Gaze And Glance Quotes & Sayings

He was a man of between sixty and seventy. From a little distance he had the bland aspect of a philanthropist. His slightly bald head, his domed forehead, the smiling mouth that displayed a very white set of false teeth, all seemed to speak of a benevolent personality. Only the eyes belied this assumption. They were small, deep set and crafty. Not only that. As the man, making some remark to his young companion, glanced across the room, his gaze stopped on Poirot for a moment, and just for that second there was a strange malevolence, and unnatural tensity in the glance. Then — Agatha Christie

At this, the duke stopped mid-step and nearly choked with laughter. "Beg your pardon, Sheffield." He cast a speaking glance at his sister then turned his merry gaze back to Benedict. "Did you try to get your way?"
Benedict lifted a shoulder with a self-deprecating smile.
The duke clapped him on the shoulder, unabashed. "You'll learn soon enough."
Benedict gazed down at Lady Amelia. "I believe I already have. — Erica Ridley

Iain's gaze went back and forth between Gillian and Brodick. "Father Laggan's back," he remarked.
"And there's another, younger priest named Stevens with him."
"Why are you telling me this?" Brodick asked.
"I just wanted you to know there are two priests available," Iain explained with a meaningful glance at
Gillian. — Julie Garwood

Glance at the sun. See the moon and stars. Gaze at the beauty of the green earth. Now think. — Hildegard Of Bingen

No jewels, save my eyes, do I own, but I have a rose which is even softer than my rosy lips. And a quiet youth said: 'There is nothing softer than your heart.' And I lowered my gaze ...
I wrote back telling Liza that her poems were bad and she ought to stop composing. Sometime later I saw her in another cafe, sitting at a long table, abloom and ablaze among a dozen young Russian poets. She kept her sapphire glance on me with a mocking and mysterious persistence. — Vladimir Nabokov

Juliette"
I inhale too quickly. A stifled cough is balloning in my throat.
His glassy green eyes glint in my direction.
"Are you not hungry?"
"No, thank you."
He licks his bottom lip into a smile.
"Don't confuse stupidity for bravery, love. I know you haven't eaten anything in days."
Something in my patioence snaps. "I'd rather die than eat your food and listen to you call me love," I tell him.
Adam drops his fork. Warner spares him a swift glance and when he looks at my way again his eyes have hardened. He holds my gaze fo a few infinitely long seconds before he pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket. He fires. — Tahereh Mafi

A bit more than that, I expect." For the first time, the young man took his eyes off Roger, shifting his glance to one side. Following the direction of his gaze, Roger felt a jolt like an electric shock. He hadn't seen the man at the edge of the clearing, though he must have been there all the time, standing motionless. He wore a faded hunting kilt whose browns and greens blended into the grass and brush, as his flaming hair blended with the brilliant leaves. He looked as if he'd grown out of the forest. Beyond — Diana Gabaldon

I glance at Jayden - he turns his head to meet my gaze. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't smile or reassure me. He just looks at me and then looks away. — Dannielle Wicks

I can't believe he sent me flowers."
A rude noise escaped from somewhere deep in Aidan's throat. "I just saved your life. What are roses compared to that?" He was glaring at the long-stemmed flowers, his golden gaze intent and menacing. Alexandria glanced up at him, saw the dark, determined set of his mouth, and burst out laughing. She spun around and went up on her toes to cover his eyes with her palm. "Don't you dare. If my roses wither, I'll know exactly who's responsible. I mean it, Aidan. You leave my flowers alone. You can probably destroy the entire bouquet with one ferocious glance."
Her body was soft against his, her laughter warm against his throat. His arm circled her small waist, locking her to him. "I was only going to make them droop a little. Nothing too dramatic. — Christine Feehan

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 Con and Sin approached the Harrowgate, it flashed and a tank of a blood-bay stallion leaped out, scattering staff and patients. Atop the horse sat a massive male in hard leather armor. His hair was short, reddish brown, and his eyes were black as Sin's.
"What the hell are you doing?" Eidolon shouted, but the big male swiveled his head and focused his gaze on Sin with such intensity that Con stiffened.
"Why is he looking at you like that?"
"I ... ah ... " She slid him a timid glance. "I sort of slept with him once."
Con took a deep breath and tried to rein in his desire to rip out the horse guy's throat. "Where'd you find him? — Larissa Ione

