People Who Stare Quotes & Sayings

It was safe, with all the lights off and no one around to point and stare. In the night it's easy to indulge. It was just the two of us - we didn't have to think about who we were or what this meant or where it was going. It was like an escape. It's easy to forget at this moment billions of people exist and far-off galaxies are being born and stars collide. Kissing is its own kind of collision, it produces its own planetarium of lights inside your head. For me, it was like seeing colors for the first time after living in a black-and-white world. A single person can be just as wide and vast and spellbinding as any sky full of stars. They can make you think the world stops and night can last forever., — Katie Kacvinsky

Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn't talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony. — Bob Dylan

She averted his eyes, but not before he recognized the pain in them, a tormented and languished gaze, a stare preserved for people who were able to love deeply enough that they could be destroyed by it. For a moment, he knew that gaze intimately, remembering it from a time long gone. The ache of a shattered belief once known. He knew that feeling. — Jacqueline Simon Gunn

Matt would stare at Andrew for 10 minutes. It's depressing that people are different. Everyone should be one person, who should then kill itself in hand-to-hand combat. — Tao Lin

Cullen's eyebrows shot up. "Darius? He must be the bodyguard. I'll admit the man is good, but it won't matter how good he is. They'll get you. They'll find you and kidnap you. You don't understand - these people are dead serious." She leaned forward to stare directly into his eyes so that he would know she spoke the absolute truth. "No, Cullen, you're the one who doesn't understand. They don't understand. Darius would come for me. No one could stop him. Nothing on this earth could stop him. He is utterly relentless. He's merciless. He's as silent as the leopard and moves like the wind. They wouldn't see him, wouldn't smell him, as he sped through time or space. And he would never stop, not until he had me back and had removed any threat to me for all time. That is who they'd be dealing with. — Christine Feehan

It's interesting when you're doing signing sessions with other writers and you look at the queues at each table and you can see definite human types gathering there ... My queue is always full of, you know, wild-eyed sleazebags and people who stare at me very intensely, as if I have some particular message for them. As if I must know that they've been reading me, that this dyad or symbiosis of reader and writer has been so intense that I must somehow know about it. — Martin Amis

People who stare deserve the looks they get. — Malcolm Forbes

She'd always believed that people come in two varieties: those who look out the windshield and those who stare in the rearview mirror. She'd(Julie) always been the windshield type: gotta focus on the future, not the past, because that's the only part that's still up for grabs. Mom throws me out? Gotta get some food and find a place to live. Husband dies? Gotta keep working, or I'll end up going crazy. Got some guy stalking me? Gotta figure out a way to stop it. — Nicholas Sparks

People are worn away with striving, they hide in common habits. their concerns are herd concerns. few have the ability to stare at an old shoe for ten minutes or to think of odd things like who invented the doorknob? they become unalive because they are unable to pause undo themselves unkink unsee unlearn roll clear. listen to their untrue laughter, then walk away. — Charles Bukowski

If people want you to stop talking, or to stop dressing the way you do, or to change who you are, it's because you hurt their eyes. We've all been trained not to stare into the sun.' - Oliver — Courtney Milan

There's a good kind of crazy, Kaylee," he insisted softly, reaching out to wrap his warm hand around mine. "It's the kind that makes you think about things that make your head hurt, because not thinking about them is the coward's way out. The kind that makes you touch people who bruise your soul, just because they need to be touched. This is the kind of crazy that lets you stare out into the darkness and rage at eternity, while it stares back at you, ready to swallow you whole."
Tod leaned closer, staring into my eyes so intently I was sure he could see everything I was thinking, but too afraid to say. "I've seen you fight, Kaylee. I've seen you step into that darkness for someone else, then claw your way out, bruised, but still standing. You're that kind of crazy, and I live in that darkness. Together, we'd take crazy to a whole new level. — Rachel Vincent

Greta knows that for me there are no good parties. I'm okay with one or two people, but more than that and I turn into a naked mole rat. That's what being shy feels like. Like my skin is too thin, the light too bright. Like the best place I could possibly be is in a tunnel far under the cool, dark earth. Someone asks me a question and I stare at them, empty-faced, my brain jammed up with how hard I'm trying to find something interesting to say. And in the end, all I can do is nod or shrug, because the light of their eyes looking at me, waiting for me, is just too much to take. And then it's over and there's one more person in the world who thinks I'm a complete and total waste of space. — Carol Rifka Brunt

