Those Stares Quotes & Sayings

When I do scenes with Alec Baldwin, he just stares at my boobs. That's how good of an actor he is, he finds a way. — Jane Krakowski

The principle of [divine] purpose ... stares the biologist in the face wherever he looks ... The probability for such an event as the origin of DNA molecules to have occurred by sheer chance is just too small to be seriously considered. — Ernst Boris Chain

Giffen's large hand is cupping my chin as he kneels in front of my jump seat. "Kricket," he says while shaking my head to try to get a response from me. Groaning, I mutter, "Are you really shaking my head right now? It already hurts like a spix kicked it, so stop!" "Getting in touch with your spirit animal, were you?" His question is flippant, but there's relief in his tone that he can't hide. "Yeah, it said to give you this." I raise my middle finger at him. He stares at it, because the gesture means nothing to him. "I should take your finger?" he asks. "I hate you,"
Bartol, Amy A. (2015-03-31). Sea of Stars (The Kricket Series Book 2) (p. 285). 47North. Kindle Edition. — Amy A. Bartol

One walks along a street and strays unknowingly from one's path; one then looks up and suddenly for those familiar landmarks of orientation, and, seeing none, one feels lost. Panic drapes the look of the world in a strangeness, and the more one stares blankly at the world, the stranger it looks, the more hideously frightening it seems. There is then born in one a wild, hot wish to project out upon the alien world the world that one is seeking. This wish is a hunger for power, to be in command of one's self. — Richard Wright

They stare at each other, one of those high-testosterone stares. "Amazing," Tucker says. There's a challenge in his voice. "Best summer of my life."
I wonder if it's too late to get out of this class.
"Well, that's the thing about summers, isn't it?" says Christian after a minute. "They have to end sometime. — Cynthia Hand

When your house contains such a complex of piping, flues, ducts, wires, lights, inlets, outlets, ovens, sinks, refuse disposers, hi-fi re-verberators, antennae, conduits, freezers, heaters -when it contains so many services that the hardware could stand up by itself without any assistance from the house, why have a house hold it up. When the cost of all this tackle is half of the total outlay (or more, as it often is) what is the house doing except concealing your mechanical pudenda from the stares of folks on the sidewalk? — Reyner Banham

Contrary to popular assumption, going on an expedition around the world is not merely a matter of obtaining a ship and charting a course. There are visas to be considered, and bureaucracy to navigate when those visas fail to arrive in time, expire too soon, or meet with blank stares on the receiving end. The politics of nations and their economic markets may interfere with your journey. In short, you may spend an appalling amount of time mired in stuffy little offices, trying to get permission to be where you are. — Marie Brennan

He gives me one of those twinkling stares. His eyes coalesce and fragment color, glinting specks of midnight purple and an electric blue, when the light catches them just right. Straight on they look like indelible pitch, well deep with secrets and primordial darkness. — Poppet

There are many perks to living for twenty-one centuries, and foremost among them is bearing witness to the rare birth of genius. It invariably goes like this: Someone shrugs off the weight of his cultural traditions, ignores the baleful stares of authority, and does something his countrymen think to be completely batshit insane. Of those, Galileo was my personal favorite. Van Gogh comes in second, but he really was batshit insane. — Kevin Hearne

Howl backed into the door to shut it and leaned there in a tragic attitude. "Look at you all!" he said. "Ruin stares me in the face. I slave all day for you. And not one of you, even Calcifer, can spare time to say hello!"
Calcifer said, "I never do say hello."
"Is something wrong?" asked Sophie.
"That's better," Howl said. "Some of you are pretending to notice me at last. Yes, something is wrong. — Diana Wynne Jones

Be proud of your child, accept him as he is and do not heed the words and stares of those who know no better. This child has a meaning for you and for all children. You will find a joy you cannot now suspect in fulfilling his life for and with him. — Pearl S. Buck

The wonderful illogicalness of life stares him in the face like God. — Barry Webster

Good girls hold their heads high by daylight,
Their grace and their virtue soaring with kites,
While bad girls slink along in their shame-
Everyone stares at them, everyone blames.
But those bad girls sleep soundly at night,
Ne'er do their consciences wake them in a fright,
While our good girls toss and they turn-
They lay awake for those who will burn. — Anna Godbersen

I look after those who look after me." He smacks his lips, stares at me, and adds, "I also look after those who don't." - Sara Gruen (Water for Elephants) — Sara Gruen