His gaze slid over me like a veil of fire. He could ignite my deepest desires with a single glance. I decided right then and there no more reading romance novels by candelight. — Darynda Jones

Hi.What are you doing here?"
He frowned. "Damned if I know."
Unable to suppress her smile she said, "The usual excuse is that you happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to drop by."
"Now why didn't I think of that?" Nick mocked dryly. "Well,are you going to invite me in?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. "Should I?"
His gaze traveled down the entire length of her body, lifted to her lips and finally her eyes. "I wouldn't if I were you."
Breathless from his frankly sensual glance, Lauren was nevertheless determined to abide by her decision to avoid all personal involvement with him. And judging from the way he had just looked at her, his reason for being here was very, very personal. Reluctantly she made her decision. "In that case,I'll follow your advice. Goodbye,Nick," she said, starting to close the door. "And thank you for stopping by. — Judith McNaught

tall scarlet drinks. "Steller Cherry Soda, Mr. Steller." "Thank you," Jonathan smiled in gratitude. "And for you," the tiny woman's gaze raked up and down Emma's figure. "A diet cherry soda." Emma flashed a glance at Jonathan, who was smirking at the slight. The two sat down in front of a small stage. Soon a model slinked out and showed off a suit sparkling with metal threads. — Therese Stenzel

A glance would not be enough to tell you this was the daughter of Katherine Raquel Demure. Even a lingering gaze would not suffice. No. Only careful study of the original and a comparative inspection of her only child would even hint at a relation between the two. Viktor could see it and knew, beyond doubt, that Henrietta not only saw it but was also vexed by it on a daily basis. — Gwenn Wright

Coming forward with a placating smile, Win handed him a piece of paper. "Of course we would never want to force you into a loveless marriage, dear. But we have put together a list of prospective brides, all of them lovely girls. Won't you take a glance and see if any of them appeals to you?"
Deciding to humor her, Leo looked down at the list. "Marietta Newbury?"
"Yes," Amelia said. "What's wrong with her?"
"I don't like her teeth."
"What about Isabella Charrington?"
"I don't like her mother."
"Lady Blossom Tremaine?"
"I don't like her name."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Leo, that's not her fault."
"I don't care. I can't have a wife named Blossom. Every night I would feel as if I were calling in one of the cows." Leo lifted his gaze heavenward. "I might as well marry the first woman off the street. Why, I'd be better off with Marks."
Everyone was silent. — Lisa Kleypas

You think I read your thoughts, but it's your eyes that speak to me. When they glisten with moisture, I see a depth of emotion stirring behind them. One tearful glance begs me for a reassuring embrace. When your gaze glazes over like a misty morning, I know I've lost you to personal cares. A sharp, narrow look will keep me at bay while a wink and twinkle and the flirty flutter of your dark eyelashes invite my company. The strength and duration of a stare gives your feelings towards me away. And when those wary eyes dart to avoid my notice, all of your hidden secrets are betrayed. — Richelle E. Goodrich

"Do you know," his gaze speared her where she stood, "that since I have loved you, I have not regretted one word, one glance, one touch? And I am so certain in loving you, so sure of it, of us, that I cannot conceive that you regret any of these things, either."

He gave a humorless laugh. "Loving you has made me a monster of egotism, my dear. But there it is. I am fearless of misstep, unable to conceive that I could err so gravely that you would turn from me." His voice strained with his need to convince her. But she needed no convincing. She knew he loved her.

