I See You Staring At Me Quotes & Sayings

I locate the ladies' room. Luckily, it's empty, no one to see the vacant-eyed girl, staring in the mirror. Staring at a stranger who doesn't care if she dies. Maybe she wants to die. Who would care if I died? My face is hollow-cheeked, spiced with sores
the places where I stab at bugs. Tiny bugs, almost invisible, but irritating. Usually they come out at night, when I'm lying there, begging for sleep. I've been meaning to tell the manager that the apartment needs to be sprayed. Sprayed. Steam cleaned. Deodorized. My hair looks odd too. It used to be darker. Shinier. Prettier. Can hair lose color when you're only eighteen? What if I go all the way gray? Will Trey still love me? Will anyone? That is, if I fool them all and don't die. — Ellen Hopkins

More than once, while staring at the wall, I'd thought of Our Lady. I wanted to talk to her, to say, Where do I go from here? But when I'd seen her earlier, when August and I had first come in, she didn't look like she could be of service to anybody, bound up with all that chain around her. You want the one you're praying to at least to look capable. I dragged myself out of bed and went to see her anyway. I decided that even Mary did not need to be one hundred percent capable all the time. The only thing I wanted was for her to understand. Somebody to let out a big sigh and say, You poor thing, I know how you feel. Given a choice, I preferred someone to understand my situation, even though she was helpless to fix it, rather than the other way around. But that's just me. Right — Sue Monk Kidd

Now I see things differently. It took me some time, but I know the secret now. Freedman Town serves a good purpose
not for the people who live there, Lord knows; people stuck there by poverty, by prejudice, by laws that keep them from moving or working. Freedman Town's purpose is for the rest of the world. The world that sits, like Martha, with dark glasses on, staring from a distance, scared but safe. Create a pen like that, give people no choice but to live like animals, and then people get to point at them and say 'Will you look at those animals? That's what kind of people those people are.' And that idea drifts up and out of Freedman Town like chimney smoke, black gets to mean poor and poor to mean dangerous and all the words get murked together and become one dark idea, a cloud of smoke, the smokestack fumes drifting like filthy air across the rest of the nation. — Ben H. Winters

You are unwilling to pay that price, even knowing that the consolation prize is not only to learn every philosophy that has ever existed, but ones which have not yet been conceived? Even knowing that if you do not accept, you will soon cease to learn anything at all?"
Raimund tilted his head, still staring into my eyes, and I knew he must see the tears filling them, though I held them back from falling.
"My friend," he whispered, "do you really believe your own words, I wonder? Your pain makes me think you know that death is not the end of learning, but only the beginning. — Krisi Keley

sun caught the edge of his belt buckle, projecting a flash that shimmered across the desert plain. A shrill whistle sounded, and as I stepped to the right I caught sight of his shadow spilling a whole other set of sophisms from an entirely different angle. - I been here before, haven't I? He just sat there staring out at the plain. Son of a bitch, I thought. He's ignoring me. - Hey, I said, I'm not the dead, not a shade passing. I'm flesh and blood here. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and started writing. - You got to at least look at me, I said. After all, it is my dream. I drew closer. Close enough to see what he was writing. He had his notebook open to a blank page and three words suddenly materialized. Nope, it's mine. - Well, I'll be damned, I murmured. I — Patti Smith

Because of that, because my life ended fifty-two Thursdays ago, because ... I have nothing left to live for. God damn it, suck me, you asshole. You made me want you, always staring at me like I'm candy or something. Suck me, I want to come in your mouth, you motherfucking ... " Deacon lifted him off his body and flipped him onto his back. He landed on the hard floor, out of breath.
"Demanding little foul-mouthed whelp, aren't you? I like that, Thursday. Unbutton your jeans. Slowly. While I watch."
"Fuck you."
"Later, sweetheart. Right now I want to see your cock. Show me your cock, Thursday. — Mercy Celeste

One man came up to me at a taco stand and said, "I have no idea who you are, but I can see everyone is staring at you, so you must be somebody. I just wanted to tell you that you are not that special. You're no more special than me." I looked at him with a mouth full of food and managed to say, "Thanks. I agree," and promptly asked the waitress for a to go box. — Jewel

I bite my lip as I begin reading: She needs some sun! Her eyes are hard to see - they're too dark; her nose is thin; no cheek bones!; I think her lips are uneven; her chin is really square, and my favorite: is that a mole or a zit? Awesome. Twenty pages of these cryptic remarks sure do make a girl feel good about herself. The last page changes my sour mood completely. On it there is a sketch of my face - no, sketch is the wrong word. It's too common a word. This is more than a sketch. This is a portrait of my face. The image of the girl staring back at me is so stunning, that I actually gasp. The handwriting on the bottom of the page, which is small and elegant, holds only two words: You're perfect. — Danielle Bannister

