Wondering Eyes Quotes & Sayings

Once he was gone, I closed my eyes and pulled in everything from our short time together: the way he stared at me, the playful smiles, the sweet kisses. I thought about them over and over as I got ready for bed, wondering if Maxon was doing the same thing. — Kiera Cass

It was so stupid, and random, but at that second, with the morning sun hitting her auburn hair, and her huge brown eyes fixed on him, the lock flew off the "do-not-allow-yourself-to-even-think-about-it" portion of his brain, and every feeling he ever had for her - feelings he never even realized he had for her - flooded over him like a tidal wave. Love, tenderness, desire - it hit him so hard he had to excuse himself, go to the men's room, rest his forehead against the cool metal of the bathroom stall, breathing heavily, wondering what the hell had just happened. It left him exhausted and spent, as if he'd just run a hundred miles.
And almost a year later, he was still exhausted, spent, frustrated ... and madly in love. — Claire Matthews

From day one it was like society was this violent, complicated dance and everybody had taken lessons but me. Knocked to the floor again, climbing to my feet each time, bloody and humiliated. Always met with disapproving faces, waiting for me to leave so I'd stop fucking up the party.
The wanted to push me outside, where the freaks huddled in the cold. Out there with the misfits, the broken, the glazed-eye types who can only watch as the normals enjoy their shiny new cars and careers and marriages and vacations with the kids.
The freaks spend their lives shambling around, wondering how they got left out, mumbling about conspiracy theories and bigfoot sightings. Their encounters with the world are marked by awkward conversations and stifled laughter, hidden smirks and rolled eyes. And worst of all, pity. — David Wong

If you are seeking for security, certainty, your eyes will become closed. And you will be less and less surprised and you will lose the capacity to wonder. Once you lose the capacity to wonder, you have lost religion. Religion is the opening of your wondering heart. Religion is a receptivity for the mysterious that surrounds us. Don't seek security; don't seek advice on how to live your life. — Rajneesh

He urged his horse forward, his body straining, ready to be on his way. But at the last second he looked back at her and swerved, drawing the beast up beside her. From underneath the brim of his hat, he peered down at her. The intensity in the blue depths dragged her in until she felt as if she were drowning. "You've done good so far, Priscilla." At the unexpected words of praise, she sucked in a breath. His gaze dropped to her lips, lingered there for an instant before returning to her eyes, darker, bluer. Her lungs stopped working, and she clutched a hand to her chest. "I'll see your pretty face in a couple days." She nodded, too breathless to respond. He kicked his heels into his horse and left her standing, watching after him, wondering if he was taking her heart with him. — Jody Hedlund

Calm now," I said with my lips to his ear and my hand to the side of his face. I knew he was thinking of Bad Axe, straining against a distant memory. In a lucid instant, he gripped my hand and searched my face. I felt him fighting to hold to this life, at great sufferance to himself.
I whispered, "Don't struggle for me, Henry, not if you are tired and wish to go."
I pressed my lips to his cheek, touched my finger to the corners of his eyes to brush away the moisture there.
"Husband?" I asked, searching his face, wondering why, suddenly, it had changed so.
All that night, I kept watch over him.
Even though he had gone, I did not want him to believe that such a small thing as the end of living could ever separate the two of us. — Micaela Gilchrist

The king is always watching her out of his pale eyes, wondering what she is, and the king's son wounds himself with loving her and wonders who she is. And every day she searches the sea and the sky, the castle and the courtyard, the keep and the king's face, for something she cannot always remember. What is it, what is it that she is seeking in this strange place? She knew a moment ago, but she was forgotten. — Peter S. Beagle

Remember that vision on the Mount of Transfiguration; and let it be ours, even in the glare of earthly joys and brightnesses, to lift up our eyes, like those wondering three, and see no man any more, save Jesus only. — Alexander MacLaren

As Sloan approached the door, Paul Lyons lifted his eyes to watch her leave. He found himself wondering why after all these years they couldn't manage to get along for a lousy twenty minutes. Perhaps it was the result of their inability to compromise - to give each other the benefit of the doubt. Or maybe they'd both simply lost the ability to trust another human being and believe anything good could come of this world. — Kaylin McFarren

When the Warrior pulled her half onto his lap and she felt the hard bulge of his erection thrusting up from his groin pressing into her hip, Katya grew nervous. She pulled away, gasping, and pressed him back with her hand on his chest. "Wait! Wait." She licked her tingling lips and touched them with her fingertips, wondering what she'd been thinking to awaken this sleeping giant. What had happened to her vow to fight him off with all her strength?
Turan's dark eyes glowed like two banked coals ready to ignite into flame. "Please. More," he begged hoarsely. "Please."
She suddenly realized that, despite the fact he could snap her in two if he wished, she was the one with the power. He didn't intend to hurt or force her. — Bonnie Dee

