Staring Into His Eyes Quotes & Sayings

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

I stood my ground, staring straight into his eyes. "You didn't do anything to me. Since when is sex so life or death to you?" -Abby Abernathy
"Since it was with you!" -Travis Maddox — Jamie McGuire

Mikhail had come striding towards us with guardian efficiency, ready to find out what task I had in mind. He came to a screeching halt when he saw Sonya get out of the car. So did she. They both stood frozen, eyes wider that seemed physically possible. I knew then that the rest of us had ceased to exist, as had all our intrigue, missions, and ... well, the world. In that moment, only the two of them existed.
Sonya gave a strangled cry and then ran forward. This jolted him awake, in time to wrap her in his arms as she threw herself against him. She started crying, and I could see tears on his face too. He brushed her back and cupped her cheeks, staring down at her and repeating over and over, "It's you ... it's you ... it's you ... "
Sonya tried to wipe her eyes, but it didn't do much good. "Mikhail -I'm sorry-I'm sorry-"
"It doesn't matter." he kissed her and pulled back only enough to look into her eyes. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters except that we're together again. — Richelle Mead

He lifted his head, staring into her eyes as if searching for something. Voice ragged, he said, "I told you I'm a possessive man, Eleri. I want to keep you, mount you, fill you, but even as I hold you like this... I am still your captive. Have mercy and tell me you'll have me. — Sandra Jones

The muscles inside the deepest, darkest part of me clench in the most delicious fashion. The pain is so sweet and sharp I want to close my eyes, but I'm hypnotized by his eyes staring fervently into mine. — E.L. James

I am staring into the hissing face of a cobra. A surprisingly pink tongue slithers in and out of a cruel mouth while an Indian man whose eyes are the blue of blindless inclines his head towards my mother and explains in Hindi that cobras make very good eating. — Libba Bray

You'll come to my grave? To tell me your problems?"
My problems?
"Yes.'
And you'll give me answers?
"I'll give you what I can. Don't I always?"
I picture his grave, on the hill, overlooking the pond, some little nine foot piece of earth where they will place him, cover him with dirt, put a stone on top. Maybe in a few weeks? Maybe in a few days? I see myself sitting there alone, arms across my knees, staring into space.
It won't be the same, I say, not being able to hear you talk.
"Ah, talk ... "
He closes his eyes and smiles.
"Tell you what. After I'm dead, you talk. And I'll listen. — Mitch Albom

Don't blame me, Pongo,' said Lord Ickenham, 'if Lady Constance takes her lorgnette to you. God bless my soul, though, you can't compare the lorgnettes of to-day with the ones I used to know as a boy. I remember walking one day in Grosvenor Square with my aunt Brenda and her pug dog Jabberwocky, and a policeman came up and said the latter ought to be wearing a muzzle. My aunt made no verbal reply. She merely whipped her lorgnette from its holster and looked at the man, who gave one choking gasp and fell back against the railings, without a mark on him but with an awful look of horror in his staring eyes, as if he had seen some dreadful sight. A doctor was sent for, and they managed to bring him round, but he was never the same again. He had to leave the Force, and eventually drifted into the grocery business. And that is how Sir Thomas Lipton got his start. — P.G. Wodehouse

A few days later, Tuesday quietly crossed our apartment as I read a book and, after a nudge against my arm, put his head on my lap. As always, I immediately checked my mental state, trying to assess what was wrong. I knew a change in my biorhythms had brought Tuesday over, because he was always monitoring me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Breathing? Okay. Pulse? Normal. Was I glazed or distracted? Was I lost in Iraq? Was a dark period descending? I didn't think so, but I knew something must be wrong, and I was starting to worry ... until I looked into Tuesday's eyes. They were staring at me softly from under those big eyebrows, and there was nothing in them but love. — Luis Carlos Montalvan

Remember this kiss," he ordered on a whisper, his eyes staring into mine.
There weren't many kisses Apollo had given me that I didn't remember.
I didn't share that.
I asked, "Why?"
"Because it is special," he answered.
"They're all special, Lo," I pointed out and watched his eyes smile even as I felt his lips do the same.
"They are, dove," he agreed. "But this one, the first I will give you knowing you return yours with love, will be the one I most treasure for the rest of my life. — Kristen Ashley

I promise you forever," I vowed to him, staring into his green eyes. "Whatever that is. Whatever I can give you. You have all of it. All of me."
"I promise you forever," he replied. "Whatever that is. Whatever I can give you. You have all of it. All of me. — Jessica Verday

I hadn't had a lot of beauty in my life but I knew, in that moment, feeling him filling me, his long fingers in my hair, his eyes staring into mine, gentle, warm, beautiful, telling me without words he really liked where he was and that was with me, that even if I had a life filled with beauty, no moment would be more beautiful than that. And that was why my arms pulled him even closer, my legs tightened around him and tears filled my eyes. — Kristen Ashley

My mum always said there's a lot of presence in a doorway," he added, staring into one of the eyes.
A chill of air trickled down her spine, she could feel the eyes upon her, drawing her in, asking questions and tormenting her very being. "Really? How so?" asked Maggie, with interest.
Brick turned his head and presented a puzzled expression. "Well, cause that's where people come in — Paul Baxter