He narrows his eyes, and I can see the cogs turning in his mind. Then he snaps entirely. "I told you, I told you not to get in over your head!" He slams a fist down on the table, looking angrier than I've ever seen him before. "And now," he breathes, staring at me with so much sorrow it makes my heart hurt, "now I must watch you drown? — Victoria Aveyard

I'll be there at ten."
"Oh," I said suprised. "For some reason I thought that this was a day thing."
"Halarious. Ten in the morning, darling."
"Can't a girl sleep in on the weekend!"
"You don't sleep. See you Sunday, and don't wear stupid shoes." Noah said, and hung up before I could reply. I stood, staring at the phone. He was so aggravating. But a nervous thrill traveled through my stomach. Me and Noah. Sunday. Just us. — Michelle Hodkin

She's contemplative; I can feel the air around her thick with her thoughts. "No," she says at last, "I want to believe you're being sincere but I know you're not. So I say no, because even if I allow myself to fantasize a little about our lives in a cabin on the beach, I still find myself being left by you. There's almost no scenario I can think of where we live happily ever after."
"There could be," I tell her and mean it at the moment. Maybe mean it for longer. Her fingers stop moving and she sighs. I open my eyes and she's staring down at me. The lights have come on around the parking lot and one of them shines directly into her face. She angelic, a neon seraphim under the brilliant skies of the spring. I can see us on our boat, eating our hand picked clams on the fire behind our place. I can see it so vividly I'm almost sure it's happened. — Jaden Wilkes

When they came to harvest my corpse
(open your mouth, close your eyes)
cut my body from the rope,
surprise, surprise:
I was still alive.
Tough luck, folks,
I know the law:
you can't execute me twice
for the same thing. How nice.
I fell to the clover, breathed it in,
and bared my teeth at them
in a filthy grin.
You can imagine how that went over.
Now I only need to look
out at them through my sky-blue eyes.
They see their own ill will
staring then in the forehead
and turn tail
Before, I was not a witch.
But now I am one. — Margaret Atwood

You let me be who I am. So many people ask me why I need to take pictures all the time. Why I'm staring at something they can't see. It's like I have to apologize for having eyes. But you've never rushed me. I'm at my best around you. You're my nova. You light me up. — Katie Kacvinsky

Luce," he said at last, his voice soft. "what do you want me to do?" He paused, waiting for my response, but I wasn't sure what he was asking, so no response came.
"Please, just tell me," he continued. "Tell me what you want me to say, and do, when it comes to Adriana or any other girl that looks my way, and I'll do it. You want me to fire a spit wad between their eyes? So be it. You want me to flip them off any time any one of them looks my way? You got it. You want me to poke my eyes out so I can't see another one of their suggestive smiles again?" he trailed on, half of his face squishing together. "Well, that would suck, but I'd do it. For you." Cradling my face in his hands again, he leaned forward so his eyes were staring into mine from half a foot away. "Just tell me, baby. What do you want me to do? — Nicole Williams

Earsling,' a harsh voice challenged me from beside the Wheatsheaf's heart. 'What rancid demon brought you here to spoil my day?' I stared. And stared. Because the last person I had ever expected to see in AEthelred's stronghold of Gleawecestre was staring at me. 'Well, earsling?' he demanded, 'what are you doing here?'
It was my father. — Bernard Cornwell

I walked towards her. Jean-Claude grabbed my arm. "Do not harm her, Anita. She is under our protection."
"I swear to you that I will not lay a finger on her tonight. I just want to tell her something."
He released my arm, slowly, like he wasn't sure it was a good idea. I stepped next to Monica, until our bodies almost touched. I whispered into her face, "If anything happens to Catherine, I will see you dead."
She smirked at me, confident in her protectors. "They will bring me back as one of them."
I felt my head shake, a little to the right, a little to the left, a slow precise movement. "I will cut out your heart." I was still smiling, I couldn'tseem to stop. "Then I will burn it and scatter the ashes in the river. Do you understand me?"
She swallowed audibly. Her health-club tan looked a little green. She nodded, staring at me like I was the bogey man.
I think she believed I'd do it. Peachy keen. I hate to waste a really good threat — Laurell K. Hamilton

