Stop Staring At Me Quotes & Sayings

I growl with frustration at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is fifty shades messed up. Why is it so kinky and out of control? I need to stop sleeping with it wet. As I brush my long brown hair, the girl in the mirror with the brown eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait ... my eyes are blue! It dawns on me that I've been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is fine. — Fanny Merkin

My favorite part about you though is when I catch you staring at me. I love that you don't look away and you stare unapologetically, like you aren't ashamed that you can't stop watching me. It's all you want to do because you think I'm the most amazing thing you've ever laid eyes on. I love how much you love me. — Colleen Hoover

But now he stops hammering, his back still to me when he yells, "Would you stop staring at me? — Simone Elkeles

1. I'm brilliant
2. I'm charming
3. I'm hung like a thoroughbred
4. I've stopped all philandering
5. I'm highly skilled, as you've learned the other night.
P.S. Stop staring at my hands. I know what you want me to with them. — K.A. Tucker

Parker, what are you doing?" "Making a funny face in an effort to make you stop staring at me like I murdered your beloved goldfish. — Penny Reid

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

What the hell is the matter with Eddie? Ruth was thinking. If he doesn't stop staring at me, I'm going to drive off the road!
Hannah had also noticed that Eddie was staring at Ruth. What the hell is the matter with Eddie? Hannah was thinking. Since when did the asshole take an interest in a younger woman? — John Irving

Her eyes narrowed, and then her hand snaked out again. I forced myself to stand still and let her feel me up, because seriously, she didn't appear like she was going to stop until she did. She cupped my cheek and placed her other hand below my breasts, between my rips.
"Umm ... " I was really starting to feel wigged out. "I really hope this has a point, because half the guys are staring at us like they're hoping we're going to make-out."
Aiden coughed. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

It's only just beginning to occur to me that it's important to have something going on somewhere, at work or at home, otherwise you're just clinging on. [ ... ] You need as much ballast as possible to stop you floating away; you need people around you, things going on, otherwise life is like some film where the money ran out, and there are no sets, or locations, or supporting actors, and it's just one guy on his own staring into the camera with nothing to do and nobody to speak to, and who'd believe in this character then? I've got to get more stuff, more clutter, more detail in here, because at the moment I'm in danger of falling off the edge. — Nick Hornby

Halting, she turned to face me. It was dangerous to stop going forward. Inertia is a powerful thing. The longer we stood there, her staring at me as thoughts struggled to form into words, the more likely it would be that we wouldn't move at all. And then ... the corners of her mouth sank. Her lower lip twitched. No, Hannah. Now is not the time. — N. Gemini Sasson

I need a book that says 'Here's how to defeat Spring and restore power to your king, and while you're at it, here's how to prove you matter when no one else thinks you do - "

I stop. I'm staring at the bookshelves and not at Theron, and I don't think I'll ever be able to look at him again without shriveling up from embarrassment. ... I can still hear what I said hanging around me, my weak, weak admission, and I can't bring myself to breathe, let alone face him.

Theron doesn't give me a choice. He crawls up onto his knees and moves into my line of sight, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes darting over mine like he's trying to figure me out the same way he figured out that passage. After a moment of silence, he grimaces.

"You matter," is all he says. — Sara Raasch

This is what I decided:
Chloe is gone. She is never coming back. And the way I've been acting would hurt her. For at least an hour, I switch places with her in my mind-I am dead and Chloe is alive. How would she handle it? She would cry. She would be sad. She would miss me. But she wouldn't stop living. She would let people comfort her. She would sleep in her own room and smile at the memories as she drifted to sleep. And she would probably punch Galen Forza. Which brings me to what else I decided:
Galen Forza is a jerk. The details are hazy, but I'm pretty sure he had something to do with my accident on Monday. Also, he's a bit weird. Staring habit aside, he keeps popping up everywhere. Every time he does, I handle it with the grace of a rhino on stilts. So I'm switching my schedule as soon as I get to school. There is no good reason I should humiliate myself for seven periods a day. — Anna Banks

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

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

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

Stop staring at my fucking ass. You're too young for me. — Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

I pull my foot back again, but Four's hands clamp around my arms, and he pulls me away from her with irresistible force. I breathe through gritted teeth, staring at Molly's blood-covered face, the color deep and rich and beautiful, in a way. She groans, and I hear a gurgling in her throat, watch blood trickle from her lips. "You won," Four mutters. "Stop." I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He stares at me. His eyes too wide; they look alarmed. "I think you should leave," he says. "Take a walk." I'm fine," I say. "I'm fine now," I say again, this time for myself.
I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did.
I don't. — Veronica Roth