Resting beside her, he seemed to Ildiko a living statue, carved from dark granite into a form of supple elegance and power. He was beautiful, and the tremor change in her perception of him robbed her lungs of air.
He opened both eyes suddenly, making her jump. Two shimmering gold coins stared at her unblinking. "Good evening, wife," he said in a voice raspy with the remnants of sleep. A closed-lip smile curved his mouth upward and deepened the tiny lines that fanned from the corners of his eyes. "You're staring. Do I have a fly on my nose?"
Fighting down a blush at being caught gawking at her own husband, Ildiko lightly tapped the tip of his nose with one finger. "I was trying to find a way to kill it without punching you in the face. Lucky for you, it flew away. — Grace Draven

As I am still on duty at this moment, is there anything else I can do for you?" he continues.
Images of him kissing me, disrobing me and fondling my entire body fill my mind ... I push them away, although I know my face has coloured at the thought.
"I have a few suggestions ... " I murmur quietly, staring into his smouldering blue eyes. "But I am not sure they fall into a butler's remit."
"Perhaps you'd be surprised at the lengths I'm prepared to go to in order to keep you happy, madam," he replies, winking at me. — Felicity Brandon

He shifts on his knees and leans into me until I am lying on my back. He's supporting himself above me on his one elbow and wraps his other hand around my head, pulling me in for a slow kiss. I hold his face in my hands as his lips dance across mine. When he pulls back, he takes his time staring at me, and I get lost in his clear-blue eyes for a moment before he says, "You're not gonna lose me, babe. I love you too much to let you go." - Ryan Campbell — E.K. Blair

He glanced over at Luthar, sneering down into his bowl as though it was full of piss. No respect. He glanced over at Ferro, staring yellow knives at him through narrowed eyes. No trust. He shook his head sadly. Without trust and respect the group would fall apart in a fight like walls without mortar.
Still, Logen had won over tougher audiences, in his time. Threetrees, Tul Duru, Black Dow, Harding Grim, he'd fought each one in single combat, and beaten them all. Spared each man's life, and left him bound to follow. Each one had tried their best to kill him, and with good reasons too, but in the end Logen had earned their trust, and their respect, and their friendship even. Small gestures and a lot of time, that was how he'd done it. 'Patience is the chief of virtues,' his father used to say, and 'you won't cross the mountains in a day.' Time might be against them, but there was nothing to be gained by rushing. You have to be realistic about these things. — Joe Abercrombie

You want to know what I remember," he said quietly, his fingers fiddling with his cuffs as he rolled the sleeves up to his elbow, his eyes locked on the view before them.
She nodded.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and dipped his head just slightly, glancing at the floor before lifting it and staring out at the night sky.
"I remember everything. — Lauren Layne

Staring into his eyes, she noticed a thin circle of gray around the green.
A SILVER LINING, she thought. — Rachel Harris

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

He locked the doors and windows and sat in the middle of a room afraid of going out there in the storm and rain, in the darkest night he had ever seen. All of a sudden there were knocks everywhere and the walls turned into the glass so that he could helplessly witness his fears approach him like the ghosts. He saw them crawling on the wall and climbing the roof staring into his eyes, in no time the walls disappeared and they stood around him laughing and consuming him one by one at a time. all he saw, in the end, was the ugly and scary faces of himself. — Akshay Vasu

Her dark brown eyes were staring straight at him. "Pretty teeth." She had a light Texan accent. Not as hearty as the others he'd been hearing on his ride from California. "Long."
Her right index finger was in his mouth. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't yet retracted his canines. She smiled at him. "You're pretty too." Wow, she was REALLY drunk. With a sudden surge of strength, she slammed Zach against the far alley wall. Then
she was leaning into him, "I've never seen anyone as pretty as you." Zach had been called a lot of things in his lifetime, "pretty" had never been one of them. She growled as she smiled ... uh, no ... leered at him.
She kissed him — Shelly Laurenston

Tom ran his thumb over the head, circling lightly, unable to resist leaning down to suck the tip into his mouth. Prophet inhaled sharply, threaded his fingers into Tom's hair. He closed his eyes and groaned when Tom stroked in earnest, lifting his hips off the bed in a big cat-like stretch, letting Tom take control of him again. "Think I didn't get enough?" "Think you need sleep." Prophet's eyes opened as he studied Tom's face. "You're going to put me to sleep this way." "Gonna try," Tom told him, his hand pumping Prophet's cock slowly, then faster when the man refused to tear his gaze away. He couldn't read the man's expression, not until his mouth dropped and his eyes glazed. "Yeah, like that." Prophet's voice was hoarse, body tense. His casted hand reached out to hold on to Tom's biceps, the one with the dreamcatcher. Tom caught him staring at it when he came. — S.E. Jakes

Genesis, I have to say." God shook his head to clear it before speaking again. "I have no clue what the hell is going on. Why are you telling me this stuff?" "Because I know," Genesis replied. They sat staring at each other for a few long minutes. Suddenly, his brother's eyes welled with tears and his body began to shake. "Whoa. You know what, Gen?" God frowned still at a complete lost. "I fucking know, Cashel!" Genesis yelled surging out of his seat to stand over God. Day ran into the den and God stood quickly holding his hand out to stop his partner. God had a feeling he knew what Genesis was talking about now. "Genesis, — A.E. Via

Sure enough the goldfish was swimming upside down, its boggle eyes wide and staring, its fins flapping madly at its sides. Brandon felt like the fish looked. He was anxious over how Lewis
knew he was a vet and the address of the practice he worked at.
"I don't think it has vertigo, Lewis." A professional approach was all he could think of. "Has it ever done this before?"
"He. He's not an 'it' and his name is Fluffles. I'd appreciate it if you referred to Fluffles by his name rather than a generic term demeaning him into nothing more than an object devoid of gender." Lewis cocked his head, staring unblinking. "Fluffles is a beloved pet. I demand you show him respect!"
"Ooookaaaay." Brandon pressed his lips together and released them with a loud pop. "Has Fluffles ever done this before?"
"Don't know." Lewis peered into the bag. "I've only had him forty-five minutes. — Zathyn Priest