Do you want me, Shea?" This time his voice was hesitant, as if for all his strength, for all his power, one word from her would bring him crashing down. He was kneeling at her feet, his beloved face - so ravaged by torment, so beautifully male, so sensually Carpathian - staring up at her. He was lost without her; it was there for her to see. Raw. Stark. His total vulnerability. For just one moment the wind seemed to cease, and the storm held itself still as if the very skies were awaiting her answer.
"You can't possibly know how much I want you, Jacques, even if you're reading my mind. — Christine Feehan

When they see the light at the end of the tunnel, some people run towards it. I, however, run from it as fast as I can because I know that it's attatched to a speeding train coming in our direction. And if I were you, staring at that light drooling and saying "Ooh, pretty," I would run as fast as my legs could carry me, because I don't plan on dying early with the rest of you fools. — Stephanie Tom

And then I'm me again, staring into Dr. Russell's room feeling dizzy and looking straight at Dr. Russell's face and also the back of his head and thinking to myself, Damn, that's a neat trick, and it seems like I just had that thought in stereo. And it hits me. I'm in two places at the same time. I smile and see the old me and the new me smile simultaneously. "I'm breaking the laws of physics," I say to Dr. Russell from two mouths. And he says, "You're in." And then he taps that goddamned PDA of his. And there's just one of me again. The other me. I can tell because I'm no longer staring at the new me anymore, I'm looking at the old me. And it stares at me like it knows something truly strange has just happened. And then the stare seems to say, I'm no longer needed. And then it closes its eyes. — John Scalzi

Alex cornered her right before she was going to make an appointment at the nurse's station to see him. "Bree, I'm going to be referring you to Carlo from now on," Alex informed her. "I think in light of recent events it would be a conflict of interest for me to continue to be your doctor." "Is that right?" Bree asked leaning her elbow on the counter and raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I wouldn't feel comfortable about it considering what you did to Carrie." "Aw, that's nice," Bree smiled sarcastically, staring up at his smug self-righteous face. "Nice to know this place has such moral upstanding doctors." "Yes, so I will be referring you to him from now on," Alex said, clenching his jaw. "Great," Bree said, fighting not to roll her eyes. "Have a good afternoon," he said curtly and turned to walk away. Don't do it. Don't do it, Bree. The evil Bree won though. "You too, Dr. Home Wrecker." Alex's step faltered but he didn't turn around. — E. Jamie

What in the seven levels of hell did my son see in this place?" Horace asks.
We're standing on the street on Thursday morning, staring up at the house, after taking inventory of the place. From here, I can see five different spots where the brick needs to be repaired and pick out where shingles are missing on the sloped roof. The porch sags, and the windows are dingy. But if I let my eyes go out of focus and ignore all that, I can kinda picture what the place might look like after a little - never mind - a lot of TLC.
"It has good bones?" I suggest.
"It's got old bones," he mutters.
I smirk. "Yeah? So do you. Doesn't mean they're all bad."
He smacks my arm, but he's grinning. "Just wait till you get to be my age, and then tell me how good old bones are. — Erica Cameron

The kid moved, and Judith dropped her lunch tray on the table and took her seat. "Would you like to swap lunches?" she asked me. "Yours looks so much better than mine."
I was holding a mashed-up tunafish sand-wich. "This?" I asked, waving it. Half the tunafish fell out of the soggy bread.
"Yum!" Judith exclaimed. "Want my pizza, Sam? Here. Take it." She slid her tray in front of me. "You bring great lunches. I wish my mum packed lunches like yours."
I could see Cory staring at me , his eyes wide with disbelief.
I really couldn't believe it, either. All Judith wanted from the world was to be exactly like me! — R.L. Stine

Tell me why, Been. Why would you trick us in the first place?"
Ben stopped pacing. Looked directly at me. "Don't you know?'
I shook my head,confused.
"To impress you, Victoria Brennan." His voice cracked. "I wanted you to think that I was special."
The words rocked me.
Oh, Ben.
"He'd started this madness ... for me?
'You were spending all that time with Jason," Ben said softly, staring at his shoes. "skipping around town with your new perfect guy. Cotillion this. fund-raiser that. I hated it. Hated him. When I finally told Rome, he said that I needed to amaze you. Said I needed to figure out a way to make you see me. — Kathy Reichs

Speaking of which," he murmured.
Hyacinth's mouth fell open as he dropped down to one
knee. "What are you doing?" she squeaked, frantically
looking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peeking
out at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.
"Someone will see," she whispered.
He seemed unconcerned. "People will say we're in
love."
"I - " Good heavens, but how did a woman argue
against that?
"Hyacinth Bridgerton," he said, taking her hand in his,
"will you marry me?"
She blinked in confusion. "I already said I would."
"Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.
They were mostly the right reasons, but not all."
"I - I - " She was stumbling on the words, choking on
the emotion.
He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear and
blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I am asking you
to marry me because I love you," he said — Julia Quinn