I can't believe you just did that! Are you crazy?"
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Why do people keep asking me that?"
He turned to stare at me, his eyes worried. "Who else keeps asking you that? Are any of them doctors? — Janette Rallison

I think I have broken the mould that actresses have to be extremely thin on screen. All those who are making my weight an issue just prove that people are jealous. These are people who have nothing to do in life except to stare at their computer screens and make comments on us. — Sonakshi Sinha

Try to think of happy things," he says, caressing my forehead. I stare at the ceiling, tears welling. What happy things? Who could be happy in a world of podiums and microphones? "There are a billion people in China who don't give a rat's ass about your speech," Ken offers sympathetically. — Susan Cain

ESAELP GNITTIPS ON
This mysterious decree would incite me to defy it and spit on the ground at once, but because the police were stationed two steps away in front of the Governor's Mansion, I'd just stare at it uneasily instead. Now I began to fear that spit would suddenly climb out of my throat and land on the ground without my even willing it. But as I knew, spitting was mostly a habit of grown-ups of the same stock as those brainless, weak-willed, insolent children who were always being punished by my teacher. Yes, we would sometimes see people spitting on the streets, or hawking up phlegm because they had no tissues, but this didn't happen often enough to merit a decree of this severity, even outside the Governor's Manson. Later on, when I read about the Chinese spitting pots and discovered how commonplace spitting was in other parts of the world, I asked myself why they'd gone to such lengths to discourage spitting in Istanbul, where it had never been popular. — Orhan Pamuk

Sometimes I get nice letters from people who know they're due to meet him (Death) soon, and hope I've got him right.
Those are the kind of letters that cause me to stare at the wall for some time. — Terry Pratchett

And all the while Stephen started at me as if I were something magical. Not the ugly way other people sometimes stare at me, like he was meeting someone in a foreign country who spoke his language when no one else could. That's how it's been between us ever since. We understand each other, even when we astound each other. — Cat Winters

Greebo turned upon Granny Weatherwax a yellow-eyed stare of self-satisfied malevolence, such as cats always reserve for people who don't like them, and purred. Greebo was possibly the only cat who could snigger in purr. — Terry Pratchett

I wish girls fell down and died of hunger in the streets, instead of creeping to their garrets and the hospitals. I should like to see their dead bodies collected together in some open place for the crowd to stare at.'
Monica gazed at her with wide eyes.
'You mean, I suppose, that people would try to reform things.'
'Who knows? Perhaps they might only congratulate each other that a few of the superfluous females had been struck off. — George Gissing

Awareness of time as flying has some advantages; it precludes boredom, for one thing. It matters little that younger people find older people boring or slow. Older people have a right to resist being rushed, to stand and stare at the fragile world that has become so unspeakably dear to them. For the lucky ones, who will not have to leave while they are still in love with life, there will come a later time when that passion too will fade, but while one is still possessed by that great tenderness, it must be yielded to. — Germaine Greer

Do you think people can change?" I ask Rick
"Yes." he answers plainly. "There are those who can."
That grabs my attention. "So you believe it's possible?"
"Miss Stella."He gives me his teacher-to-pupil stare. "Its boils down to choice. — Katie McGarry

There's only one question that matters, Ms. Lane, and it's the one you never get around to asking. People are capable of varying degrees of truth. The majority spend their entire lives fabricating an elaborate skein of lies, immersing themselves in the faith of bad faith, doing whatever it takes to feel safe. The person who truly lives has precious few moments of safety, learns to thrive in any kind of storm. It's the truth you can stare down stone-cold that makes you what you are. Weak or strong. Live or die. Prove yourself. How much truth can you take, Ms. Lane? — Karen Marie Moning

Life is terrifying. None of us have a rule book. None of us know what we're doing here. So, the easiest way to stare reality in the face and not utterly lose your shit is to believe that you have control over it. If you believe you have control, then you believe you're at the top. And if you're at the top, then people who aren't like you... well, they've got to be somewhere lower, right? Every species does this. Does it again and again and again. Doesn't matter if they do it to themselves, or another species, or someone they created. — Becky Chambers

Poor little Hilary Thorpe wasn't in church,' she observed. 'Such a nice child. I should have liked you to see her. But she's quite prostrated, poor child, so Mrs Gates tells me. And you know, the village people do stare so at anybody who's in trouble and they will want to talk and condole. They mean well, but it's a terrible ordeal. — Dorothy L. Sayers