PREFACE A New Look at the Legacy of Albert Einstein Genius. Absent-minded professor. The father of relativity. The mythical figure of Albert Einstein - hair flaming in the wind, sockless, wearing an oversized sweatshirt, puffing on his pipe, oblivious to his surroundings - is etched indelibly on our minds. "A pop icon on a par with Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe, he stares enigmatically from postcards, magazine covers, T-shirts, and larger-than-life posters. A Beverly Hills agent markets his image for television commercials. He would have hated it all," writes biographer Denis Brian. Einstein is among the greatest scientists of all time, a towering figure who ranks alongside Isaac Newton for his contributions. Not surprisingly, Time magazine voted him the Person of the Century. Many historians have placed him among the hundred most influential people of the last thousand years. — Michio Kaku

Music is where I feel loved. Past, present. Music is where I give love. Why do I continue to enter rooms of strangers who are suffering, dying, cursing, diminished, unwashed? Because of love. I don't see hollow faces, blank stares, decaying bodies. I see the faces of God in these human beings. Precious people with stories, contributions, presence. Music pays tribute to their lives, often coaxes out their life stories, gives them worth, but most of all loves them when they are lost, weak, vulnerable. — Robin Russell Gaiser

The love of the painter standing alone and staring, staring at the great coloured surface he is making. Standing with him in the room the rearing canvas stares back with tentative shapes halted in their growth, moving in a new rhythm from floor to ceiling. The twisted tubes, the fresh paint squeezed and smeared across the dry upon his palette. The dust beneath the easel. The paint has edged along the brushes' handles. The white light in a northern sky is silent. The window gapes as he inhales his world. His world: a rented room, and turpentine. He moves towards his half-born. He is in love. — Mervyn Peake

That's my window. This minute
So gently did I alight
From sleep--was still floating in it.
Where has my life its limit
And where begins the night?

I could fancy all things around me
Were nothing but I as yet;
Like a crystal's depth, profoundly
Mute, translucent, unlit.

I have space to spare inside me
For the stars, too: so full of room
Feels my heart; so lightly
Would it let go of him, whom

For all I know I have started
To love, it may be to hold.
Strange, as if never charted,
Stares my fortune untold.

Why is it I am bedded
Beneath this infinitude,
Fragrant like a meadow,
Hither and thither moved,

Calling out, yet fearing
Someone might hear the cry,
Destined to disappearing
Within another I. — Rainer Maria Rilke

Bull stares into the hazy distance as though the right words are out there somewhere and all he has to do is claim them as his own. Sometimes it gets so quiet in Gungee you can hear conversations from a hundred years ago breathing on a gust of wind. — Bill Condon

Amanuensis. That was the word she chose, and since it was straight out of the nineteenth century, her mother approved, relishing the blank stares she received when she told her lady guests what position her daughter had acquired with the State Poet Laureate. — Toni Morrison

The hours spent forming a written work can make one obsessive, distracted, compulsive, and neurotic even, especially when it comes to those rare, precious occasions of streaming pure inspiration. To have a muse moment interrupted - to watch her scuttle back into hiding with unshared insight remaining on the tip of her tongue - is a wicked irritation. When a writer's eyes glaze over, when she stares off at nothing or appears to be memorizing the lines on a blank page, when she falls asleep at the desk ... tiptoe softly. For a writer's greatest desire is to receive inspiration; her greatest nightmare, to have tossed to the wind what could've been captured in words. — Richelle E. Goodrich

There's this thing. I can, like, do a cast of your cock and make a vibrator out of it. How cool's that? Cos then, right, then I can suck you off and have you fucking me at the same time, like there's two of you. I've gone all tingly."
Lindsay doesn't know what to say for a second so he just stares at Valentine with something he imagines must look like horror. "What the hell am I doing with you?"
"Broadening your horizons. Or something."
"I must be crazy."
"That's okay, that's why it works. We're both a bit warped. Together we make sort of one whole person. — Richard Rider