Finally, Wulf reacted to the constant staring and head-shaking. "What are you looking at?" he demanded of one young soldier - a youth barely out of his teens. The cavalry trooper pointed to Ulf, who was a few meters away. "That man," the trooper said. "You look just like him." Wulf scowled at his brother, then at the young Arridan. "No I don't," he retorted crisply. "He looks like me." Then he added darkly, if not logically, "And he'd better stop doing it if he knows what's good for him!" Thoroughly confused, the trooper continued — John Flanagan

Cole, for Christ's sake, will you stop staring at me like I'm beefcake of the month? — Simon Holt

The next thing I knew, I was sprawled in the traffic circle, coughing and gasping as a tower of fire roared into the evening sky. My throat burned. My eyes felt like they'd been splashed with acid. I looked for Thalia and instead found myself staring at the bronze face of Medusa. I screamed, somehow found the energy to stand, and ran. I didn't stop until I was cowering behind the statue of Robert E. Lee. Yeah, I know. It sounds comical now. But it's a miracle I didn't have a heart attack or get hit by a car. Finally Thalia caught up to me, her spear back in Mace canister form, her shield reduced to a silver bracelet. — Rick Riordan

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

He won't stop staring.
"What?" I ask.
"How much do you weigh?"
"Wow. Is that how you talk to every girl you meet? That explains so much."
"I'm about one hundred seventy-five pounds," he says. "Of muscle."
I stare at him. "Would you like an award?"
"Well, well, well," he says, cocking his head, the barest hint of a smile flickering across his face. "Look who's the smart-ass now."
"I think you're rubbing off on me," I say. — Tahereh Mafi

The way he looks at me makes me ache, but it isn't fair. He hurt me first. He caused this ache from the start. This inside out, churning pain that feels mental and physical now.
I fiddle with my hands, peering up at him again, and all I can think is, God, I wish he'd stop staring at me like that. — Alex Rosa

I'm staring and I need to stop, but seeing her inhibits brain function. Girls don't know it, but standing in the presence of beauty impairs guys. At least, it impairs me. Screw it. It's Lila. Lila impairs me. — Katie McGarry

Stop staring at my dick," he growled.
Oh, yes it was definitely an illusion. "Barrons loved me staring at his dick,"I informed it. "he would have been happy if I'd stared at his dick all day long, composing odes to its perfection. — Karen Marie Moning

I made it," you said, gruffly, "for you."
You shoved it onto my finger. It was roughly carved, shaped from a lump of something colourful and cold ... a ring made entirely from a gemstone. It was beautiful. It glinted emerald greens and blood reds over my skin, and had tiny flecks of gold catching the light. I couldn't stop staring at it.
"Why?" I asked.
You didn't answer that. Instead you touched the ring gently and looked piercingly at me, unsaid questions in your eyes. — Lucy Christopher

I'm writing a book about Siamese Twins that are attached at the nose. It's called: Stop Staring at Me! — Zach Galifianakis

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

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

Stop staring at me this instant! the sorceress shouted at Geralt. She writhed like a snake in her bonds in a vain attempt to conceal her naked charms. Geralt obediently diverted his eyes. Dandelion didn't. — Andrzej Sapkowski

Lou, honey, I'll buy you a new pair of shoes if you'll stop flashing your panties at everyone sitting across the room from us. You are wearing panties, right?
I glance up and across at Stefan. His words register a moment later and my head swivels toward the other side of the room. There are a number of people staring at me. One of them is Detective Terry Shay. Or I think it is. He's not looking directly at me. He's looking up my skirt — Ronda Thompson

I was breathless, talking as fast as I could. I was afraid if I stopped talking, even for a second, I'd start sobbing again.
"Whoa, there." Fang smiled and reached up, tracing a hand down the side of my face, winding strands of my hair around his fingers. "Stop talking and let me just tell you how great it is to wake up staring at your face. Okay? — James Patterson

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

These guys were way too enabled by the false intimacy of the Internet, which allowed you to toss out come-ons you would never utter if you were staring into another person's eyes. The frightening reality of another human being, the frightening reality of our imperfect and stuttering selves. How much technology has been designed to avoid this? We're all looking for ways to be close at a distance. Alcohol bridged the gap for me, the way the Internet bridges the gap for others. But maybe everyone needs to stop trying to leap over these fucking gaps and accept how scary it is to be real and vulnerable in the world. — Sarah Hepola

My brain is telling me to stop staring at him, but for some reason I can't. It's almost ... instinct ... to keep on looking at him. — David Estes