Clary shut her eyes. You didn't say no to an angel, no matter what it had in mind. Her heart pounding, she sat floating in the darkness behind her eyelids, resolutely trying not to think of Jace. But his face appear against the blank screen of her closed eyelids anyway - not smiling at her but looking sidelong, and she could see the scar at his temple, the uneven curl at the corner of his mouth, and the silver line on his throat where Simon had bitten him - all the marks and flaws and imperfections that made up the person she loved most in the world. Jace. A bright light lit her vision to scarlet, and she fell back against the sand, wondering if she was going to pass out - or maybe she was dying - but she didn't want to die, not now that she could see Jace's face so clearly in front of her. She could almost hear his voice, too, saying her name, the way he'd whispered it at Renwick's, over and over again. Clary. Clary. Clary.
"Clary," Jace said. "Open your eyes. — Cassandra Clare

For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and wondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the wood
(she considered him to be a footman because he was in livery: otherwise, judging by his face only, she would have called him a fish)
and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery, with a round face, and large eyes like a frog; and both footmen, Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over their heads. She felt very curious to know what it was all about, and crept a little way out of the wood to listen. — Lewis Carroll

She preferred having her eyes lost in the night sky wondering about the stars, the universe and the creator. — Pierre Alex Jeanty

She thought of the way Jace had looked at her then, the blaze of faith in his eyes, his belief in her. He had always thought she was strong. He had showed it in everything he did, in every look and every touch. Simon had faith in her too, yet when he'd held her, it had been as if she were something fragile, something made of delicate glass. But Jace had held her with all the strength he had, never wondering if she could take it
he'd known she was as strong as he was. — Cassandra Clare

We stayed a step behind the three boys. Every once in a while they would turn around and look at us, wondering, I guess, why we were following them. Sometimes they stared openly at Ema. There may have been derision in their eyes, I couldn't say for sure. Ema was decked out in her customary black - black clothes, black hair, black nail polish, black lipstick. Tattoos ran up and down her arms and across her neck. I — Harlan Coben

Quinn shucked his jeans but left his boxers on as he crawled on the bed and covered her body - kissing her along the way. "I think one of us is still overdressed," he murmured.
She couldn't help but tease him. "I was wondering why you left your boxers on."
And then he rested his forehead against hers, closed his eyes, and smiled. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"
She shook her head. "I was hoping to make it... hard. Very, very hard. — Samantha Chase

They say that the eyes of some paintings can follow you around the room, a fact that I doubt, but I am wondering whether some music can follow you for ever. — Terry Pratchett

I sucked on her neck, closing my eyes and wondering if she'd let me mark her there, so I could see it tomorrow. So everyone could. — Christina Lauren

I close my eyes, wondering whether we are ever truly blindsided by misfortune. Or, somehow, somewhere, in the form of empathy or worry or a premonition deep within ourselves, do we feel it coming? — Emily Giffin

I smiled half a smile at her puppy antics, wondering what it would be like to be able to join her, to shed my human skin and the confines that went with it and just live in the moment as a wolf. What would I look like with four legs and fur - would I be light-colored like Katie, or a darker timber, like Dev? I wondered if I would be velvet black with ice-blue eyes, like Chase. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

He always knew what I would have liked to say, and with startling and increasing accuracy as we spent more time together. One time, for example, I was wondering exactly how he had lost that tooth at the back of his mouth when he saw my eyes on his waning grin and replied, "Ran into a fence when I was twelve." And then I wondered how the heck he could have missed the giant fence standing right in front of him and he said, "Shut up. — Rose Christo

Some people see a magic trick and say, "Impossible!" They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good night's sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for that skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they're the kind who won't rest until they've mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I'm that kind. — Leigh Bardugo

I drove to the doctor's office as if I was starring in a movie Phillip was watching
windows down, hair blowing, just one hand on the wheel. When I stopped at red lights, I kept my eyes mysteriously forward. Who is she? people might have been wondering. Who is that middle-aged woman in the blue Honda? — Miranda July

His eyes were heavy with desire, but she saw something else. A gleam that made her suspicious.
"What?" she asked.
His hand slid to her hips. "You're incredible."
"That's not what you were thinking."
"Was so. I always think that." He leaned in, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger as he kissed her bottom lip. "But I was also wondering what you were doing around Butter today.
Aria laughed. That was attractive. She smelled like horse. — Veronica Rossi

He took a quick breath, and his voice dropped. "You've no notion of the effect you have on me"
The words gave a hard tug to her belly. She closed her eyes and swallowed. "If by effect, you mean finding yourself in unchartered waters, wondering whether you are coming or going ... " She stared at his shirt, watching his breath hitch. "Then I fear you have the same effect on me, my lord. — Kristen Callihan

Pens?" Chase echoed.
Bridget rolled her eyes. "Pens are by far more stimulating than most people."
"I'm kind of wondering what you're going with those pens," Chase said
Madison scrunched up her nose. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
"My mind is always in the gutter around you. — J. Lynn