(Beth) "You can't leave me behind!"
"I can and I will, if I have to break your neck to keep you from following me."
"I'd like to see you try."
"No, you wouldn't." His voice was flat, unemotional, but even in the darkness she could see the faint flicker in his eyes. She looked behind her, at the crumpled body of the pot smoking soldier, his head at an odd angle, his eyes open and staring.
"Oh, God," she whispered, horrified. What had seemed a strange kind of nightmare was suddenly, terribly real. "Did you kill him?"
"No, the tooth fairy came along and took care of him. — Anne Stuart

the world." Jeffrey just shakes his head. "You don't know what it was like. You weren't there when things got really bad. That Haslett asshole kept on calling, and then Iowa, and whenever I went out, there'd be someone just staring at me. It was like I could see my words there in their heads. Crawling there on the undersides of their foreheads. It was like they thought I knew something. And they always ask me, Is it true? Is it true? Did it really happen? And then . . . What's next? What are you working on now? All of these . . . these . . . these - "" (from "The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards: A Novel (Ala Notable Books for Adults)" by Kristopher Jansma) — Kristopher Jansma

I play on my phone in public quite a lot. I pretend that I'm getting a very important message that I must attend to immediately. You will often see me in the middle of a huge crowd just staring intently at my phone because I just don't even know how I should interact with other humans. — Roxane Gay

A SINGULAR MOMENT. One that changes everyone and everything, and you can't go back. For me, it was the moment I fell in love. The moment I knew that the soul staring at me through magnificent, pain-filled blue eyes was the one I wanted to connect with mine for the rest of my life. The problem with that was, at that exact same moment, I could see his soul recognize that mine was not the one he wanted. Not ever. — Laurel Ulen Curtis

I'm not with Rob," I say quickly. "Not anymore."
"You're not?" He's staring at me so intensely I can see the stripes of gold alternating with the green in his eyes like spokes of a wheel.
I shake my head.
"That's a good thing." He's still staring at me like that, like he's the first and last person who will ever stare at me.
"Because ... " His voice trails off, and his eyes travel slowly down to my lips, and there's so much heat roaring through
my body I swear I'm going to pass out.
"Because?" I prompt him, surprised I can still speak.
"Because I'm sorry, but I can't help it, and I really need to kiss you right now. — Lauren Oliver

I want to help you,' I say to Juliet, though I know that I can't make her understand, not like this.
'Don't you get it?' She turns to me, and to my surprise I see she's crying. 'I can't be fixed, do you understand?'
I think of standing on the stairs with Kent and saying exactly the same thing. I think of his beautiful light green eyes, and the way he said, You don't need to be fixed and the warmth of his hands and the softness of his lips. I think of Juliet's mask and how maybe we all feel patched and stitched together and not quite right.
I am not afraid.
Dimly, I have the sense of roaring in my ears and voices so close and faces, white and frightened, emerging from the darkness, but I can't stop staring at Juliet as she's crying, still so beautiful.
'It's too late,' she says.
And I say, 'It's never too late. — Lauren Oliver

This place is packed," Vee complained. "Where am I supposed to park?" She steered down an alley and slowed to a stop behind a bookstore. "This looks good. Lots of parking back here."
"The sign says employee parking only."
"How are they going to know that we aren't employees? The Neon blends right in. All these cars speak low class."
"The sign says violators will be towed."
"They just say that to scare people like you and me away. It's an empty threat. Nothing to worry about."
...
Vee came to a halt. "What is THAT?"
We were standing in the parking lot behind the bookstore, a few feet from the Neon, and we were staring at a large piece of metal attached to the left rear tire.
"I think it's a car boot," I said.
"I can see that. What's it doing on my car?"
"I guess when they say all violators will be towed, they mean it. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Eden," he said, staring at their joined hands. "I built the arch to reveal my heart. Your name will forever be the focal point, uplifted by love. And if you would permit me, I'd like to build more with you - a family and a life." Levi raised his gaze to her face, surprised to see wetness glistening on her cheeks. "Eden, will you marry me? — Karen Witemeyer

A blush tinged her bronzed skin as she wrapped her arms around herself. Corrado grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away when she tried to shield herself. He stared at her, stunned to see the uncertainty in her eyes.
"You're not nervous this time, are you?" he asked, half-teasingly, half honestly wanting to know. She'd been so confident, unwavering before.
"It's the way you're looking at me."
"How am I looking at you?"
"Like you look at the Taj Mahal. Or the Sistine Chapel. You're staring at me like you stare at the Mona Lisa."
"I've never seen those things."
"It's like you've never seen something so beautiful before."
"I haven't. — J.M. Darhower