Staring into his eyes, I could see they were no longer the color of my nightmares, but more like the color of my dreams. — Magan Vernon

I didn't want to stop him, but . . . I bit my bottom lip, feeling his fingers slide up and down my pussy, dipping and bringing out the wetness, spreading it over my clit. And then whimpered, feeling two long fingers plunge inside of me. "Shit," I moaned, squirming against his fingers. "Please stop," I pleaded. "Tyler, please." But he just added another finger, staring down and watching the pleasure of what he was doing spread across my face. "Say it again," he ordered. I blinked, opening my eyes, even though his thumb rubbing circles on my clit was driving me wild. "Tyler," I said gently. "Please stop." His mouth curled into a smile, and he stole a kiss, nipping at my bottom lip. "You — Penelope Douglas

Then Leo realized something was blocking the middle of his view. Something large and fuzzy, and so close, Leo had to cross his eyes to see it properly. It was a large, ugly face. "Holy mother!" he yelped. The face backed away and came into focus. Staring down at him was a beard man in grimy blue coveralls. His face was lumpy and covered with welts, as if he'd been stung by a million bees, or dragged across gravel. Possibly both. "Humph." the man said. "Holy father, boy. I should think ou know the difference by now. — Rick Riordan

Shouldering the duffel bag with the Marine Corps bulldog, Old Man knocked Jan's photo off the bed table. He turned to stone staring down at the photo. His face then splintered into hurt. Tears seeped into his eyes. He grappled for the nearest bedpost and slumped forward on extended arms. His shoulders jerked and head sagged a little while his heart broke. Old Man cried the mute cry of men of his generation. — Ed Lynskey

What am I to you?"
He brought his forehead to hers, staring into her, his eyes holding nothing but naked truth. "I've loved you for so long ... You're my downfall," he whispered, his words breaking, " ... and my fucking salvation. — Dianna Hardy

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

You will not find the warrior, the poet, the philosopher or the Christian by staring into his eyes as if he were your mistress: better fight beside him, read with him, argue with him, pray with him. — C.S. Lewis

His wound, showed a wonderful clean pair of heels and disappeared over the edge of the hill in half a minute. The captain, for his part, stood staring at the signboard like a bewildered man. Then he passed his hand over his eyes several times and at last turned back into the house. "Jim," says he, "rum"; and as he spoke, he reeled a little, and caught himself with one hand against the wall. "Are you hurt?" cried I. "Rum," he repeated. "I must get away from here. Rum! Rum!" I ran to fetch it, but I was quite unsteadied by — Robert Louis Stevenson

Captain Flume was obsessed with the idea that Chief White Halfoat would tiptoe up to his cot one night when he was sound asleep and slit his throat open for him from ear to ear. Captain Flume had obtained this idea from Chief White Halfoat himself, who did tiptoe up to his cot one night as he was dozing off, to hiss portentously that one night when he, Captain Flume, was sound asleep he, Chief White Halfoat, was going to slit his throat open for him from ear to ear. Captain Flume turned to ice, his eyes, flung open wide, staring directly up into Chief White Halfoat's, glinting drunkenly only inches away.
'Why?' Captain Flume managed to croak finally.
'Why not?' was Chief White Halfoat's answer. — Joseph Heller

Learn to let go or everything you have ever done will be in vain. You will let go of everything right now." He told me, staring into my blue eyes with his big golden orbs. "You are going to let go of everything in this world and let yourself become nothing. Do you understand? — Grace Fiorre

But most of all, as summer slanted to an end, he was learning to love idleness, idleness no longer as stretches of freedom reclaimed by stealth here and there from involuntary labour, surreptitious thefts to be enjoyed sitting on his heels before a flowerbed with the fork dangling from his fingers, but as a yielding up of himself to time, to a time flowing slowly like oil from horizon to horizon over the face of the world, washing over his body, circulating in his armpits and his groin, stirring his eyelids. He was neither pleased nor displeased when there was work to do; it was all the same. He could lie all afternoon with his eyes open, staring at the corrugations in the roof-iron and the tracings of rust; his mind would not wander, he would see nothing but the iron, the lines would not transform themselves into pattern or fantasy; he was himself, lying in his own house, the rust was merely rust, all that was moving was time, bearing him onward in its flow. — J.M. Coetzee

Babe." Jack lifts my chin, so he's looking into my eyes. I'm staring into his. "I want you. Like I never wanted anyone else. In my life. — J.E. Trif

Jake wasn't about to be seduced like some schoolgirl. Not by a man who went by the unlikely name of Tornado, not by anyone. He stood as firmly as he could in the mud and tore his mouth from the kiss, staring into too dark eyes. As his hands made their way into Tor's wet jeans he said, This doesn't mean I like you, you know. — Chris Owen

How much blunter can I be, Sehun? After tonight, it should be pretty obvious."

"What should be pretty obvious?"

"Don't play coy."