Wait a second," Four says. I turn toward him, wondering which version of Four I'll see now-the one who scolds me, or the one who climbs Ferris wheels with me. He smiles a little, but the smile doesn't spread to his eyes, which look less tense and worried.
"You belong here, you know that?" he says. "You belong with us. It'll be over soon, so just hold on, okay?"
He scratches behind his ear and looks away, like he's embarrassed by what he said.
I stare at him. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, even in my toes. I feel like doing something bold, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is smarter, or better. I am not sure that I care.
I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.
I stare up at him, and he stares down at me. For a long moment, we stay that way. Then I pull my hand away and run after Uriah and Lynn and Marlene. Maybe now he thinks I'm stupid, or strange. Maybe it was worth it. — Veronica Roth

It was Lorraine in her nightie and Mo in his cap. They'd just settled their brains for a long winter's nap in front of the television. When out in the lot there arose such a clatter, they sprang from their recliners to see what was the matter. Away to the window they flew like a flash, tore open the blinds and threw up the sash. And what to their wondering eyes should appear, but Stephanie Plum and yet another of her cars burning front to rear. — Janet Evanovich

Why?" I asked softly. The word was carried away on the wind, but he heard.
"Because I want you."
I gave him a sad smile, wondering if we'd meet again in the land of the dead. "Wrong answer," I told him.
I let go.
[ ... ]
I looked him in the eye. "I will always love you."
Then I plunged the stake into his chest.
It wasn't as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging. I struggled to get the stake in deep enough to his heart, unsure if I could do it from this angle. Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one.
"That's what I was supposed to say ... " he gasped out. — Richelle Mead

I've been wondering ... I mean, I thought you might be able to tell me something. Buddy met my eyes and I saw, for the first time, how he had changed. Instead of the old, sure smile that flashed on easily and frequently as a photographer's bulb, his face was grave, even tentative
the face of a man who often does not get what he wants. — Sylvia Plath

She had seen those eyes dark with brooding anger and cold as ice, she'd seen his gaze veiled like a spiderweb and shattering like a gate under pressure. But she'd never seen them as they were now. Full of wondering joy and disbelief, and an almost frightened awe. — L.J.Smith

Is this seat taken?"
The deep, gravelly voice jolted Noelle from her blood-thirsty thoughts. When she laid eyes on the man it belonged to her breath caught in her throat.
She blinked, wondering if maybe she'd dreamed him, but then he flashed her a captivating grin and she realized that he must be real - her mind wasn't capable of conjuring up a smile this heart-stoppingly gorgeous.
A pair of vivid blue eyes watched her expectantly as she searched for her voice.
"There are lots of other seats available," she finally replied, gesturing to the deserted tables all around them.
He shrugged. "I don't want to sit anywhere but here."
She moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Why?"
"Because none of those other seats are across from you," he said simply. — Elle Kennedy

o here I am, upside down in a woman. Arms patiently crossed, waiting, waiting and wondering who I'm in, what I'm in for. My eyes close nostalgically when I remember how I once drifted in my translucent body bag, floated dreamily in the bubble of my thoughts through my private ocean in slow-motion somersaults, colliding gently against the transparent bounds of my confinement, the confiding membrane that vibrated with, even as it muffled, the voices of conspirators in a vile enterprise. That was in my careless youth. Now, fully inverted, not an inch of space to myself, knees crammed against my belly, my thoughts as well as my head are fully engaged. I've no choice, my ear is pressed all day and night against the bloody walls. I listen, make mental notes, and I'm troubled. I'm hearing pillow talk of deadly intent and I'm terrified by what awaits me, by what might draw me in. — Ian McEwan

The moral nature of man is more sacred in my eyes than his intellectual nature. I know they cannot be divorced
that without intelligence we should be brutes
but it is the tendency of our gaping, wondering dispositions to give pre-eminence to those faculties which most astonish us. Strength of character seldom, if ever, astonishes; goodness, lovingness, and quiet self-sacrifice, are worth all the talents in the world. — George Henry Lewes

She navigated away from the Parish Council message board and dropped into her favorite medical website, where she painstakingly entered the words "brain" and "death" in the search box.
The suggestions were endless. Shirley scrolled through the possibilities, her mild eyes rolling up and down, wondering to which of these deadly conditions, some of them unpronounceable, she owed her present happiness. — J.K. Rowling

I felt her soul staring deep into mine. Her eyes were full of wondering interest and her beauty was softened by an air of mystery. — Brittainy C. Cherry

I keep wondering, if all of it is my fault. Where does it start, Tieren? With Holland's choice, or with mine?"
The priest looked at him, eyes bright within his tired face, and shook his head. For once, the old man didn't seem to have the answer. — V.E Schwab