One second, we are surrounded by angels holding their swords. The next second, one of their arms drops and his sword thunks to the grass like a lead weight. The angel stares at his blade uncomprehendingly.
Another sword drops.
Then another.
Then a whole bunch, until all the other unsheathed swords fall, thudding on the grass like subjects bowing down to their queen.
The angels stare at the swords at their feet in utter shock.
Then everyone looks at me. Actually, it's probably more accurate to say they're looking at my sword.
"Whoa." That's about the most intelligent thing I can say right now. Did Raffe say something about an archangel sword intimidating other angel swords if she could gain their respect?
I swivel my eyes to look at the blade in my hands. Was that you, Pooky Bear? — Susan Ee

What is originality? To see something that has no name as yet and hence cannot be mentioned although it stares us all in the face. The way men usually are, it takes a name to make something visible for them. — Friedrich Nietzsche

For the others, like me, there is only the flash
Of negative knowledge, the night when, drunk, one
Staggers to the bathroom and stares in the glass
To meet one's madness — W. H. Auden

Lucas: I wanted to talk to you after class, but you disappeared.
Me: I have another class right after. One of those profs who stops talking, stares at you and waits until you get to your seat if you're late.
Lucas: I would probably just walk to my seat even slower. ;) — Tammara Webber

I focus back on Kayden, releasing a breath trapped in my chest. "Are you okay?" He cups his hand over his eye, stares at his shoes, and keeps his other hand against his chest, seeming vulnerable, weak, and perplexed. For a second, I picture myself on the ground with bruises and cuts that can only be seen from the inside. "I'm fine." His voice is harsh, so I turn toward the house, ready to bolt. "Why did you do that?" he calls out through the darkness. I stop on the line of the grass and turn to meet his eyes. "I did what anyone else would have done. — Jessica Sorensen

Two years ago," she says, "I was afraid of spiders, suffocation, walls that inch slowly inward and trap you between them,getting thrown out of Dauntless, uncontrollable bleeding, getting run over by a train, my father's death,public humiliation, and kidnapping by men without faces."
Everyone stares blankly at her.
"Most of you will have anywhere from ten to fifteen years in your fear landscapes. That is the average number," she says.
"What's the lowest number someone has gotten?" asks Lynn.
"In recent years," says Lauren, "four."
I have not looked at Tobias since we were in the cafeteria,but I can't help but look at him now. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor. I knew that four was a low number, low enough to merit a nickname,but I didn't know it was less than half the average.
I glare at my feet.He's exceptional. And now he won't even look at me. — Veronica Roth

Don't stay away from me anymore."
I stop myself, just barely, from telling him I won't. I can't promise that. Can't lie.
He opens his eyes. Stares starkly, bleakly. "I need you. — Sophie Jordan

Look, let me just say it: He was hot. A nonhot boy stares at you relentlessly and it is, at best, awkward and, at worst, a form of assault. But a hot boy ... well. — John Green

Dear Sir: I will wish to establish my name as the best Ethiopian songwriter. But I am not encouraged in undertaking this as long as 'The Old Folks At Home' stares me in the face with another's name on it. — Stephen Foster

His dark hair is perfectly recklessly up today, those tanned muscles flexing as he extends out his arms and does his little turn. And here I am, my breath caught between my lungs and my lips as he turns around and scans the crowd. As soon as he spots me, his eyes come alive, as alive as I feel when he smiles at me. He holds my gaze while those dimples flash, and I swear he stares at me in a way that makes me feel that I am the only woman here. — Katy Evans

Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn:
It listens, listens. Taller trees beyond
Listen. The moon at the unruffled pond
Stares. And you sing, you sing.
That star-enchanted song falls through the air
From lawn to lawn down terraces of sound,
Darts in white arrows on the shadowed ground;
And all the night you sing.
My dreams are flowers to which you are a bee
As all night long I listen, and my brain
Receives your song, then loses it again
In moonlight on the lawn.
Now is your voice a marble high and white,
Then like a mist on fields of paradise,
Now is a raging fire, then is like ice,
Then breaks, and it is dawn. — Harold Monro

What we do when defeat stares us in the face is the real touchstone of character. But the very fact that success has time and again proved the means of awakening people to the knowledge of greater ability than they ever before dreamed they possessed, ought to hearten and encourage us to keep on no matter how often we fail. If we brace ourselves and continue to push forward we will ultimately win out. (From Everybody ahead, or getting the most out of life) — Orison Swett Marden

She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars. — Neil Gaiman

I wanted to scream at those with the probing stares. "Stop calling me a loser! The way I live life is my choice." But I stop short, fearing being labelled a psychopath. — Kavipriya Moorthy