"Kai - "

"I want you, Sehun. How many times should I tell you that?" he cupped Sehun's cheek, staring into his eyes. "And I'd go through every bit of what I went through tonight again if it were for you. — Hyperionova

Nick looked for his coat on the rack.I snagged mine and shrugged it on without stopping.I swung open the front door of the restaurant.The frigid night wind blew snow into my eyes.
"Hayden," Nick called me.
"Close the door," hollered the couples in the booths nearest us.
I let go of the door handle, then turned to Nick in the warm room. When he just stood there,staring down at me,I walked back to him.
"On second thought,"he said, "I don't know about this."
I was not going to get dissed again.I said brightly, "Oh,don't be scared.It's easy!" I jerked his puffy parka down from the rack and held it open for him. "Try one arm at a time."
Glaring at me,he took the coat and shrugged it on. "Close the door!" shouted the couples around us as we walked outside. — Jennifer Echols

She tried to offer Ella help but was shooed back into her seat between Magnus and Irini. She watched incredulously at the amount of food these males piled onto their plates. She hadn't touched her own plate yet, her eyes jumping from Lucien to Ryder, to Aidan, to Magnus, as they scoffed large amounts of beef down. Irini giggled beside her before elbowing her to get her to stop staring and start eating.
Ella laughed, obviously having noticed and understood the reason behind Caia's wide eyes. "Don't mind them, honey. They're just animals. You'll get used to them."
Ryder choked in amusement as he took swig of water, and Aidan and Magnus joined his laughter.
Lucien merely shrugged. "What?"
This set them off again.
"Dude, we've frightened Caia with our non-existent manners," Aidan explained smiling at her.
"No, no-" she tried to protest.
Lucien frowned. "We're just eating."
"Caia's not used to eating at the watering hole. — Samantha Young

Do you love me?' I say quietly, still staring at the water.
He pauses. I turn to look at him. His eyes are soft and big and the corners of his mouth turn upward into a shy grin.
'Yeah. Yeah, I do. I was going to tell you. It's just, I've never said it to anyone, so I was ... I kept ... '
'I love you, too' I say. — Colleen Clayton

In person ... he's beyond perfection. I can't look away from him, but his beauty burns me, like staring into the sun. And now he's in my club, and he's staring at me expectantly, and I can't move. His eyes are quicksilver, a changeable hazel. He's too beautiful for words, and I'm not sure what to do. My body won't work. — Jasinda Wilder

What I'm talking about is trying to solve a riddle or crime. Emotions play no role there. They're too messy and complicated." He leaned on his elbows, staring into my eyes. "But they're good in other situations, I suppose. For instance - I've not yet figured out the formula for love or romance. Perhaps I shall learn one day soon. — Kerri Maniscalco

Gotcha!" he says, and smirks. He grabs me around my waist and pulls me up against him. "You are incorrigible, Miss Steele," he murmurs, staring down into my eyes as he weaves his fingers into my hair, holding me firmly in place. He kisses me, hard, and I cling on to his muscular arms for support. — E.L. James

I stand outside Mr. Haverstrom's door, staring at the black letters of his name stenciled on the frosted glass, listening to the murmur of voices inside. It's not that Mr. Haverstrom is a mean boss - he's a bit like Mr. Earnshaw from Wuthering Heights. Even though he doesn't get much page time, his presence is strong and consequential.

I take a breath, straighten my spine, and knock on the door firmly and decisively - the way Elizabeth Bennet would. Because she didn't give a single shit about anything. Then Mr. Haverstrom opens the door, his eyes narrow, his hair and skin pale, his face lined and grouchy - like a squished marshmallow.

On the outside, I nod and breeze into the office, but inside, I cringe and wilt. — Emma Chase

I smoke my cigarettes, staring into his eyes, it feels like we're cowboys on a dusty trail sizing each other up before we shoot each other. My gun is loaded. I don't have to check, the bullet is a dead daughter. I don't know what his bullet is. — Lisa O'Donnell

Very softly, but very swiftly, Last, the man with the grey face and the staring eyes, bolted for his life, down and away from the White House. Once in the road, free from the fields and brakes, he changed his run into a walk, and he never paused or stopped, till he came with a gulp of relief into the ugly streets of the big industrial town. He made hi way to the station at once, and found that he was an hour too soon for the London express. So, there was plenty of time for breakfast; which consisted of brandy. — Arthur Machen

Am I talking too much? He paused, staring into my eyes, genuine worry coloring his face.
I shook my head. No, I thought, I'd listen to you talk about nearly anything. You make phone calls sound like an adventure. — Kiera Cass

Dog, now Razor, gazed out from behind a dead man's face, fresh blood that wasn't his dripping into his eyes. He looked down at the corpses at his feet, the skinned skull of one staring back at him with dead eyes. Dog knelt down and plucked the orbs from their sockets, popped them in his mouth and chewed with hungry relish. — Jake Bible

Good morning, sunshine," he said, his smile quickly disappearing in the face of her murderous glance when she raised her face to look at him.

"Shut up and die, morning person. Coffee," she mumbled.

Right. Note to self. Mate was not a morning person. He poured a cup of coffee and placed it on the table near her hand along with the sweetener and cream. He watched as she poured three packets of Equal into the coffee with her forehead still on the table. He looked on in amazement as she felt around and unscrewed the cap to the cream before dousing the dark liquid. She stirred for a second before dragging the cup to her lips. After a few sips she was able to lift her head. By the time she had finished half a cup she was sitting upright. When she finished the cup, her eyes were open and she was looking around.

