "Or maybe I see something deeper than the darkness you wear on the surface. — Keri Lake

It is as his own mind comes into contact with others that truth will begin to acquire value in the child's eyes and will consequently become a moral demand that can be made upon him. As long as the child remains egocentric, truth as such will fail to interest him and he will see no harm in transposing facts in accordance with his desires. — Jean Piaget

When our eyes made contact it was like being slapped, I just wanted to recoil — Kate Le Vann

That invisibility to which I refer occurs because of a peculiar disposition of the eyes of those with whom I come in contact. A matter of the construction of their inner eyes, those eyes with which they look through their physical eyes upon reality. I am not complaining, nor am I protesting either. It is sometimes advantageous to be unseen, although it is most often rather wearing on the nerves. — Ralph Ellison

The bar staff and croupiers all wore black with the same green triangle logo emblazoned on their shirts, and contact lenses which made their eyes shine an eerie, vibrant green. The bar optics glowed with the same green light, the intensity of which was linked to the music. As the bartender walked away to fetch the drinks, a breakdown in the techno track commenced and the bottles began to palpitate. The bartender's eyes glowed with a hallucinatory felinity that made Mangle feel nervous. — R.D. Ronald

Have you been walking in the woods in the last few days?" Matt asked.
Lola cleared her throat anxiously. What had she managed to do now, catch jungle fever? "We went hiking in the Greenhills on Wednesday. What's wrong?" Her voice sounded squeaky, so she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.
"I don't suppose you've heard of poison ivy," Matt asked. He traced the curve of her knee, pushing the hem of her skirt up her thigh. "Small plant, three leaves, glossy green. Causes a rash of small bumps about a day after contact. Sound familiar? — Bonnie J. James

I played football for Leeds United under-18s, but at 17 my eyes started to go and I had to wear glasses. The football had to go - there were no contact lenses in 1957. — Geoffrey Boycott

Open your eyes, baby. Look at me." He pressed his forehead down to meet mine, my eyelids fluttering open at his command. "Look at me and tell me you don't want it."
I peered up at him with unsteady breaths, hearing his throat work when I tilted my lips to graze his. The contact was feather light, my heart hammering through my chest at the feel of it. "I'm looking," I breathed against him.
"Good. Because right now, all I want to do is rip your clothes off and make you come until you can't stand, and I want your eyes on me the whole time, are we clear?"
-Jackson and Emma — Rachael Wade

Well, in the meantime, Carter and I have been discussing the matter of Ryan." This time it wasn't the clang of a pan I heard, but instead a messy smack
the contact of Carter's backhand with Dean's head, I presumed. "Just hear me out. You have options. I have an Italian uncle. He'll make sure Ryan is sleeping with the fishes by next week."
"Dean!" Unable to repress my amusement, my eyes flew wide and my grin grew.
"Either that, or we can go all Sweeney Todd on him and
"
"Oh, will you stop?" My laughter was crippling. "There will be no calls to your uncle and no trip to the barber shop
please, leave Sweeney Todd out of it. — Rachael Wade

The object in America is to avoid contact, to treat all as foes unless they're known to be friends. Here you have a million crabs living in a million crevices ... But the garden's greatest benefit, I feel, as not relief to the eyes, but to make the eyes sees our neighbors. — Paul Fleischman

He lowered his voice and leaned in so his breath caressed her face. "I'll give you everything I am. I swear it. If you trust me you'll never have any reason to regret it. Start a life with me, Mary. Let's leave the past behind and create a new future together." Fingers twined in the wet hair at her nape so that she had to tilt her chin to maintain eye contact. "Let me love you, angel eyes. — Aline Hunter

I tried to get my hands beneath his shirt, but because of the way we were sitting, I couldn't find the hem. Instead, the back of my hand brushed across the undeniable hardness between his legs. The accidental contact made his entire body jerk and go rigid as a groan ripped from his mouth.
"Fuck, Katie."
"I-I'm sorry," I said, my voice low and shaky.
He pulled back, staring down at me with passion in his eyes. "Do it again. — Cambria Hebert

Whenever I saw her face, I felt that I myself had become beautiful. At the mere thought of her, I felt elevated by contact with her nobility. If this strange phenomenon we call Love can be said to have two poles, the higher of which is a sense of holiness and the baser the impulse of sexual desire, this love of mine was undoubtedly in the grip of Love's higher realm. Being human, of course, I could not leave my fleshly self behind, yet the eyes that beheld her, the heart that treasured thoughts of her, knew nothing of the reek of the physical. — Soseki Natsume

I hit you. Won't that make you go away? What else can I do?" he snarled. He'd fallen back on his old standby, anger.
"I'm not going away, Cole, so maybe we can cut out the assaults in the future. You don't want me to go away. I know that. You love me, Cole. That's the feeling that makes you so angry." She'd sighed and looked at the ceiling. "You don't know what to do with it, because the people you've loved in the past caused you pain. That's what you think love is. Pain."
She'd looked at his face until he met her eyes. They were still green.
"But, Cole, I love you. Have I hurt you? Ever?"
Cole had to shake his head. She hadn't. Not once.
"I'm showing you what to do with love, Cole." She stood and held out her arms.
A hug. A simple hug he didn't have to earn by throwing a chair. Human contact that wasn't required because he was trying to hurt someone. She still trusted him. She still saw something in him. — Debra Anastasia

He dialed the number that Health Partners had listed in their contact information. A pleasant southern voice answered, but Baldwin quickly realized it was voice mail. Damn, he was hoping to get a secretary. The voice gave him the option of hitting zero to speak to a live person, and he did just that. Muzak drifted out from his earpiece and he rolled his eyes. There was just something so wrong about hearing synthesized Aerosmith. "Dude (Looks Like A Lady)" just didn't work in the dulcet tones of elevator music. After — J.T. Ellison