What a relief to be away from the stares of those extraordinary beings! — Carmen Laforet

She stares at me for a moment, and then she bursts out laughing. "You haven't seen his perfect little wife and his perfect little girls. Believe me, Oliver, I'm not the great love of his life, the one he'll never forget."
"You are to me," I say. — Jodi Picoult

And then, on September 11, the world fractured.
It's beyond my skill as a writer to capture that day and the days that would follow
the planes, like specters, vanishing into steel and glass; the slow-motion cascade of the towers crumbling into themselves; the ash-covered figures wandering the streets; the anguish and the fear. Nor do I pretend to understand the stark nihilism that drove the terrorists that day and that drives their brethren still. My powers of empathy, my ability to reach into another's heart, cannot penetrate the blank stares of those would murder innocents with abstract, serene satisfaction. — Barack Obama

There Rhoda sits staring at the blackboard,' said Louis, 'in the
schoolroom, while we ramble off, picking here a bit of thyme,
pinching here a leaf of southernwood while Bernard tells a story.
Her shoulder-blades meet across her back like the wings of a small
butterfly. And as she stares at the chalk figures, her mind lodges
in those white circles, it steps through those white loops into
emptiness, alone. They have no meaning for her. She has no answer
for them. She has no body as the others have. And I, who speak
with an Australian accent, whose father is a banker in Brisbane, do
not fear her as I fear the others. — Virginia Woolf

I heard this girl worked for Bishop,' said one of the guys, who had a tire iron resting on his shoulder. 'Carrying around his death warrants. Like one of those Nazi collaborators.'
'You heard wrong,' Shane said. 'She's my girl. Now back off.'
'Let's hear from her,' said the leader of the pack, and locked stares with Claire. 'So? You working for the vamps?'
Shane sent her a quick, warning glance.
Claire took in a deep breath and said, 'Absolutely.'
'Ah hell,' Shane breathed. 'Okay, then. Run. — Rachel Caine

Little by litter life returned to normal. The barbed wire which fenced us in did not cause us any real fear. We even thought ourselves rather well off; we were entirely self-contained. A little Jewish republic ... We appointed a Jewish Council, a Jewish police, an office for social assistance, a labor committee, a hygiene department - a whole government machinery.
Everyone marveled at it. We should no longer have before our eyes those hostile faces, those hate-laden stares. Our fear and anguish were at an end. We were living among Jews, among brothers. — Elie Wiesel

Fuck." He stares at me for a long time. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. This is the most beautiful thing I've ever felt."
And those are the most beautiful words that have ever been said to me. — L. H. Cosway

By the time those electric blue eyes seek me out in the stands, my heart throbs fiercely in my temples, and my insides bubble with emotion when he spots me. He stares straight into my eyes, and his eyes are only mine, and his smile is only mine, and for this fraction of an instant, nothing else matters but us. — Katy Evans

Professor Severus Snape: There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few ...
[stares at Draco Malfoy]
Professor Severus Snape: Who possess, the predisposition ... I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.
[notices Harry scribbling on his paper]
Professor Severus Snape: Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention!
[steps over to Harry]
Professor Severus Snape: Mister Potter. Our new celebrity. — J.K. Rowling

I used to think that the interesting issue was whether we should have a monarchy or not. But now I think that question is rather like, should we have pandas or not? Our current royal family doesn't have the difficulties in breeding that pandas do, but pandas and royal persons alike are expensive to conserve and ill-adapted to any modern environment. But aren't they interesting? Aren't they nice to look at? Some people find them endearing; some pity them for their precarious situation; everybody stares at them, and however airy the enclosure they inhabit, it's still a cage. And what they see, are the curious spectators looking at them, and then the turned backs of those spectators as they walk away. — Hilary Mantel

Facing him as I lower the glass from my lips, he's giving me one of those intense moonlit stares. — Poppet

6. Sleep with a bra on every night in fear of your boobs dropping should you forget. Intermediate: Don't wear a bra in the daytime. Advanced: Forget bras and wear the Hear Comes Trouble T-shirt you got for your eighth birthday. Act offended if anyone stares at the new shape of the word Trouble. Wear the shirt until your mother asks what smells. — Tupelo Hassman

Me: *stares into the void*

The Void: *stares back*

Me: *winks*

The Void: *blushes* — Unknown

Now it stands to reason, mister, any damn fool stares into the sun long enough, he'll end up seeing exactly what some other damn fool tells him he's going to see. — John D. MacDonald