But there's more. When I was on my way to the event today, Carolyn texted me and told me that Steve and Eve got married over break. Six months after he broke up with me, and after he kept telling me he didn't see marriage in
his future! And did I tell you that he broke up with me at the school, during the Fitness Fun-a-Thon fundraising event
we worked at?" Her face grew reflective. "I was handing out bottled water when he asked me to go behind the hydration station so he could talk to me privately. The whole time, Eve kept staring at us from the finish line of the three-legged race.
She knew I was getting dumped before I did. — Linda Morris

He finally cleared his throat. "Well, huh."
"Yeah," I said. "What now?"
"Well" - he cleared his throat again - "I guess you and I go. I mean, unless you really don't want to."
Why put it on me to bail out?
"Do you want to?" I asked.
"Yeah. I really do. I had to talk Dad into giving me the afternoon off. And since I don't usually go to a lot of trouble to fix lunch, it seems a shame to waste the effort. Besides, there's the thing I want you to see."
He said all of this while staring at the door like he was talking to it. I almost expected it to respond. — Rachel Hawthorne

What would happen if I tried to escape?" I asked.
I didn't see anyone else. If I outran Loki, I could probably get away. Not that I knew where to go, and I still wouldn't be able to free Matt and Rhys.
"I would stop you," he replied simply.
"The same way Kyra did at my house?" A pain flared up in my ribs, as if reminding me of the damage she'd caused/
"No." Something dark flickered across his face for a second. He quickly erased it and smiled at me. "I would simply take you in my arms and hold you there until you swooned."
"It sounds romantic when you say it that way." I wrinkled my nose, remembering how he'd made me pass out by staring into my eyes. It hadn't been painful, but it hadn't exactly been pleasant either.
"It is when I envision it. — Amanda Hocking

Nash says you bartend, right?"
My eyes open to his. He's staring down at me, so close I can see the vague line where black pupil stops and nearly-black iris begins. Those eyes are amazing!
I see his eyebrows rise, prompting me.
"Pardon?" I ask.
"Nothing. I don't even think it matters. If you're this adorably sexy all the time, no one will care how fast you get them their drinks. — M. Leighton

I'll admit that I was staring. Suddenly my whole perspective had flipped inside out, like when you look at an inkblot picture and see just the black part. Then your brain inverts the image and you realize the white part makes an entirely different picture, even though nothing has changed. That was Alex Fierro, except in pink and green. A second ago, he had been very obviously a boy to me. Now she was very obviously a girl. — Rick Riordan

Douglas Ainslie: Look. Can you hear yourself? Can you? Do you have any idea what a terrible person you have become? All you give out is this endless negativity, a refusal to see any kind of light and joy, even when it's staring you in the face, and a desperate need to squash any sign of happiness in me or ... or ... or ... anyone else. It's a wonder that I don't fling myself at the first kind word or gesture that comes my way, but I don't, ou ... ou ... ou ... out of some sense of dried-up loyalty and respect, neither of which I ever bloody get in return.
Jean, his wife: [long pause] I checked my emails. There's one from Laura. — Deborah Moggach

Call him!" echoed Barnaby, sitting upright upon the floor, and staring vacantly at Gabriel, as he thrust his hair back from his face. "But who can make him come! He calls me, and makes me go where he will. He goes on before, and I follow. He's the master, and I'm the man. Is that the truth, Grip?" The raven gave a short, comfortable, confidential kind of croak; - a most expressive croak, which seemed to say, "You needn't let these fellows into our secrets. We understand each other. It's all right." "I make him come!" cried Barnaby, pointing to the bird. "Him, who never goes to sleep, or so much as winks! - Why, any time of night, you may see his eyes in my dark room, shining like two sparks. And every night, and all night too, he's broad awake, talking to himself, thinking what he shall do to-morrow, where we shall go, and what he shall steal, and hide, and bury. I make him come! Ha, ha, ha! — Charles Dickens

You're not her
Though I try to see you differently
I tow the line
You see, I'm searching for what used to be mine
And I saw your eyes
And I saw Alice staring back at me
So I will try to find another one who suited me as well as her — Ed Sheeran