"You need to be a coffee commercial," Connor said, staring at his mate. — Alanea Alder

I noticed for the first time that his expression was completely changed - strangely expressionless, eyes out of focus. He seemed to be staring into a void. — Haruki Murakami

A do-over," he softly replied, rocking them back and forth. He nibbled on her lip, his free hand gripping her waist. "This is where we argued yesterday. I want a do-over so when you think of this road, this is what you'll remember. Me holding you ... you staring into my eyes ... and us kissing. — Gail McHugh

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

She clung to him, song after song, staring into his eyes they way she used to stare into mine. — Kiera Cass

I feel the boy's gaze on me, and I turn to him. He is still lying on the sand, propped on one arm, staring at me like a fisherman who has unexpectedly caught a shark in his nets.
I return his gaze with equal candor, adding him up. His stubbled jaw is strong and just slightly crooked, his copper eyes large and expressive, his lips full. A small, cheap earring hangs from his left earlobe. A handsome boy growing into a man's body, already powerfully built. Were he a prince or a renowned warrior, he would have entire harems vying for his attention. As it is, his rough beauty is hidden in his poorly cut clothing. — Jessica Khoury

There are two things in this life people cannot touch", Edward finally said,staring deep into my frightened eyes."Me and my family."

Confused by his statement I glanced up at him,"I'm neither."

"Your right", he confirmed reaching out to clasp my hand again,giving them an admant squeeze.
"You're both.Your a part of me and one day I hope you'll be apart of my family as well. — Hoodfabulous

While I was looking into Olivia's mad eyes and dreaming, my son left his game and his place by the fire. I didn't even notice as he went toward what I had thought was a bundle of rags. I didn't notice as he turned it over and drew back the blanket, lifted it carefully in his small arms.
I only noticed when he spoke.
"Look, Daddy!"
Then, too late, I turned around. I did not know what I was seeing, but even then I felt a sudden lurch of shock and dread. I felt as if I had looked away at a crucial moment and my child had fallen into the fire and been burned horribly.
I saw my son, my Alan, my darling boy, and in his arms a creature with staring, terrible black eyes. Something that had not stirred or cried out even when Olivia threw it on the floor.
"Daddy," Alan said, glowing. "It's a baby. — Sarah Rees Brennan

Moments before she planted a massive kiss right on his mouth. Call's eyes went wide. Hers were closed as she leaned into him. They stood like that for a moment. Call was aware that people were staring at them - Tamara looking shocked, and Aaron, standing near her, started to laugh. Call was pretty sure Aaron was laughing at the fact that Call, having no idea where to put his hands, was waving his arms around like a squid underwater. — Holly Black

Beau's gaze made my cheeks flush. A pleased grin touched his lips and I suddenly wanted to know how those lips would feel pressed against mine. I couldn't take my eyes off them. Even when his smile vanished I continued staring at his mouth.
"You're gonna have to stop doing that Ash," Beau whispered huskily and closed the space between us. His body was suddenly pressed against mine. I managed to shake my fascination with his lips and gaze up into his eyes. He was staring down at me with a hungry gleam I wasn't accustomed to seeing. But I liked it. I liked it a lot.
"Ash, I'm trying real hard to be good. Good isn't my thing but Sawyers important to me. Please remember I've got limits and you studying my mouth like you want a taste is pushing me dangerously close to the edge of those limits. — Abbi Glines

Now that she was ruined, broken beyond belief. He wouldn't need her anymore. She collapsed and he rolled her over, staring into her eyes. He must have liked what he saw, as a grin broke out across his face. He tenderly kissed her forehead, stroking her hair in affection once again. "Why darlin', I do believe you are my favorite. — Cassia Brightmore

Demon pox, oh demon pox
Just how is it acquired?
One must go down to the bad part of town
Until one is very tired.
Demon pox, oh demon pox, I had it all along
Not the pox, you foolish blocks,
I mean this very song
For I was right, and you were wrong!"
"Will!" Charlotte shouted over the noise, "Have you LOST YOUR MIND? CEASE THAT INFERNAL RACKET! Jem - "
Jem, rising to his feet, clapped his hands over Will's mouth. "Do you promise to be quiet?" he hissed into his friend's ear.
Will nodded, blue eyes blazing. Tessa was staring at him in amazement; they all were. She had seen Will many things - amused, bitter, condescending, angry, pitying - but never giddy before.
Jem let him go. "All right, then."
Will slid to the floor, his back against the armchair, and threw up his arms. "A demon pox on all your houses!" he announced, and yawned.
"Oh, God, weeks of pox jokes," said Jem. "We're in for it now. — Cassandra Clare

Hey, Ivashkov! Open up. " Avery argued. She kept pounding on the door and yelling, and finally, Adrian answered. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He'd drunk twice as much as Lissa last night.
"What ... ?" He blinked. "Shouldn't you guys be in class? Oh God. I didn't sleep that much, did I? "
"Let us in, " said Avery, pushing past. "We've got refugees from a fire here. " She flounced onto his couch, making herself at home while he continued staring. Lissa and Christian joined her.
"Avery sprang the fire alarm, " explained Lissa.
"Nice work, " said Adrian, collapsing into a fluffy chair. "But why'd you have to come here? Is this the only place that's not burning down? "
Avery batted her eyelashes at him. "Aren't you happy to see us? " He eyed her speculatively for a moment.
"Always happy to see you. — Richelle Mead

As the last Seelie left the hall, Roiben, self-declared King of the Unseelie Court, nearly fell into his throne. Kaye tried to smile at him, but he was not looking at her. He was staring out across the brugh with eyes the color of falling ash.
Corny had not stopped laughing. — Holly Black