There are people who are never content, never appeased, forever dissatisfied - who continually look to what escapes them, convincing themselves that if only they could attain that one desire outside of reach they would be happy. It seems almost pointless to give to these people because their eyes immediately shift from the gift to stare miserably at the portion held back. Their wants, demands, expectations, appetites are never satiated, thus they refuse to be happy. And you cannot make them so. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Pulling her eyes away, she figured it was best to keep such questions to herself. "You could have just, you know, asked me out instead," she offered, though she wasn't sure why.
John let out a soft chuckle. "Very true. I guess I just ... I wanted to keep you safe."
"Safe? From what?" Evangeline suddenly felt heat rush her face. Was this man just paranoid or what? "Safe from this? Or from you?"
He looked up, placing his fork down on the plate. His stare was expressionless and she suddenly regretted her brazen accusation. "Both." His reply had been simple, direct, stern. "Those people who did this to me, they'll do worse to you if they think that we're involved ... if they think that their message wasn't clear enough. — Shawn Kirsten Maravel

People who stare. I ask for a little empathy. Please don't judge. Be understanding that some places will strongly affect me. My senses are heightened and i experience lights, noise and smells differently that you might. Stimming will help me regulate myself to my environment as well as calming me. — Tina J. Richardson

What is it?" hissed Conina. "It's just the Luggage," said Rincewind wearily. "Does it belong to you?" "Not really. Sort of." "Is it dangerous?" The Luggage shuffled around to stare at her again. "There's two schools of thought about that," said Rincewind. "There's some people who say it's dangerous, and others who say it's very dangerous. What do you think?" The Luggage raised its lid a fraction. — Terry Pratchett

No, this isn't funny. She's got to realize what she's getting herself into. Our society isn't for the faint of heart. It's run by people who have no heart, soul or any other feeling other than power and total control. She can't just stare at your dreamy dimples all day with hopes that they'll make everything better, — Nicole Gulla

For once, I agree with Blake." Daemon met my shocked stare. "We can't, Kitten. Not now."
I wasn't okay with this, but I couldn't run down the hall, letting people free. We didn't plan for that and we only had a set amount of time. It sucked-sucked worse than people who pirated books, sucked more than a year for the next book in a beloved series, and sucked more than a brutal cliffhanger ending. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

On the plane leaving Tokyo I'm sitting alone in back twisting the knobs on Etch-A-Sketch and Roger is next to me singing "Over the Rainbow" straight into my ear, things changing, falling apart, fading, another year, a few more moves, a hard person who doesn't give a fuck, a boredom so monumental it humbles, arrangements so fleeting made by people you don't even know that it requires you to lose any sense of reality you might have once acquired, expectations so unreasonable you become superstitious about ever matching them. Roger offers me a joint and I take a drag and stare out the window and I relax for a moment when the lights of Tokyo, which I never realized is an island, vanish from view but this feeling only lasts a moment because Roger is telling me that other lights in other cities, in other countries, on other planets, are coming into view soon. — Bret Easton Ellis

If Parts Unknown and its many imitators have taught us anything, it's that we're living in the Golden Age of Gastrotourism. The same people who once traveled to Rome to stare at statues now go to twirl bucatini on their forks and filter balls of burrata onto their Instagram accounts. — Matt Goulding

Admit it: you live in a straitjacket called society that's chillingly adroit at forcing you to behave. You do what's expected, right? You rarely, if ever, cross that line. You play your part because you're a liar and an actor just like all those people around you are liars and actors. That's why alcohol is such a revealing drug: it removes the straitjacket. Drunks don't act. No one controls them. Suddenly they're showing who they are, what's really inside. Why do you think they make us feel so uncomfortable as we stare at them with our Oscar-worthy poise? — Dave Franklin

The lighting is dim, and he doesn't seem to notice I'm here, which is good, because I've moved from ogling the guitar to ogling him. Who wouldn't? He was one of People magazine's "50 Most Beautiful People," and it is a truth universally acknowledged that you should stare at people who've made that list. — Miranda Kenneally

Twenty-three," he said. "Mm?" She opened her dazed eyes. Thorne pulled back, looking guilty and worried, which made some of her euphoria fade away. "You once asked me how many times I'd told a girl I loved her. I've been trying to remember them all, and I'm pretty sure the answer is twenty-three." She blinked, a slow, fluttering stare. Her lips pursed in a question that took a while to form. "Including the Lunar girl who kissed you?" His brow furrowed. "Are we counting her?" "You said it, didn't you?" His gaze darted to the side. "Twenty-four." Cress gaped. Twenty-four girls. She didn't even know twenty-four people. — Marissa Meyer