The dhampir dorm appeared before me, about half its windows lit. It was near curfew; people were going to bed. I burst in through the doors, feeling like my heart was going to explode from the exertion. The first person I saw was Stan, and I nearly knocked him over. He caught my wrists to steady me.
"Rose, wh - "
"Strigoi," I gasped out. "There are Strigoi on campus."
He stared at me, and for the first time I'd ever seen, his mouth seriously dropped open. Then, he recovered himself, and I could immediately see what he was thinking. More ghost stories. "Rose, I don't know what you're - "
"I'm not crazy!" I screamed. Everyone in the dorm's lobby was staring at us. "They're out there! They're out there, and Dimitri is fighting them alone. You have to help him." What had Dimitri told me? What was that word? "Buria. He said to tell you buria."
And like that, Stan was gone. — Richelle Mead

Don't come, I was thinking now. Wherever you are, stay there. Because with her reduced to a fantasy, I could imagine a wonderful meeting. I could see her smiling, tossing her red-haired head, staring at me with inquisitive eyes. I'd say something meaningful to her, and she'd melt for me. Reality could not live up to that. — Scott Adlerberg

He looked up at the reddening sky and said with a self-deprecating laugh, "You put me to shame, Seraphina. Your bravery always has."
"It's not bravery; it's bullheaded bumbling."
He shook his head, staring off into the middle distance. "I know courage when I see it, and when I lack it. — Rachel Hartman

I was not staring at you," he told his plate.
I leaned over. "Did you hear that, Dingane's lunch? He was not staring at you."
He looked up at me crossly. "I was not staring at you."
"I never said you were."
"I was merely explaining that Henry was exaggerating. I did not stare at you."
"Okay," I stated, implying in my tone that he had done just that.
"I didn't. I-I wasn't."
"I believe you," I told him
"I may have looked at you a few times to make sure you were doing your job."
"Oh, I see then."
"But I certainly wasn't staring."
"We've established that you were not staring."
He breathed deeply a few times, his eyes burning into mine. "Good."
He'd definitely been staring. — Fisher Amelie

Eventually my mother suffered a complete breakdown, and the court orders were finally signed. They took her to the State Mental Hospital at Kalamazoo. My mother remained in the same hospital at Kalamazoo for about 26 years.
My last visit, when I knew I would never come to see her again-there-was in 1952. I was twenty-seven. My brother Philbert had told me that on his last visit, she had recognized him somewhat. "In spots" he said.
But she didn't recognize me at all.
She stared at me. She didn't know who I was.
Her mind, when I tried to talk, to reach her, was somewhere else. I asked, "Mama, do you know what day it is?"
She said, staring, "All the people have gone."
I can't describe how I felt. The woman who had brought me into the world, and nursed me, and advised me, and chastised me, and loved me, didn't know me.
It was as if I was trying to walk up the side of a hill of feathers."
-Malcolm X, The Autobiography of Malcolm X — Malcolm X

These human eyes seemed weak to me at first," said Eskar, still staring away from me, scratching her short black hair. "They detect fewer colors and have terrible resolution, but they see things dragon eyes cannot. They can see beyond surfaces. I don't understand how that's possible, but it happened incrementally as I traveled with Orma: I began to see the inside of him. His questioning and gentle nature. His conviction. I'd glimpse it in something as incongruous as his hand holding a teacup, or his eyes when he spoke of you. — Rachel Hartman

I'm in love with you," he said quietly.
"Augustus," I said.
"I am," he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you. — John Green

He sighs and brushes a strand of hair behind my ears. I open my eyes to see him staring at me with such tenderness it makes my heart bleed.
"This isn't going to be easy," he says. "But I want to be with you and I can't think of any other way. We can hide it from everyone for a while, if you want, but I'm not ashamed and I'm not afraid. — Karina Halle

Tell me how you could say such a thing, she said, staring down at the ground beneath her feet. You're not telling me anything I don't know already. 'Relax your body, and the rest of you will lighten up.' What's the point of saying that to me? If I relaxed my body now, I'd fall apart. I've always lived like this, and it's the only way I know how to go on living. If I relaxed for a second, I'd never find my way back. I'd go to pieces, and the pieces would be blown away. Why can't you see that? How can you talk about watching over me if you can't see that? — Haruki Murakami

I look up at the sky, wondering if I'll catch a glimpse of kindness there, but I don't. All I see are indifferent summer clouds drifting over the Pacific. And they have nothing to say to me. Clouds are always taciturn. I probably shouldn't be looking up at them. What I should be looking at is inside of me. Like staring down into a deep well. Can I see kindness there? No, all I see is my own nature. My own individual, stubborn, uncooperative often self-centered nature that still doubts itself
that, when troubles occur, tries to find something funny, or something nearly funny, about the situation. I've carried this character around like an old suitcase, down a long, dusty path. I'm not carrying it because I like it. The contents are too heavy, and it looks crummy, fraying in spots. I've carried it with me because there was nothing else I was supposed to carry. Still, I guess I have grown attached to it. As you might expect. — Haruki Murakami