I feel that in-person contact with people is the most important thing in comedy. While I'm up on stage, I can actually put myself into the audience and adjust my pace and tuning to them. I can get into their heads through their ears and through their eyes. Only through this total communication can I really achieve what I'm trying to do. — Bill Cosby

We are tied down, all our days and for the greater part of our days, to the commonplace. That is where contact with the great thinkers, great literature helps. In their company we are still in the ordinary world, but it is the ordinary world transfigured and seen through the eyes of wisdom and genius. And some of their genius becomes ours ... in The Great Conversation — Mortimer J. Adler

A layer of fine powder coats his skin.
"My lungs are turning to concrete," Rob wheezes, hacking and spitting.
"So are my eyes. How do I always get roped into these things?" Avery coughs and pats Rob's back in sympathy. A poof of dust billows from the contact. — Laura Kreitzer

The whole glittering nebula of shapes was framed by midnight colors - black, bruised blue, indigo, all textured into intricacy by clouds and the reachless vaults between them. Here, darkness was not simple; it hinted at structures and meanings, hidden activity and watchful eyes. Beacons flickered, miles away, then disappeared behind fog banks. Half-glimpsed ropes twisted and contorted their way up, down, and to every side, synapses reaching to contact the outlier towns and factories of Sere's hinterland. One or two of those ropes, if you followed them far enough, would emerge into sunlight at other nations' borders. — Karl Schroeder

Can I touch you?"
His lashes closed, resting on the tops of his tanned, sculpted cheeks as his smile grew broad. "You don't have to ask." I reached out immediately but paused within inches of contact. He must've sensed my hesitation because he reopened his eyes. "What's wrong?"
I swallowed, utterly overwhelmed. "I don't know where to start."
Mason's gaze warmed . He wrapped strong warm fingers around my wrist and drew my palm forward, leading me where he wanted my hand to follow. When he set it on the center of his chest, right over his heart and pressed my flesh to his as if fingerprinting my soul to his. I blinked back gratified tears.
"Start here. No one's ever touched me here before. — Linda Kage

The tiny body was slippery, and he held her tightly, afraid she'd slither out of his grip. He rotated the infant face-up, holding her about ten inches away from his face. The top of her head had a slight cone shape. Her blue-tinged hands pinked. The baby's eyes were open, alert and seemingly amazed.
They connected with his.
A jolt of intense feeling, of recognition, flowed between them. As he gazed on the scrunched features of the infant, love surged through him. He'd never felt such a feeling before, and his chest ached with the joyful pressure. Caleb wanted to curl her to his chest and keep her safe. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling a scent that surprised him with its sweetness.
"My baby?" Maggie asked.
The infant broke eye contact with Caleb and turned her face toward the sound of her mother's voice. He blinked back moisture from his eyes and grinned. "You have a beautiful daughter. — Debra Holland

This rarely happens in a visit to the pediatrician's office, but it should. The good doctor would ask you about the health of your baby and give your little bundle of joy a routine examination. Then she'd look you in the eyes and ask some truly intrusive questions about your social life. "Do you have many friends?" the pediatrician would inquire. "What social groups do you and your husband belong to? How important are these groups to you? How diverse are they? How much contact time do you and your husband have with them?" The doctor doesn't ask about these things because your social life is none of her business. The problem is, it is plenty of the infant's business. — John Medina

There are people whose eyes you must avoid, whose attention you must not draw to yourself. They are strange, parasitic creatures, lost souls seeking to stretch across the abyss and make fatal contact with the warm, constant flow of humanity. They live in pain and exist only to visit that pain on others. — John Connolly

I looked at the girl serving refreshments to the guests, with a smile on her face. She was in her teens. She had put on an orange coloured churidar, with a yellow dupatta and had a frame on her eyes,making her chubby face pretty. I felt nothing special about her. That '; wow!' factor was not there. Seconds later, I realised she stepped towards me and served me with a glass of juice and walked away. No talks, no smile, no eye to eye contact and definitely not love at first sight — Kalpa Das

But there was something different about Flynn, and it wasn't just the way he was looking at her. His grip tightened on her wrist
not painfully, but possessively. His other arm went up as he leaned against the shelving, effectively boxing her in with his body without making any further contact.
To her horror, she felt herself go warm and liquid in places she shouldn't. "Let go of me." Evie whispered.
His eyes were green. A bright mind-blowing green. And they were staring into hers intently, daring her to lean in closer, to taste those sinful lips ... — M.A. Grant

You haven't seen your father since you were eight?'
He shook his head.
'No word. No contact. No nothing?'
'Nothing.'
Daisy's eyes looked right and left before coming back to his. 'Is he alive?'
Erik turned looked into the blue-green eyes studying him so intently. He was surprised he had revealed this to someone he barely knew. Normally this was the card he kept closest to his chest. Yet something about Daisy looking at him, her expression calm and interested, sympathetic but not pitying, tactfully curious, seemed to be reaching into the tangle of emotions comprising the experience of being so cruelly deserted, and gently drawing out a thread. — Suanne Laqueur

Crowds are the most difficult thing for me these days because I have to walk with my head down and my eyes averted. There's still that part of me that wants to hold my head up, make eye contact and smile. — Cameron Diaz

The average citizen of Oceania never sets eyes on a citizen of either Eurasia or Eastasia, and he is forbidden the knowledge of foreign languages. If he were allowed contact with foreigners he would discover that they are creatures similar to himself and that most of what he has been told about them is lies — George Orwell