"I could never turn from you" she breathed. — Connie Brockway

Weeks went by, then months. I am speaking of a far-away time - a vanished happiness. It fell to me to befriend, to console with whatever words I could find, one who had been the fairy, the princess, the mysterious love-dream of our adolescence - and it fell to me because my companion had fled. Of that period ... what can I say? I've kept a single image of that time, and it is already fading: the image of a lovely face grown thin and of two eyes whose lids slowly droop as they glance at me, as if her gaze was unable to dwell on anything but an inner world. — Alain-Fournier

Her first glance at me would be bound to hold the question: have you forgiven me? And perhaps that still more critical question: will you bear with my love, and can you return it? That first moment when she would gaze up with a blush, a look of controlled and yet uncontrollable impatience, might be at once the most hazardous and decisive. — Stefan Zweig

Glance at the sun. See the moon and the stars.
Gaze at the beauty of earth's greenings.
Now, think.
What delight God gives to humankind
with all these things .
All nature is at the disposal of humankind.
We are to work with it. For
without we cannot survive. — Hildegard Of Bingen

Immediately a large striped cat with no tail sauntered inside the office and surveyed the visitors with a speculative gaze. "Chopper," Cannon said in a warning tone that would have caused any other creature to slink into the nearest corner.
Instead, Chopper flicked him a rebellious glance and jumped straight into Victoria's lap. Automatically Victoria handed her half-filled mug to Grant as the cat settled into a massive furry heap over her thighs.
Muttering an apology, Cannon began to remove the creature, but Victoria shook her head with a smile. "It's all right," she said. "I like animals."
Cannon's eyes glimmered with an answering smile. "Well, now you've met the real head of Bow Street," he remarked, indicating the smug feline, and returned to his chair. — Lisa Kleypas

He's not even singing," Tobin whispers to Daphne. They sit on the other side of the half circle of chairs in the music room. It's amusing that he thinks I don't know what he's saying. I can't actually hear their words over the singing, but I have spent the weekend mastering the art of lipreading. What isn't amusing, however, is that Tobin has caught on to the fact that I'm merely moving my own lips along with the rest of the choir. Daphne looks up at me. I stare down at the songbook in my hands. Maybe I should try singing along, but I don't know how to make my voice do what hers does, even if I want to. I feel her gaze leave me and I glance back at her.
"Maybe he's just intimidated," Daphne says. "It's his first day in the program."
My hands grow hot at the idea that she thinks I am afraid. I take a deep breath, tempering myself before I set the songbook on fire. — Bree Despain

Where are you now? What roads are you treading? We have so many new roads now, right across the steppe all the way to the Altai and Siberia. Many brave souls are toiling there. Perhaps you're among them? You left, my Jamilia, across the wide steppe without a backward glance. Perhaps you are weary, perhaps you have lost faith in your self? Just lean on Daniyar's shoulder. Have him sing to you his song of love, of life, of the earth. May the steppe come alive and blossom in all its glory. May you recall that August night. Keep on, Jamilia, have no regrets; you've found your hard-sought happiness.
When I gaze at them long enough I can hear Daniyar's voice. He is calling to me, too, to take the highroad, which means it is time for me to get ready. I shall cross the steppe back to my village and find fresh colours there.
May Daniyar's song resound and may Jamilia's heart beat with every stroke of my brush. — Chingiz Aitmatov

Tori chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye to the man at her side. His attention appeared riveted to the road in front of them. Good. He probably didn't even notice. His head suddenly swiveled her way as if he sensed her gaze. He winked at her. Winked! "I gotta say your stamina is impressive." His voice held a warm, teasing lilt. "I didn't think you'd make it past Mrs. Cooper's chicken farm with that iron-poker spine, and here you lasted three times as long." Tori stiffened, then realized the irony of the action and settled for pursing her lips instead. "I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about." Mr. Porter chuckled. "And here I'd always thought you the honest type." Tori — Karen Witemeyer

I'm not ashamed of wanting you. And yes, I've missed touching you, and holding you, and I want that again. But that isn't all I've missed about you since you left town." He placed his palms on the sides of her face, bringing her gaze back to his. "I've missed the way you glance around when you think your karma is going to zap you. I miss watching you walk and the way you push your hair behind your ears. I miss the sound of your voice, and that you try to be a vegetarian and can't. I miss that you believe you're a pacifist even as you shock me on the arm. I've missed everything about you, Gabrielle. — Rachel Gibson

Living on the Plains"

That winter when this thought came-how the river
held still every midnight and flowed
backward a minute-we studied algebra
late in our room fixed up in the barn,
and I would feel the curved relation,
the rafters upside down, and the cows in their life
holding the earth round and ready
to meet itself again when morning came.