Still," he added firmly, "I think you'd best drink no more of it, or ye won't get back up the stairs." He tilted the glass and deliberately drained it himself, then handed the empty goblet to Laoghaire without looking at her. "Take that back, will ye, lass," he said casually. "It's grown late; I believe I'll see Mistress Beauchamp to her chamber." And putting a hand under my elbow, he steered me toward the archway, leaving the girl staring after us with an expression that made me relieved that looks in fact cannot kill. — Diana Gabaldon

When Kai fell silent, she risked a glance at him. He was staring at her hands [which she always holds mechanic gloves over to hide her ... you know, cyborg hands] ...
"Do you ever take those off?" he asked.
"No."
Kai tilted his head, peering at her as if he could see right through to the metal plate in her head ... "I think you should go to the ball with me."
She clutched her fingers ... "Stars," she muttered. "Didn't you already asked me that?"
"I'm hoping for a more favorable answer this time and I seem to be getting more desperate by the minute."
"How charming."
Kai's lips twitched. "Please?"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"I mean, why me?"
Kai hooked his thumbs on his pockets. "So if my escape hover breaks down, I'll have someone to fix it? — Marissa Meyer

I would like to say to the men and women of the generations which will come after us: you will look back at us with astonishment. You will wonder at passionate struggles that accomplished so little, at the, to you, obvious paths to attain our ends which we did not take. At the intolerable evils before which it will seem to you we sat down passive. At the great truths staring us in the face which we failed to see, at the great truths we grasped at but could not get our fingers quite 'round. You will marvel at the labour that ended in so little. But what you will never know that it was how we were thinking of you and for you that we struggled as we did and accomplished the little that we have done. That it was in the thought of your larger realization and fuller life that we have found consolation for the futilities of our own. All I aspire to be and was not, comforts me. — Olive Schreiner

You can feel people staring: it's like heat that rise from the pavement during summer, like a poker in the small of your back. You don't have to hear a whisper, either, to know that it's about you.
I use to stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom to see what they are staring at. I wanted to know what made their heads turn, what it was about me that was so incredibly different. At first I couldn't tell. I mean, I was just me.
Then one day. When I looked in the mirror, I understood. I looked into my own eyes and I hated myself, maybe as much as all of them did.
That was the day I started to believe they might be right.
jodi picoult — Jodi Picoult

- I been here before, haven't I?
He just sat there staring out at the plain.
Son of a bitch, I thought. He's ignoring me.
- Hey, I said, I'm not the dead, not a shade in passing. I'm flesh and blood here.
He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and started writing.
- You got to at least look at me, I said. After all, it is my dream.
I drew closer. Close enough to see what he was writing. He had his notebook open to a blank page and three words suddenly materialized.
Nope, it's mine.
- Well, I'll be damned, I murmured. I shaded my eyes and stood there looking out toward what he was seeing - dust clouds flatbed tumbleweed white sky - a whole lot of nothing.
- The writer is a conductor, he drawled. — Patti Smith

Why have you been staring at me ever since we met? Because I'm not the Gail Wynand you'd heard about. You see, I love you. And love is exception-making. If you were in love you'd want to be broken, trampled, ordered, dominated, because that's the impossible, in the inconceivable for you in your relations with people. That would be the one gift, the great exception you'd want to offer the man you loved. But it wouldn't be easy for you. — Ayn Rand

Your curves are not just desired on this planet, they are preferred in a female. And everything from your hair to your waist to your tiny feet makes me want to get on my knees and kiss every inch of your body. Not just that," he said, staring at her mouth. "I can tell you have a fiery spirit, and I like that. Don't tell me the beauty I see isn't there. — Milly Taiden

You mean we won't get to run through burning buildings?" I could see he wanted to laugh, but instead he watched me intently. "What? Why are you staring at me?"
"I'm not staring. I'm observing."
I smiled through my tears. "And what do you observe?"
He brushed his lips against my ear. "A brave young woman who has always fought for what was right, even when it was unpopular. A woman who can't return to the land of her birth, but is wlcome to cross the seas and rebuild Alexandria in mine. And a woman who has suffered enough in Rome and deserves happiness for a change. Will you come to Mauretania and be my queen?"
He drew back to look at me, but I held him closer. "Yes."
"Just yes?"
I nodded and pressed my lips against his. — Michelle Moran

When I see you, the World stops. It stops and all that exists for me is you and my eyes staring at you. There's nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The World just stops, and it is a beautiful place, and there is only you. — James Frey

This date. You're really giving me a chance, right? I need for you to be open to things and not just playing along because I said I would keep chasing. I need a real chance because you've got me all messed up inside."