Isabelle had been trained to wake up early every morning, rain or shine, and a slight hangover did nothing to prevent it from happening again. She sat up slowly and blinked down at Simon. She'd never spent and entire night in a bed with anyone else, unless you counted crawling into her parents bed when she was four and afraid of thunderstorms. She couldn't help staring at Simon as if he were some exotic species of animal. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly open, his hair in his eyes. Ordinary brown hair, ordinary brown eyes. His t-shirt was pulled up slightly. He wasn't muscular like a shadowhunter. He had a smooth flat stomach but no six-pack, and there was still a hint of softness to his face. What was it about him that fascinated her? He was plenty cute, but she had dated gorgeous faerie knights, sexy shadowhunters ...
"Isabelle," Simon said without opening his eyes. "Quit staring at me. — Cassandra Clare

Miss Manette!'
The young lady, to whom all eyes had been turned before, and were now turned again, stood up where she had sat. Her father rose with her, and kept her hand drawn through his arm.
'Miss Manette, look upon the prisoner.'
To be confronted with such pity, and such earnest youth and beauty, was far more trying to the accused than to be confronted with all the crowd. Standing, as it were, apart with her on the edge of his grave, not all the staring curiosity that looked on, could, for the moment, nerve him to remain quite still. His hurried right hand parcelled out the herbs before him into imaginary beds of flowers in a garden; and his efforts to control and steady his breathing shook the lips from which the colour rushed to his heart. The buzz of the great flies was loud again.
'Miss Manette, have you ever seen the prisoner before?'
'Yes, sir. — Charles Dickens

Love is like a game of chess. You're white. He's black. You wait for him to make a move, while staring into his handsome, melting-you-on-the-inside eyes, then realize what a dummy he is to not tell you straight out to go first. The beginning is the crush stage. You begin to realize how much you want to defeat him, or make him fall in love with you. By the time you get to the heat of the game, you both moved and are hopefully dating. If you haven't forfeit then because you don't want to be cheated on, you make another move- head on shoulder, hand holding, etc. Black makes another move-he gives you his jacket on a freezing night. By the endgame, he either realizes how stupid he was to play with you and forfeits, or he realizes how smart you are and lets you defeat him (and love you). By the time you win, you're married to him. A happily ever after game of chess. — Amrita Ramanathan

I look into his gray-blue dying eyes. We're staring at each other, showing each other our last looks, the faces we'll take with us into eternity, and I'm thinking how I wish I knew him better, how I wish we'd had a life together, wishing my father wasn't such a complete and utter goddamn mystery to me ... — Daniel Wallace

In a further effort to be helpful, I tried to pry the dentures apart. But Rajkumar had grown impatient and he snatched the tumbler from me. It was only after he had thrust his teeth into his mouth that he discovered that Uma's dentures were clamped within his. And then, as he was sitting there, staring in round-eyed befuddlement at the pink jaws that were protruding out of his own, an astonishing thing happened - Uma leaned forward and fastened her mouth on her own teeth. Their mouths clung to each other and they shut their eyes. — Amitav Ghosh

Frank Sinatra stopped his car. The light was red. Pedestrians passed quickly across his windshield but, as usual, one did not. It was a girl in her twenties. She remained at the curb staring at him. Through the corner of his left eye he could see her, and he knew, because it happens almost every day, that she was thinking, It looks like him, but is it?
Just before the light turned green, Sinatra turned toward her, looked directly into her eyes waiting for the reaction he knew would come. It came and he smiled. She smiled and he was gone. — Gay Talese

Colin moved between her legs and kneeled. His eyes flashed with his rapturous grin. "I want to take you to a place you've never been." He dipped his chin, staring at her womanhood, his face only inches from her sex.
Was he going to kiss her there? She tried to close her legs, but met with hard shoulders. "Colin. You mustn't." She could scarcely utter the words, her body so inexplicably aroused.
"Close your eyes and give into the most erotic kiss of all. — Amy Jarecki

In fact, gone are the days of having sex at all. I have resorted to jerking off alone in the bathroom after my wife's asleep. It's a sad, lonely existence when you have to take your cell phone into the shitter so you don't wake your wife when you pull up the YouPorn app and crank one out. The worst part is the SpongeBob SquarePants shower curtain in the bathroom. Do you know how difficult it is to keep an erection while SpongeBob is staring at you with his big, googly eyes and you keep hearing the song "Jellyfishin', Jellyfishin', Jellyfishin" in your head? — Tara Sivec

Our first kiss, the first touch of our heating lips, the yearning reciprocating from both sides, I was lost in everything. But I had a sudden feeling of eyes staring at our acts and unnecessary muttering. I could feel it even with my closed eyes. So far the sober girl in me resisted and my palms struggled to escape. David realized my condition and he left me be. I could see anger in his eyes for the crowd around but he stayed calm for my sake. My heart purred. 'I am lost now!'
He sat next to me and didn't bother to look at anyone around. Though, we knew many looked upon us and then they turned their faces away. He was horny. I could see his bulge behind his winter suit. I avoided looking and forced myself to gaze into his eyes instead. His pair was fixed on mine, reading mine. I gave a wide smile in an attempt to hide my lust although it was clearly written over my face. — Delicious David

It was then I knew. Staring into those eyes. Eyes that saw where no man could. I was falling for him. I take that back. I'd already fallen for him. I couldn't say when it happened or how. There at the doorway, before in the truck, at the diner, at the movie, but it didn't matter.
My heart was his. — Adrienne Wilder

You've got to be fucking kidding me!" The words are out of my mouth before I can put my brain into gear.