Zahra, what happens to you when I make my last wish?"
"When your third wish is granted, you will cease to be my master. You may possess the lamp, but you cannot call me. I will return to it and await the next Lampholder."
Abruptly he stands and walks across the room. When he reaches the wall, he turns and stares down at me. "So to win my revenge, I must lose you. — Jessica Khoury

All that we are not stares back at what we are. — W. H. Auden

As I brush my long, brown hair, the girl in the mirror with blue eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait ... I don't have blue eyes! Then I realize I haven't been looking into the mirror. I've been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is actually fine. — Andrew Shaffer

Mostly, she sees the good in the world, the light where there is dark ... She sees beauty where we mostly pass it by. But tonight, she was heavy-hearted. I think sometimes she unfolds all her losses and stares at them, in the dark. — Susan Fletcher

My father loved to take us on historical vacations, and you should have seen the stares we received in East Berlin. — Marcus Samuelsson

Adam stares at me so long I begin to blush. He tips my chin up so I meet his eyes. Blue blue blue boring into me. His voice is deep, steady. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh."
He's so excruciatingly correct I don't know how to respond except with the truth. My smile is tucked into a straight line. "Laughter comes from living." I shrug, try to sound indifferent. "I've never really been alive before. — Tahereh Mafi

Canluum, Lan paid as little attention to the stares he — Robert Jordan

It's not really a practical dream to have, is it?
He stares right at me. It's intense, being under the weight of his full attention. Dreams have to be practical? — Hannah Harrington

Don't you look at me like that, Ror," he whispers. I meet his eyes again. "Like what?" He stares at me a moment, then shakes his head as if to clear it. — Danielle Pearl

He (Kris Medlin) has a communication with a force in pitching that most of us can't talk to. It's an awareness; it's a sixth sense. When he steps in and stares in to that catcher, that little man on his shoulder's going to take over and tell him what to do. And he's done it well. — Don Sutton

The blank sheet stares up at me, its emptiness like a slap. Those were the last words Ginny ever wrote before she and her family were murdered. — Jennifer Walkup

In my job, I am portrayed as a misfit, a grandiose high fashion lady or an unearthly creature. At home, it's important I can look in the mirror, strip away the disguise and be comfortable with who stares back. — Erin O'Connor

I've always wondered about Stop-and-Go guys. Do you like it if drivers wave and say thanks as they go past? Or is it better if they ignore you? Most times when I'm out in the car with Bull, I give a wave and a "thanks". Usually the guy with the sign stares at me as if I've just escaped from an asylum. So what's the right thing to do?'
'I've never met anyone like you before, Tiffany.'
'Really?'
'No - never.'
'Then you just haven't been to enough asylums. — Bill Condon

Are you guys, like, in love? Brian asked in a girl voice.
Alexis and Jason locked stares because even though everyone had started laughing at Brian's jibe, the word was there, hanging between the two of them, waiting to be grabbed for their personal use. — Lindsay Chamberlin

Why did you break up?"
"Because she didn't like what I became after I left the army."
"And what was that?"
He stares deep into my eyes. A sudden coolness overtakes the warmth. It sends an unexpected chill running through me. "Uncaring. Hard. Cold," he answers dryly.
I swallow down. "And what were you before?"
"Uncaring ... hard ... cold." He grins, his warmth instantly returning. — Samantha Towle

And sometimes, love is unconventional and it breaks all the rules and blurs all the lines and basks in its glory, shining as bright as the sun, unapologetically glowing even under the narrowed stares of society and its screaming, self-righteous morals, berating and judging that which it doesn't understand. — Madeline Sheehan

Caldwell speaks in the dry, inflectionless tone of a lecturer, but her expression hardens as she stares down at the thing that is both her nemesis and the focal point of her waking life. "If — M.R. Carey

am an Addict's Mom. I am an Addict's Mom. I stand before you able to state without hesitation that Yes, I am an addict's mom. I have learned to look past those judgmental stares, sensing what you are thinking, that I must be "one of those Moms." That somewhere, somehow, I made some horrific choices that sent my child into the depths of hell. I am here to tell you that the choices my child made are his own and his alone. This nightmare is far from what I wanted for my child. Just like everyone with children, there were big dreams and hopes for my child. — Joe Herzanek