I stood there and stared, into the sky and at the city around me. I stood, hands at my side, and I saw what had happened to me and who I was and the way things would always be for me. Truth. There was no more wishing, or wondering. I knew who I was, and what I would always do. I believed it, as my teeth touched and my eyes were overrun. — Markus Zusak

So,Miss Fitt," Clarence said once we turned onto a tree-lined road beside the river, "you are no doubt wondering why I invited you out."
I swatted the ribbon from my eyes. "And here I assumed it was my unsurpassable good looks."
He chuckled. "That was, of course, part of my motivation."
"Only part?" I slid my gaze left and watched him from the corner of my eye. "Well then,the rest of your reason must be that bribe you mentioned the other evening."
"Something like that. — Susan Dennard

Every now and then, we change our minds. It's our prerogative. The big secret is" - I leaned in conspiratorially - "sometimes, even we don't know why. There are times after we pick a fight where we're as confused as you are. But there's no way we're admitting it." I shrugged a shoulder, "That's why we have boobs."
Jake's eyebrows shot up.
"See, after we've acted crazy, and the guy's wondering what he's doing with us, we use them to mesmerize him, so he forgets that we're crazy." I shot Jake my most seductive smile and leaned the assets in question against his arm. "And by the way, if you look at my cleavage right now, even though I'm the one talking about it, I'll accuse you of not caring about what I saw and of just treating me like an object."
Jake swallowed hard, keeping eye contact with me, though I could tell he was fighting his impulse to look down. A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes. "And treating you like an object would be bad? — Cindi Madsen

Stark looked strong and healthy and totally gorgeous. I was distracting myself by wondering what exactly Scottish guys did, or didn't, wear under those kilts when he turned to face me.
His smile lit up his eyes. I can practically hear you thinking. — Kristin Cast

I'd never look at a pick again without wondering if it was Cole's heart.
He cocked an eyebrow. But the look in your eyes was murderous. Do you have a thing against guitar picks, or we're you hoping I'd be stupid enough to still carry my heart around with me? — Brodi Ashton

They drove back to her house in silence. Terrance pulled the car into the driveway and turned off the engine. Turning toward her, he said, "Khadejah, I really like you a lot and I don't want to hurt you. But I'm not a virgin and I like to have sex. If we're going to keep seeing each other, you've got to make a decision, because if I can't get it from you I'll get it from someone else." He looked her straight in her tear-filled eyes. "I need to know whether to get a room for after the concert. Let me know tomorrow." He reached over and opened her door.
Khadejah didn't say a word. She got out of the car and went into the house.
Terrance sat there for a few minutes wondering if he was being fair. She had to know that he was having sex. Damn, I should feel honored that she's still a virgin, he thought. Shit, I'll just have my cake and eat it, too.
Ten minutes later, Terrance was knocking on Adrienne's door. "Hey, can I come in? — Tracy L. Darity

He's a monster, wrapped up in a pretty package. But I find myself wondering at times like this, when I feel the distance between us, if maybe in his eyes, the real monster is me. — J.M. Darhower

She had been expecting me and was ready. She gave a long slow soundless headshake, merciful only in being inarticulate. This mercy didn't prevent its hurling at me the largest finest coldest 'Never!' I had yet, in the course of a life that had known denials, had to take full in the face. I took it and was aware that with the hard blow the tears had come into my eyes. So for a while we sat and looked at each other; after which I slowly rose. I was wondering if some day she would accept me; but this was not what I brought out. I said as I smoothed my hat: 'I know what to think then. It's nothing! — Henry James

There was Layla in the fullness of her lips, Lulu in the thick waves of her hair, Lu Xin in the intensity of her hazel eyes, Lucia in their twinkle. She was not alone. Maybe she never would be alone again. There, in the mirror, was every incarnation of Lucinda staring back at her and wondering, What is to become of us? What about our history, and our love? — Lauren Kate

I was wondering," he began, murmuring the words into my cheek as I rolled over. "Seeing as it's my birthday, do you think we could get away with spending the entire day in bed?"
I smiled and forced my sleepy eyes open. "And who will run the country?"
"No one. Let it fall to pieces. So long as I have my America in my arms. — Kiera Cass

Now when the ancient Egyptians, awestruck and wondering, turned their eyes to the heavens, they concluded that two gods, the sun and the moon, were primeval and eternal; and they called the former Osiris, the latter Isis. — Diodorus Siculus

This shit is potent. I feel ... " He nodded slowly. "Yeah."
I lifted my eyebrows, wondering if he was drunk or high.
Blondie giggled again and pointed at him. "I've never heard you cuss before."
"I don't," Hamilton said blankly before Blondie charged, "But you just said shit."
He laughed and pointed back at her. "So did you."
As they giggled together, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Oh, dear God. Someone shoot me now. — Linda Kage

Now she took a close look at me for the first time, puffing on her pipe while the old woman beside her sighed. I didnt feel I could look at Mother directly, but I had the impression of smoke seeping out of her face like steam from a crack in the earth. I was so curious about her that my eyes took on a life of their own and began to dart about. The more I saw of her, the more fascinated I became. Her kimono was yellow, with willowy branches bearing lovely green and orange leaves; it was made of silk gauze as delicate as a spiders web. Her obi was every bit as astonishing to me. It was a lovely gauzy texture too, but heavier-looking, in russet and brown with gold threads woven through. The more I looked at her clothing, the less I was aware of standing there in that dirt corridor, or of wondering what had become of my sister and my mother and father and what would become of me. — Arthur Golden

Bellamy leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take until she stopped being the last person he thought about before he fell asleep.