He must have felt the pain from five pairs of eyes burning straight into the side of his head. Red hot, radioactive beams buzzing onto his temple as he quickly turns his attention to the group of people staring at him. Then his eyes fall on me. Yet again, I melt on the spot at the chocolate pools looking at me. — A.J. Walters

I look into his eyes and jump ... off of a high dive plunging deep into the pools of green staring back at me. No matter how hard I fought it, no matter how unreasonable or out of control it feels and no matter how much I try to reason it away the truth in this moment ... is that Jonathan Hayes owns me heart and soul. — Kathryn Perez

Erland turned his eyes to the window and the figure that stood before it with arms crossed, staring into the anamorphic slurry of colors caught together in the burying of the sun as night fell like a jar of blue-black paint. — Luke Taylor

When I was a med student, the first patient I met with this sort of problem was a sixty-two-year-old man with a brain tumor. We strolled into his room on morning rounds, and the resident asked him, "Mr. Michaels, how are you feeling today?" "Four six one eight nineteen!" he replied, somewhat affably. The tumor had interrupted his speech circuitry, so he could speak only in streams of numbers, but he still had prosody, he could still emote: smile, scowl, sigh. He recited another series of numbers, this time with urgency. There was something he wanted to tell us, but the digits could communicate nothing other than his fear and fury. The team prepared to leave the room; for some reason, I lingered. "Fourteen one two eight," he pleaded with me, holding my hand. "Fourteen one two eight." "I'm sorry." "Fourteen one two eight," he said mournfully, staring into my eyes. And then I left to catch up to the team. He died a few months later, buried with whatever message he had for the world. — Paul Kalanithi

And then one day he realised that of course he was always staring at his hand when he wrote, was always watching the pen as it moved along, gripped by his fingers, his fingers floating there in front of his eyes just above the words, above that single white sheet, just above these words i'm writing now, his fingers between him and all that, like another person, a third person, when all along you thot it was just the two of you talking and he suddenly realized it was the three of them, handling it on from one to the other, his hand translating itself, his words slipping thru his fingers into the written world. You. — B.P. Nichol

He walked away from me, and I swallowed, trying to keep the tears at bay. Travis stopped and came back, leaning into my face. "That's why you said I wouldn't miss you after today! You knew I'd find out about you and Parker, and you thought I'd just ... what? Get over you? Do you not trust me, or am I just not good enough? Tell me, damn it! Tell me what the fuck I did to you to make you do this!"
I stood my ground, staring straight into his eyes. "You didn't do anything to me. Since when is sex so life or death to you?"
"Since it was with you! — Jamie McGuire

And Edward was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustation even more distinct now in his black eyes.
I stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with probing intensity into my eyes. There was no question of me looking away. My hands started to shake.
"Mr. Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I haden't heard.
"The Krebs Circle," Edward answered, seeming relucant as he turned to look at Mr. Banner.
I looked down at my book as soon as his eyes released me, trying to find my place. Cowardly as ever, I shifted my hair over my right shoulder to hide my face. I couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me - just because he'd happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. I couldn't allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy. — Stephenie Meyer

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

I leaned forward, but Todd lifted a hand to stop me. "There's one more thing I've been meaning to tell you all day."
"What is it?" I asked impatiently, not able to keep from staring at his mouth.
He took his time, drawing in a slow inhale and then letting it out just as slowly. "You," he finally whispered, running a finger across my chin, "absolutely take my breath away."
It was right then that I knew, down to my curling toes and thumping heart, that I had made the correct decision, maybe the most correct decision ever to be made in the history of decision-making. I reached for him, torn between wanting to stare into his incredible green eyes and an almost painful desire to kiss him.
Naturally, we kissed. And kissed. — Ophelia London

He was so close his breath touched my cheek. Staring into his eyes, I could almost forget about the nightmare. I could almost forget about Mama. Like the woods back in Virginia, his eyes changed color with his mood - greener when he laughed and darker, like now, when he was angry or worried. They were kind, serious, intelligent eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled. — Katherine Fleet

It would take little effort for her to hurt him right now. She could hurt him badly.
But Griffin King could hurt her, as well, and he hadn't. Instead of using force or violence against her, he used patience and understanding. She had no defense against that.
When he let her go, she was shaking. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to her mother who stood staring at her in horror.
"My sweet little girl," her mother whispered. "I didn't know. I would never ... " Her words faded into a choked sob. Finley crossed the short distance between them on quivering legs and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman. She didn't care if Griffin or his nasty aunt saw her tears. If anything was worth crying over, the discovery that her father had made her a monster had to be one. — Kady Cross

I chanced a shy look at Sam, and found he was already staring at me. When our eyes met, we both blushed but didn't look away. His curiosity, his energy, his wonder for the world had reawakened the part of me I was so sure I'd lost.
"What now?" he asked.
I smiled. "Next stop the pyramids?"
He grinned, and impulsively I lifted my chin and kissed him. For a moment, the warmth of that kiss drove away the pain and the horrors of the last few days. I leaned into him as much as my bandages allowed, until at last I pulled my lips away and rested my forehead against his.
"The pyramids, the North Pole, the moon," Sam replied, his voice a bit hoarse. "Next stop anywhere, as long as you're there. — Jessica Khoury