Staring up at Cooper, I held his gaze and forced a smile. "I like you a lot. I don't think we make any sense, but I wish we did."

"We could though," he said, taking my hand. "You're scared of all the surface stuff. The tats and the way I mouth off, but that's surface. On the inside, I know you're special. It's why I need a chance."

"I'm going on the date."

Sighing, Cooper frowned. "Because I said I would basically stalk you until you said yes."

"I don't expect anything from tonight. Good or bad. I just want to see what happens. I'm giving you a chance. — Bijou Hunter

She leaned in and hugged me. "I know. Thanks. I love you, too. And for the record, Cheyenne and Landon are soul mates and if they don't end up together, I want you to find a poltergeist to haunt the Easton Heights writers."
She pulled back, smiling at me, then reaching out to ruffle Lend's hair. "Take care of each other, you two obnoxious kids."
Then, throwing her shoulders back and staring straight forward, she walked through the gate. I watched, dreading seeing her turn into dust or something, but gasped in relief and joy as her ruined, unnaturally preserved body blossomed into something new, something strong and proud and undeniably alive.
She turned back, just once, and although she was nearly unrecognizable, I could see our Arianna in her smile that managed to maintain its trademark ironic twist.
"I'm going to miss her," I said.
"What?" Lend shouted.
"I said, I'm going to miss her!"
"I can't hear you! I'm going to miss her! — Kiersten White

My dreams were always the same I could see myself laughing . I was standing somewhere in a forest a raindrop rolled down a branch and fell on my nose . My hair was a sparkling red color and I was wearing a white flowing ball gown made from silk. I could feel him the one I loved staring at me intensely . His eyes as gold as the sun . I could hear him saying my love Fleur .. you are everything to me. His fingertips lightly shivering as he touched my face beckoning for me to come closer. I don't know what I would do if I lost you . "Are you sure you want to be with me?" My body protested as I fought for him to stay but he never did. As soon as I woke up his presence was gone. — Isabella Kruger

His expression is inscrutable. His eyes look strange with their pulsing pupils. "You're not like other girls. You're special."
Intoxicating warmth crawls over my cheeks. I'm glad at this confession. Glad that I'm as unique to him as he is to me. Back home, I only ever felt safe, protected, and revered. Even with Cassian, I never felt like he liked me for me, but rather for what I brought the pride.
Every moment with Will, I feel at risk, exposed. Danger hands close, as tangible as the heavy mists I've left behind. And I can't get enough of it. Of him. I crave his nearness still. Like a drug needed to survive, to get by each day. An addiction. A powerful, consuming thing.
"I've tried to deny it," he continues, "but it's there, staring me in the face every time I see you. If you were like other girls . . ." He laughs hoarsely. "If you were like other girls I wouldn't even be here. — Sophie Jordan

LARRY
(with increasing bitter intensity, more as if he were fighting with himself than with Hickey) I'm afraid to live, am I?
and even more afraid to die! So I sit here, with my pride drowned on the bottom of a bottle, keeping drunk so I won't see myself shaking in my britches with fright, or hear myself whining and praying: Beloved Christ, let me live a little longer at any price! If it's only for a few days more, or a few hours even, have mercy, Almighty God, and let me still clutch greedily to my yellow heart this sweet treasure, this jewel beyond price, the dirty, stinking bit of withered old flesh which is my beautiful little life! (He laughs with a sneering, vindictive self-loathing, staring inward at himself with contempt and hatred. Then abruptly he makes Hickey again the antagonist.) You think you'll make me admit that to myself? — Eugene O'Neill

Cooper grinned at me. "So, are you going to see me off at the airport? Stand in the terminal lounge, staring out the window, waiting for my plane to take off?"
I snorted. "Um, no. I was going to drop you off at the departure terminal so I didn't have to get a parking spot."
He gaped and narrowed his eyes. "When you get home, do me a favour and Google the word chivalry," he said flatly. "It's spelled c-h-i-v - "
"Shut up," I said with a laugh.
"Or even look up the definition of 'nice boyfriend'. I'm pretty sure it says 'does not drop off loved one at terminal gate' or 'does not tell boyfriend to shut up'. — N.R. Walker

Before I left Alaka, I told Vikram I didn't know myself. Now I was
staring at the depths of what that meant. Heroine. Savior. Villain. What were those words but different fistfuls of a tale that all depended on who was doing the telling? You see, a story is not just a thing told to a child before sleep. A story is control. I saw it now. Felt the talons of that truth scrape through me. — Roshani Chokshi