- Bellamy about Clarke — Kass Morgan

I see ... the way you're always searching. How much you hate anything fake or phony. How you're older than your years, but still ... playful, like a little girl. How you're always looking into people, or wondering what they see when they look back at you. Your eyes. It's all in the eyes. — Claudia Gray

You woke in the morning with the weight of doom on your head. You lay with eyes shut wondering why you dreaded the day; was it a debt, was it a lost love? -and then you remembered the nightmare ... This was no time for beauty, for love, or private future ... There was no future; everyone waited, marked time, waited. For what? — Dawn Powell

This wish to satisfy someone greater than the Self, to be found acceptable, to belong at last, is a struggle familiar to many psychotherapy patients. In their lives they waste themselves on wondering how they are doing, on trying to figure out the expectations of others so that they can become someone in the eyes of others. They try to be practical, to be reasonable, to figure it all out in their heads. It is as though if only they could get the words straight in their heads, if only they could find the correct formula, then everything else in their lives would be magically straightened out. They are sure there is a right way to do things, though they have not yet found it. Someone in authority must know ... It is as thought if it were discovered that two and two really did not equal four (but five), then at that moment all over the world every machine would stop operating, all of the lights would go out. (110) — Sheldon B. Kopp

Now very much against her will, she thought of the way Jace had looked at her then, the blaze of faith in his eyes, his belief in her. He had always thought she was strong. He had showed it in everything he did, in every look and every touch. Simon had faith in her too, yet when he'd held her, it had been as if she were something fragile, something made of delicate glass. But Jace had held her with all the strength he had, never wondering if she could take it
he'd known she was as strong has he was. — Cassandra Clare

Bye Bye , Father,' I said as the confessional door clicked shut behind me, 'Ah's' eyes following me, wondering, I suppose, what He'd been drinking the day he went and made a twilight zone of a disaster like me. — Patrick McCabe

I closed my eyes, wondering why it was no effort at all to call up the exact shade of his dark eyes, hostile as they were. I should be thinking about the bounty on our heads, not whether or not I'd get to see him again. Because of course I'd get to see him again; he'd probably try and stake one of my brothers, if not me. Hardly a promising start to a relationship.
Relationship?
What the hell was I thinking?
No doubt my impending birthday was making my head fuzzy. There was no other explanation. I just needed more sleep. — Alyxandra Harvey

Eleven o'clock had come and gone. I had to find a way to bring this conversation to a successful conclusion and get out of there. But before I could say anything, she suddenly asked me to hold her.
'Why?' I asked, caught off guard.
'To charge my batteries,' she said.
'Charge your batteries?'
'My body has run out of electricity. I haven't been able to sleep for days now. The minute I get to sleep I wake up, and then I can't get back to sleep. I can't think. When I get like that, somebody has to charge my batteries. Otherwise, I can't go on living. It's true.'
I peered into her eyes, wondering if she was still drunk, but they were once again her usual cool, intelligent eyes. She was far from drunk. — Haruki Murakami

When I introduced you to Mary Ann, I wanted to call you my girlfriend, Elli," he looked up at her to see her eyes were wide, "I've never had a girlfriend, so I'm not sure if I'll do the boyfriend/girlfriend thing right, but the thought of you being with someone else, or me with someone else, actually hurts my gut, so I guess what I'm trying to say is," he took a deep breath, this was huge, and he thought he sounded stupid but with the way her eyes were glazing over, maybe he was doing this right. "I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend." She smiled at him lovingly, cupping his face in her hands.
"Are you sure? I'm kinda crazy." He laughed, kissing her palm.
"I'm sure."
"Then, yes, Shea, I would love to be your girlfriend. — Toni Aleo

People think that it is in the tangle of bodies, in the actual congress, that one person invades another and takes possession of them; that it is on the bed that we give ourselves up. Well it is true that there is a surrender there that is unlike any other, but the real time they get under your skin is when you spend these hours alone preparing for them; imagining them. The hours when you find yourself wondering if these sheets would be too hot with two people under them. Or when you lie there on your back with both eyes open, as Mr F lies now, in the desperate early hours of that Monday morning, wishing that your nightmare would come back and plague you, just so that you can see your beloved one last time. — Neil Bartlett