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

Once more he became silent, staring before him with sombre eyes. Following his gaze, I saw that he was looking at an enlarged photograph of my Uncle Tom in some sort of Masonic uniform which stood on the mantlepiece. I've tried to reason with Aunt Dahlia about this photograph for years, placing before her two alternative suggestions: (a) To burn the beastly thing; or (b) if she must preserve it, to shove me in another room when I come to stay. But she declines to accede. She says it's good for me. A useful discipline, she maintains, teaching me that there is a darker side to life and that we were not put into this world for pleasure only. — P.G. Wodehouse

I don't know what you may have seen fit to tell her, Venetia, but so far as I understand it you could think of nothing better to do than to beguile her with some farrago about wishing Damerel to strew rose-leaves for you to walk on!"
Damerel, who had resumed his seat, had been staring moodily into the fire, but at these words he looked up quickly. "Rose-leaves?" His eyes went to Venetia's face, wickedly quizzing her. "But my dear girl, at this season?"
"Be quiet, you wretch!" she said, blushing. — Georgette Heyer

Vadim swallowed, felt his throat too tight to move, then, still staring at the bottle, smelling the desert and Dan, and himself, his hand reached to his side, opened the holster of the pistol. Took out the mag, took the bullet from the chamber, clicked the mag in place again, rolled the bullet between his fingers.
He looked at Dan, sideways, saw the man stare at him, all eyes, dark eyes, and the way the pale desert moon made his face a place of shadows.
He reached for Dan's hand, opened the fingers and placed the bullet into the palm.
"This is the bullet you'll use to kill me if I walk away again." Because if I walk away again, I'll be in so much pain I'm better off dead anyway. — Aleksandr Voinov

Henry keeps dealing. When all the cards have been separated, I pick up my stack and shuffle my cards again. Then I look up into Henry's eyes, and he's staring back at me, at my tears, and I see all these tiny wrinkles around his eyes-sadness wrinkles. He frowns, biting his lip. — Miranda Kenneally

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

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

I am staring into eyes so dark and compelling that I feel as if I could easily lose myself within them. He moves me slightly away from his body but doesn't let go. Energy, just like in the forest a few nights ago, ebbs and flows betwen us. — Jennifer Sucevic

Let's put our weapons down, okay?" He raises his hands to show he's unarmed. His hands are big enough to encircle my ankles. I swallow.

To hide my awkwardness, I mime taking a gun out of my pocket and toss it aside. He reaches into an imaginary shoulder holsters and takes out a gun, putting it on his planner. I unsheathe an invisible knife from my thigh.

"All of them." I indicate under the desk. He reaches down to his ankle and pretends to take a handgun out of an ankle holster.

"That's better." I sink into my chair and close my eyes.

"You're deeply weird, Shortcake." His voice is not unkind. I force my eyes open and the Staring Game almost kills me. His eyes are the blue of a peacock's chest. Everything is changing. — Sally Thorne

Again the water rose, they both took a breath; again they were submerged and his leg hooked over something, an old pipe, unmoving. The next time, they both reached their heads high as the water rushed back, another breath taken. He heard Mrs. Kitteridge yelling from above. He couldn't hear the words, but he understood that help was coming. He had only to keep Patty from falling away, and as they went again beneath the swirling, sucking water, he strengthened his grip on her arm to let her known: He would not let her go. Even though, staring into her open eyes in the swirling salt-filled water, with sun flashing through each wave, he thought he would like this moment to be forever: the dark-haired woman on shore calling for their safety, the girl who had once jumped rope like a queen, now holding him with a fierceness that matched the power of the ocean - oh, insane, ludicrous, unknowable world! Look how she wanted to live, look she wanted to hold on. — Elizabeth Strout

What are you, the boogey man?"

Strike three- her joke sucked. His eyes darkened, and he moved so close his shaggy bangs tickled her brow. She swallowed hard, staring up into his dangerously arctic eyes, drowning in the darkness reflected behind them.

"Yeah. Somethin' like that. — Amy Cook

What if I don't want to be friends with you?" he challenged, grinning again, staring directly into my eyes. Obviously taking me seriously was an impossibility for Evan.
Despite not being able to breathe, I connected with his taunting gaze and refused to look away. "Then we won't be friends," I said flatly.
"What if I want to be more than friends? — Rebecca Donovan

Thus, his ambition led him not to relieve his patients' madness, but to exasperate it - to let it breathe with a life of its own. And this he did in certain ways that wholly eradicated what human attributes remained in these people. But sometimes that peculiar magic he saw in their eyes would seem to fade, and then he would institute his 'proper treatment,' which consisted of putting them through a battery of hellish ordeals intended to loosen their attachment to the world of humanity and to project them further into the realm of the 'silent, staring universe' where the insanity of the infinite might work a rather paradoxical cure. The result was something as pathetic as a puppet and as exalted as the stars, something at once dead and never dying, a thing utterly without destiny and thus imperishable, forever consigned to that abysmal vacuity which is the essence of all that is immortal. — Thomas Ligotti

I hear Warner laugh.
I see him smile.
It's the kind of smile that transforms him into someone else entirely, the kind of smile that puts stars in his eyes and a dazzle on his lips and I realize I've never seen him like this before. I've never seen his teeth
so straight, so white, nothing less than perfect. A flawless, flawless exterior for a boy with a black, black heart. It's hard to believe there's blood on the hands of the person I'm staring at. He looks soft and vulnerable
so human. His eyes are squinting from all his grinning and his cheeks are pink form the cold.
He has dimples.
He's easily the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
And I wish I'd never seen it. — Tahereh Mafi