He was halfway to the house, thinking to set the cabbage inside the kitchen door,when a brown blur thundered past him.
Joanna Robbins tore out of the barn astride a magnificent chestnut quarter horse. She leaned forward in the saddle,hat flopping against her back, hair streaming out behind her in a wild curly mass as she urged her mount to a full-out gallop. Unable to do anything but stare, Crockett stood dumbstruck as she raced past.
She was the most amazing horsewoman he'd ever seen. Joanna Robbins. The shy creature who claimed painting and reading were her favorite pastimes had just bolted across the yard like a seasoned jockey atop Thoroughbred. She might have inherited her mother's grace and manners, but the woman rode like her outlaw father.Maybe better. — Karen Witemeyer

What's your name?' she asked, and surprised herself. But for some reason, she wanted to know.
Dean's brother - he hadn't been just some nameless Bad Guy Number Four. This vampire wasn't, either. He had a name, a history, maybe even people who cared what happened to him.
'My name is none of your business,' he said, and continued to stare out the window, even though there was nothing but blurry brick out there.
'Can I call you None for short? — Rachel Caine

I stare down into her eyes, smoky and glistening in the light stealing through the window.

Eyes you can fall into and keep falling.

She isn't the mother of my son, she isn't my wife, we haven't made a life together, but I love her all the same, and not jsut the version of Daniela that exists in my head, in my history. I love the physical woman underneath me in this bed here and now, wherever this is, because it's the same arrangement of matter--same eyes, same voice, same smell, same taste...

It isn't married-people lovemaking that follows.

We have fumbling, groping, backseat-of-the-car, unprotected-because-who-gives-a-fuck, protons-smashing-together sex. — Blake Crouch

I think you're very brave," he whispered. "You're a fire that should burn itself out in five seconds of brilliant combustion. I know what it's like to put forth that much energy, and yet you do it night after night. And nobody - not marquesses nor guardians nor physicians, not the whole weight of society's expectations - can make you stop." She let out a sigh, a trembling sigh that had her lips brushing against his thumb. So much like a kiss. "If people want you to stop talking, or to stop dressing the way you do, or to change who you are, it's because you hurt their eyes. We've all been trained not to stare into the sun. — Courtney Milan

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

Usually, when I've met the people who are meant to be in a position of power, I've always made sure to give them a damn good soul stare - y'know, look right in their eyes, through the blackness of the pupils and into whatever conscious field exists within. Then lock the eyes on, but let them gently defocus so that the defined parameters of the visual physical go blurry and you can feel the energy behind it, the unseeable energy that isn't made of photons. Then, if your mind is quiet, you will be informed of the quality of their essence, or at least of the manifest persona that they believe themselves to be. — Russell Brand

I AM LOVE

I have rubbed shoulders with presidents, stars and queens

Though they know not my name as I have never been seen

I have touched their hearts, lips and minds

Always gentle, caring, giving and kind

I have shaped their world and changed their lives

I can turn war to peace so they put down their guns

I have fed every life with my innocent arms

I touch their lives though they don't know my name

I touch their hearts they are never the same

I come with truth, wisdom and joy

Though some people hurt me treat me like a toy

I am ever present but never seen

I visit at night just like a dream

Like an illusion, ever present but oh so rare

I am a joy to be seen with every stare

Who am I?

Love! — Jill Thrussell

I go to Topman at lunchtime and stare at these beautiful, beautiful people who work there and who are so well-dressed. And I think: 'Oh! I want to look like that! They're amazing, how well-dressed they are!' — Nicholas Haslam

The balance between the paralysing hurt of losing the people you love and the absolute glorious revelation of finding the one person that makes you happier than you've ever been. Someone who makes you so happy that you stare into your future and finally look forward to it. — Beckie Stevenson

Apples are kissing other apples. Gray cats are kissing other gray cats. Trees are kissing trees. You and I are not kissing. We work in an office together. We are both married to other people. It is okay because we only have ideas, you and I, about whether we should kiss or not. These ideas are both good and bad, probably.
At work, we do not say these words aloud but make elaborate diagrams for one another. You write these words: Kissing you would be like this, and draw a picture of two butterflies being struck by lightning. I stare at it and wonder if you may be right. I do my own drawing and write, Kissing you would be like this, and sketch a picture of a man made of ice kissing a woman who is actually a stove. We have made hundreds of these drawings. We do not actually do any work. — Joe Meno

I love IMDB. I love that people all over the country get that into it. When I was a kid, you literally had to go to the theater and stare at the poster to see who the hell was involved. — Allen Covert