Uh ... ," Ivy stammered, and I glanced up to see her eyes wide in consideration.
"I'm kidding," I said. "It passed the lethal-amulet test, remember?"
"Not that. You keep it in your underwear drawer?"
I hesitated, wondering why I was embarrassed. "Well, where do you put your elven magic?" I asked. — Kim Harrison

There were some that were of so rare a beauty that my pleasure on catching sight of them was enhanced by surprise. By what privilege, on one morning rather than another, did the window on being uncurtained disclose to my wondering eyes the nymph Glauconome, whose lazy beauty, gently breathing, had the transparence of a vaporous emerald beneath whose surface I could see teeming the ponderable elements that coloured it? She made the sun join in her play, with a smile rendered languorous by an invisible haze which was nought but a space kept vacant about her translucent surface, which, thus curtailed, became more appealing, like those goddesses whom the sculptor carves in relief upon a block of marble, the rest of which he leaves unchiselled. So, in her matchless colour, she invited us out over those rough terrestrial roads, from which, seated beside Mme. de Villeparisis in her barouche, we should see, all day long and without ever reaching it, the coolness of her gentle palpitation. — Marcel Proust

I had this rising premonition about him turning to look over at me, catching me in the act of sort of staring at him for no reason. It was a premonition with texture and heft, something I could almost taste; in my mind I saw his head begin to turn, casually, gradually but decisively, until his eyes found mine and held them. I stood ready for this to happen, wondering what I'd do, but he stayed put. — John Darnielle

Jo examined the work of art nearest her, idly wondering what fortuitous concatenation of circumstances needed the melodramatic illustration of an Indian in full war costume, tumbling over a precipice with a wolf at his throat, while two infuriated young gentlemen, with unnaturally small feet and big eyes, were stabbing each other close by, and a disheveled female was flying away in the background — Louisa May Alcott

Because I know." Daemon appeared in front of me, eyes narrowed. He thumped his hand off his chest, directly above his heart. "Because I know what I feel in here. And I'm not the type of person to run from anything, no matter how hard it is. I'd rather face-plant against a brick wall than live for the rest of my life wondering what could've been. And you know what? I don't think you were the type to run either. Maybe I was wrong — Jennifer L. Armentrout

She opened her eyes slowly and saw that a pale lavender moth had come to a rest on the back of her hand. She watched it from her pillow, wondering if it was real. It reminded her of her husband Matt's favorite T-shirt, which she'd hidden in a bag of sewing, unable to throw it away. It had a large faded moth on the front, the logo of a cover band out of Athens called the Mothballs.
That T-shirt, that moth, always brought back a strange memory of when she was a child. She used to draw tattoos of butterflies on her arms with Magic Markers. She would give them names, talk to them, carefully fill in their colors when they started to fade. When the time came that they wanted to be set free, she would blow on them and they would come to life, peeling away from her skin and flying away. — Sarah Addison Allen

Mother's tenderness toward my younger sisters caused more tears to pool in my eyes. I felt too old to be hugged and caressed by her, yet my body yearned for her touch; at least this once. I couldn't recall the last time she had shared the same warmth with me. The countless months of hardship had created an ocean of distance between us. It would be too awkward to hug her now. I sat across from her with tear-stained cheeks, wondering if she could feel my sadness and if she knew I loved her unconditionally. — Jennifer H. Lau

Two applesauce shots, please."
I gaped at her. "Shots? God, what are we, in college?"
She moved her wavy brown hair out of her eyes. "No, we don't have to be in college to have what I'm sure"- she looked at the bartender- "will be a fantastically prepared, perhaps overflowing shot."
He laughed with a shake of his head. "You got it."
"It's delicious," she said to me, "Goldschlager and something else. I don't remember. But it totally tastes like applesauce."
"Why would anyone want to drink applesauce?" But I was already wondering if it could be reduced to a glaze for pork chops, and made a mental note to find out what was in it. — Beth Harbison

But, in the ocean of faces where every fierce and furious expression was in vivid life, there were two groups of faces - each seven in number - so fixedly contrasting with the rest, that never did sea roll which bore more memorable wrecks with it. Seven faces of prisoners, suddenly released by the storm that had burst their tomb, were carried high overhead: all scared, all lost, all wondering and amazed, as if the Last Day were come, and those who rejoiced around them were lost spirits. Other seven faces there were, carried higher, seven dead faces, whose drooping eyelids and half-seen eyes awaited the Last Day. Impassive faces, yet with a suspended - not an abolished - expression on them; faces, rather, in a fearful pause, as having yet to raise the dropped lids of the eyes, and bear witness with the bloodless lips, "THOU DIDST IT!" Seven — Charles Dickens