At breakfast while my mother stirred the cereal
she said, "You're studying too hard,"
and I would include her face and hands in my glance
and then look past my father's gaze as
he told again our great race through the stars
and how the world can't keep up with our dreams. — William Stafford

He gave a little chuckle, but his eyes stayed wary and he did another glance around at all the men. His gaze came back to me and he showed me those suspicious cop eyes that said clearly I was full of shit and he didn't believe me. Didn't believe what, you might ask? He was a ten-year-plus veteran police officer; he didn't believe a damn thing that anyone told him. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Jesus! We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs. Who's the brains of this outfit, anyway?"
"I think that was Shaw," Carl said wryly as his mind landed on an idea. "Before he went mad' that is. Now I suppose it's you, God help us. "
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shawn asked in a hurt voice. "I've not gone mad!"
"Uh huh. What's the plan, Dixie?" Carl asked as he spared Shawn a glance before turning his gaze back on Remy. Remy blinked at him.
"You can't put him in charge," Shawn protested. "We'll be in the shit and he'll stop to get an ice cream, for fuck's sake!"
"What's wrong with ice cream?" Remy asked in an insulted voice.
"I think you missed the point of the comment," Thiago muttered as he sat down in the kitchen besid Nikolaus. — Abigail Roux

We are never far from the lilt and swirl of living water. Whether to fish or swim or paddle, of only to stand and gaze, to glance as we cross a bridge, all of us are drawn to rivers, all of us happily submit to their spell. We need their familiar mystery. We need their fluent lives interflowing with our own. — John Daniel

I know not whether, in the eyes of the world, a brilliant death is not preferred to an obscure life of rectitude. Most men are remembered as they died, and not as they lived. We gaze with admiration upon the glories of the setting sun, yet scarcely bestow a passing glance upon its noonday splendor. — Davy Crockett

Clay nudged my leg with his surprisingly warm and dry nose, and I glanced down. He stared at me a moment then shifted his gaze to Scott, who was moving his drink for the waitress. Clay returned his glance to me and pulled his lips back in a silent snarl. Without the growl, it looked more like a scary, crazy wolf smile, but I got his meaning. Scott was getting on Clay's nerves, and Clay wouldn't put up with too much more. Peter — Melissa Haag

She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those blue patches of sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought. — Kate Chopin

Thoroughly ruffled, Rachel turned her back on the source of her annoyance and started for the door. She could feel his gaze on her, and the notion that he was watching her made her suddenly self-conscious. In her teetering heels, she could not help but sway.
Just as she reached the door, he made an odd sound that caused her to glance back at him, startled.
"Rachel," he said in what was scarcely more than a husky whisper, while his eyes drilled into hers, "don't sleep with him. Sleep with me instead."
Her breath caught for a moment as the words coiled around her like a seductive snake. Only by forcing herself to keep walking was she able to escape. — Karen Robards

What's happening?" he asked.
The Marquis spared him a glance, and then returned his gaze to the action in front of them. "You," he said, "are out of your depth, in deep shit, and, I would imagine, a few hours away from an untimely and undoubtedly messy end. We on the other hand are auditioning bodyguards. — Neil Gaiman

But from morning to night Anne was with the king, as close to his side as a newly wed bride, as a chief counselor, as a best friend. She would return to our chamber only to change her gown or lie on the bed and snatch a rest while he was at Mass, or when he wanted to ride out with his gentlemen. Then she would lie in silence, like one who has dropped dead of exhaustion. Her gaze would be blank on the canopy of the bed, her eyes wide open, seeing nothing. She would breathe slowly and steadily as if she were sick. She would not speak at all. When she was in this state I learned to leave her alone. She had to find some way to rest from the unending public performance. She had to be unstoppably charming, not just to the king but to everyone who might glance in her direction. One moment of looking less than radiant and a rumor storm would swirl around the court and engulf her, and engulf us all with her. When — Philippa Gregory

And she leaves. She opens the door and, without a backward glance, goes out and shuts the door. I stand at the window and watch her go. She vanishes in the shadow of a building. Hands resting on the sill, I gaze for the longest time at where she disappeared. Maybe she forgot something she wanted to say and will come back. But she never does. All that's left is an absence that's like a hollow space. — Haruki Murakami