Sound doesn't carry as well through gills. You have to use a different level of your vocal chords." I point to the spot just above his Adam's apple. "Higher."
He just stares at me, looking confused - but breathing like he was born to it.
"Pretend you're talking like a girl."
No way, he mouths, shaking his head.
Stupid male ego. — Tera Lynn Childs

"Rachel ... you need help."
I laugh and it's the same bitter laugh I remember him giving when we met so many weeks ago. "So do you."
"I love you." Isaiah says it so simply that my heart soars and sinks at the same time.
"I love you," I whisper. "Did you ever think that loving someone could hurt so bad?"
Isaiah shakes his head and stares out the window.
"What's going to happen to us?" I ask. Because I don't know how the two of us can continue forward. Isaiah refuses to let me in. It's sort of cruel. He's brought me close with his stories of his childhood and with his words of love, but he can't relinquish control. I refuse to be with someone who won't treat me as an equal. — Katie McGarry

He stares at me so darkly, so hungily that I can only nod. Agree. Of course, I feel it. "I do", I admit. — Sophie Jordan

Dreaming is a form of action. Idleness is a form of action. The idle man stares at the sky and sees what constitutes our eternal ceiling. The sky is one of the things that constructs us, one of our constants. But it is not what people believe. I should like to close this circle by turning over in my bed and scrutinizing the stars. — Philippe Starck

If you're in the exorcism business, you must know a lot about demons." "Qliphoth," he says. "What?" "It's the proper word for what you call a demon. A demon is a bogeyman, an irrational entity representing fear in the collective unconscious. The Qliphoth are the castoffs of a greater entity. The old gods. They're dumb and their lack of intelligence makes them pure evil." "Okay, Daniel Webster. What happened at the exorcism?" Traven takes a breath and stares at his hands for a minute. "You should know that I don't follow the Church's standard exorcism rites. For instance, I seldom speak Latin. If Qliphoth really are lost fragments of the Angra Om Ya, the older dark gods, they're part of creatures millions of years old. Why would Latin have any effect on them? — Richard Kadrey

When they had hurried to the train station with their violin cases, they had drawn almost as many stares as they would on any normal day when their hair was to their knees and sheeting behind them like red silk. A poetic fruit-seller had told them once that they looked like dryads, and they did still, only now they looked like dryads who had tired of snagging their hair on brambles and sliced it all off on the edge of a knife. — Laini Taylor

He leans close to me again, gently placing his hand on my cheek and stares straight into my eyes. "I know that this thing we have - you and me - there is no end, Sara. You don't have to worry about life without me, because I go where you go. — J.A. DeRouen

Out from the servient shoulders of some smooth-tongued Waiter it stares, into the scared dilating pupils of the White Satin Bride with her pledged hand clutching her Bridegroom's sleeve. Up from the gravelly, pick-and-shovel labor of the new-made grave it lifts its weirdly magnetic eyes to the Widow's tears. Down from some petted Princeling's silver-trimmed saddle horse it smiles its electrifying, wistful smile into the Peasant's sodden weariness. Across the slender white rail of an always out-going steamer it stings back into your gray, land-locked consciousness like the tang of a scarlet spray. And the secret of the face, of course, is "Lure"; but to save your soul you could not decide in any specific case whether the lure is the lure of personality, or the lure of physiognomy - a mere accidental, coincidental, haphazard harmony of forehead and cheek-bone and twittering facial muscles. — Eleanor Hallowell Abbott

Miss Celia stares down into the pot like she's looking for her future. "Are you happy, Minny?"
"Why you ask me funny questions like that?"
"But are you?"
"Course I's happy. You happy too. Big house, big yard, husband looking after you." I frown at Miss Celia and I make sure she can see it. Because ain't that white people for you, wondering if they are happy ENOUGH. — Kathryn Stockett

I saw the sunset-colored sands,
The Nile like flowing fire between,
Where Rameses stares forth serene,
And Ammon's heavy temple stands.
I saw the rocks where long ago,
Above the sea that cries and breaks,
Swift Perseus with Medusa's snakes
Set free the maiden white like snow.
And many skies have covered me,
And many winds have blown me forth,
And I have loved the green, bright north,
And I have loved the cold, sweet sea.
But what to me are north and south,
And what the lure of many lands,
Since you have leaned to catch my hands
And lay a kiss upon my mouth. — Sara Teasdale