Noah sits up, and when I try to duck out of reach, he advances like a tiger and flips me so that I'm lying flat on the bed. He presses his palms onto the comforter on both sides of my head, and his dark eyes bore into mine. My heart pounds wildly and, because I can't help myself, I reach up and touch his face, sliding my fingers over the rough shadow of his jaw.
Noah leans into my touch, and I love that I have that effect on him. I lick my lips, half hoping he kisses me - half wondering what would happen if he did. — Katie McGarry

I'm not looking thru you Kami, I'm looking into you. I'm standing here, wondering how the hell a girl so beautiful could hold so much sadness in her gorgeous green eyes. And I'm asking myself why I want- no- why I NEED to know what's made her so sad. And what I can do to take away every ounce of that sadness. I need to know what it will take for you to let me in, so I can do just that. — S.L. Jennings

they had a weazen little baby, with a heavy head that it couldn't hold up, and two weak staring eyes, with which it seemed to be always wondering why it had ever been born. It — Charles Dickens

He's paying the price and wondering for what sin and telling himself that he's been too selfish. In what act or thought of his has there ever been a self? What was his aim in life? Greatness
in other people's eyes. Fame, admiration, envy
all that which comes from others. Others dictated his convictions, which he did not hold, but he was satisfied that others believed he held them. Others were his motive power and his prime concern. He didn't want to be great, but to be thought great. He didn't want to build, but to be admired as a builder. He borrowed from others in order to make an impression on others. There's your actual selflessness. — Ayn Rand

As soon as he turns the key, a man with a heavy British accent starts talking about giants not being meant to live in groups.
"That's . . . Hagrid."
"Order of the Phoenix," Aaron says. "I got the full set as a Christmas present from Mom and Tay, since I'm in the car so much. I've read the books, of course, but . . . nice to listen to them, too."
And so we listen for the next ninety minutes. Well, Aaron and I listen. Taylor is asleep ten minutes in.
I close my eyes and try to lose myself in the story. The entire trip, I only check my phone twice. That's the closest I've been to relaxed all day.
Harry is just wondering whether Cho cried because of Cedric Diggory or because he's a rotten kisser when Molly speaks up. — Rysa Walker

When you are a Protector, in darkness you see the world through different eyes and the line between Beast and Savior is so thin, you find yourself wondering if it was ever there to begin with.

The beat of a heart makes your soul ache, instincts so raw fighting them seems futile and until you are marked, the world holds its breath as within you lies the power to destroy them all. — Kathryn Robson

So where do you want me?" she finally asked in order to fill the stifling silence.

Something blazed in his eyes for a second, a quick flash that brightened the ebony of his impassive gaze. Then whatever it was disappeared so fast she was left wondering if she'd really seen anything at all.

Nah, she decided, surely not, because that would mean she fired some emotion in him, and as far as she knew, the man was a complete cyborg. — Julie Ann Walker

Alex moved closer to me, never taking his eyes from mine. "What if your eternity doesn't start when you die?" he asked carefully. "What if your eternity has been going on since before you were born?"
I stared at him with a blank face, wondering what drugs he was on. — Angela Corbett

I'm extremely proud of what I have achieved. I've travelled around the world twice, went from rolling quarters for cigarettes, balling my eyes out, wondering what I was going to do after losing three million dollars, to being very financially comfortable, to buying a Mercedes G Wagon to being able to get whatever I want and living in a beautiful apartment in West Hollywood, furnished exactly how I want it. Life is incredible. — Shane Bunting

If I could describe "human being" I would be more than I am - and would probably be living in the future, because I think of human beings as something to be realized ahead....But clearly "human beings" have something to do with the luminous image you see in a bright child's eyes - the exploring, wondering eagerly grasping, undestructive quest for life. I see that undescribed spirit as central to us all. — James Tiptree Jr.

The truth of the matter is one knows what it's like being the president. Not I, nor any president to come hence. This is because life, thankfully, offers deeper quandaries. While in office, I would often wake up in a daze, wondering how I could wiggle my toes without even thinking it so, or why hair grows only on certain places and not our entire bodies, or why we aren't completely bald, or why we must close our eyes and sleep every night, or any of the millions of particulars of daily existence, let alone that I was elected the leader of an entire nation. — George Washington

I've considered everything you said earlier. I've made a decision. But first I'd like to explain that it has nothing to do with your personal endowments, which are quite considerable. It's just that - "
"My personal endowments?"
"Yes. Your intelligence. Your attractiveness."
"Oh."
Wondering why his voice sounded odd, Amelia darted a questioning glance at him. The amber eyes were bright with laughter. What had she said to amuse him? "Are you paying attention?"
"Believe me, when my personal endowments are being discussed, I always pay attention. Go on. — Lisa Kleypas

Gripping her hips in his hands, he thrust into her, and her eyes closed, her head tilting to the side as he pumped in and out of her, wondering how a quickie in the back of a limo could be the hottest sex he'd had in a long time. It's her. It's always been her. — Codi Gary