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

I also knew you wouldn't stop your staring until you learned the cold, hard truth. So, consider yourself warned. I might not be the kind of guy that reads textbooks at the beach," he said, glancing back at my open book, "but I'm smart enough to know girls like you should stay away from guys like me. So stay away. — Nicole Williams

Take my memories of my mother, and the feelings that went with them. I do not want to know them at all. Take the ache in my throat when I think of Molly, take all the sharp-edged, bright-colored days I recall with her. Take their brilliance and leave me but the shadows of what I saw and felt. Let me recall them without cutting myself on their sharpness. Take my days and nights in Regal's dungeons. It is enough to know what was done to me. Take it to keep, and let me stop feeling my face against that stone floor, hearing the sound of my nose breaking, smelling and tasting my own blood. Take my hurt that I never knew my father, take my hours of staring up at his portrait when the great hall was empty and I could do so alone. Take my - Fitz. Stop. You give her too much, there will be nothing left of you. — Robin Hobb

I raised an eyebrow. "You know, you're really good at compliments. Actually, it's surprising that a person with charm like yours has any enemies." The words came out before I could stop them. At this rate I would never be able to ask him about Benjamin Gallow, and it didn't help that every time he looked at me I wanted to melt.
"So, you think I'm charming?" Dante countered, mocking me. "Is that why you keep staring at me?"
"Alarming, not charming. And no, I'm just curious. — Yvonne Woon

When the black thing was at its worst, when the illicit cocktails and the ten-mile runs stopped working, I would feel numb as if dead to the world. I moved unconsciously, with heavy limbs, like a zombie from a horror film. I felt a pain so fierce and persistent deep inside me, I was tempted to take the chopping knife in the kitchen and cut the black thing out I would lie on my bed staring at the ceiling thinking about that knife and using all my limited powers of self-control to stop myself from going downstairs to get it. — Alice Jamieson

Gansey stepped in then, putting his phone neatly into his pocket, fetching out his keys instead. There was still something stretched thin about his expression. He looked, in fact, like he had in the cave, his face streaked and unfamiliar. It was so strange to see him without his Richard Campbell Gansey III guise on in public that Blue couldn't stop staring at his face. No - it wasn't his face. it was the way he stood, his shoulder shrugged, chin ducked, gaze from below uncertain eyebrows.
"SHE WAS ALL RIGHT," Jesse assured him.
"My head knew that," Gansey said. "But the rest of me didn't. — Maggie Stiefvater

Yep," I said, rolling the body onto its back and staring into the horrified, bloated face, "you're a single-bagger. My kinda gal." I gave her a smile and a friendly wink. The face stared back at me with that same frozen look of terror. "Oh, stop being so dramatic," I said, "You'll be pretty again, I promise. — Alistair Cross

It doesn't even - " one word "hurt " was supposed to come out of my mouth. Instead, a string of obscenities to make a lifelong sailor proud shoot out.
"What thefuck are you doing? Shit! You don't pour it on like that, you fucking jackhole! Fuck!"
I'm seething in pain, the sting agonizing. Ashton isn't paying any heed, turning my hand this way and that to examine it closer.
"Looks clean."
"Yeah, because you just bleached the shit out of it!"
"Relax. It'll stop stinging soon. Distract yourself by staring at me while we wait for this to settle down. That's how you got yourself into this mess to begin with ... — K.A. Tucker

I never said I was funny, OK, so stop staring at me ... — Bo Burnham

And he can't stop staring at me, as if I'm some magical dick-sucking unicorn come to life. — Ruby Dixon

It is as if the moon and the trees have switched places. The sky is plunged into the heavy cloud-lidded darkness that seems to come every night, but in the valley below, the trees - or the places between the trees, it is impossible to tell the source - are fully lit, glowing. The woods are alight like an ember, bluish white and cradled by the rolling hills. It's like a beacon, I think with a chill. So this is what happens when the world goes black. The forest steals the light from the sky. Cole straightens beside me, taking ragged breaths. I cannot stop staring at the glowing trees. It is strange and magical. Almost lovely. The wind song has become simply a song, clear and articulate, as if made by an instrument instead of the air. It is all a perfect dream. — Victoria Schwab

Emily is sitting up in bed staring down at their daughter. Logan has his arm wrapped around them both, and he's holding them close, talking softly to Emily. She turns and kisses his cheek. He smiles at her, and there's so much love there that it makes me ache inside. They're all wrapped up in one another, so I leave the room much more quietly than I arrived. But outside the door I stop and think about the way they looked together. Their family is perfect. Is it safe for me to want that, too? Or is perfect something I'll just never have? — Tammy Falkner

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