When I didn't say anything, he came closer, dropping slowly to his haunches so we were at eye level. My eyes searched his gorgeous face and for once, I wished I could break my own damn rules. I had a feeling Braden would be able to make me forget everything for a while.
We gazed at one another for what seemed like forever, not saying a word. I was expecting a lot of questions since it must have been clear to everyone, or at least the adults at the table, that I had had a panic attack. Surely, they were all wondering why, and I really didn't want to go back out there.
"Better?" Braden finally asked softly.
Wait. Was that it? No probing questions?
"Yeah." No, not really.
He must have read my reaction to his question in my face because he cocked his head to the side, his gaze thoughtful. "You don't need to tell me."
I cracked a humorless smile. "I'll just let you think I'm bat-shit crazy."
Braden smiled back at me. "I already know that. — Samantha Young

Robb got to his feet slowly and sheathed his sword, and Catelyn found herself wondering whether her son had ever kissed a girl in the godswood. Surely he must have. She had seen Jeyne Poole giving him moist-eyed glances, and some of the serving girls, even ones as old as eighteen ... he had ridden in battle and killed men with a sword, surely he had been kissed. There were tears in her eyes. She wiped them away angrily. — George R R Martin

You forgot 'dashingly handsome.' Dear friend is nice but hardly covers the extent of my qualities."

Eleanor looks up from her own letter writing. "How did she describe me? Because I have always preferred my eyes to be referred to as the 'color of a storm-tossed sea.' If either of you were wondering."

"You did not fare much better. In fact, I think I am ahead. I am a 'dear friend,' and you are merely 'recently ill. — Kiersten White

She asked him the question she had been asking herself for the past few days. "Why are you being so nice to me now?" J.D. leaned forward in his chair. He gazed directly into her eyes, and Payton suddenly found herself wondering why it had taken him eight years to look at her that way.
"Because you're letting me," he said softly. — Julie James

What makes her eyes slide o of mine? What does she see that angers her so, or infuriates her, or disgusts her? Why do I want to break her face o where her eyes do not meet mine? Why does she wear my sister's face? My daughter's mouth turned down about to suck itself in? The eyes of a furious and rejected lover? Why do I dream I cradle you at night? Divide your limbs between the food bowls of my least favorite animals? Keep vigil to you night after terrible night, wondering? Oh sister, where is that dark rich land we wanted to wander through together? ... [W]hose future image have we destroyed
your face or mine
without either how shall I look again at both
lacking either is lacking myself. — Audre Lorde

Finally, he reached for the bottle of lubricant, then found one of Zane's hands without breaking their kiss and squeezed some into his palm. Dazed, Zane dragged open his eyes as he panted and shivered under Ty, wondering what he was going to tell him to do. Zane would do anything right now to please him. To please them both. "Get — Abigail Roux

Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."
None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting. Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his
Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear
He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone. — J.K. Rowling

[T.J.] Without thinking, I held them out to her. She stopped laughing, and looked at me like she wasn't quite sure what I meant. I waited, and she leaned toward me and opened her mouth. I slid my fingers inside, wondering if my eyes were as big as hers. When she sucked the breadfruit off, my breathing got all messed up.
"More?"
She nodded, just barely, and her breathing didn't sound right either. I scooped up some breadfruit and this time, when I put my fingers in her mouth, she put her hand on my wrist.
I waited for her to swallow and then I lost my shit completely.
I grabbed her face with both hands, and I kissed her, hard. She opened her mouth and I slipped my tongue inside. I could have kissed her for days, and if she told me to stop I wasn't sure I'd be able to. — Tracey Garvis-Graves

He was an extravagantly obese man of sixty-four. A great apron of stomach fell so far down in front of his thighs that most people thought instantly of his penis when they first clapped eyes on him, wondering when he had last seen it, how he washed it, how he managed to perform any of the acts for which a penis is designed. — J.K. Rowling

American voices, country voices, high-pitched and without mercy. He lies freezing, wondering if the bedsprings will give him away. For possibly the first time he is hearing America as it must sound to a non-American. Later he will recall that what surprised him most was the fanaticism, the reliance not just on flat force but on the rightness of what they planned to do ... he'd been told long ago to expect this sort of thing from Nazis, and especially from Japs - we were the ones who always played fair - but this pair outside the door now are as demoralizing as a close-up of John Wayne (the angle emphasizing how slanted his eyes are, funny you never noticed before) screaming BANZAI! — Thomas Pynchon

You will think me rhapsodizing; but when I am out of doors, especially when I am sitting out of doors, I am very apt to get into this sort of wondering strain. One cannot fix one's eyes on the commonest natural production without finding food for a rambling fancy. — Jane Austen

Then Toohey moved through the crowd, and smiled at his friends. But between smiles and sentences, his eyes went back to the man with the orange hair. He looked at the man as he looked occasionally at the pavement from a window on the thirtieth floor, wondering about his own body were it to be hurled down and what would happen when it struck against that pavement. He did not know the man's name, his profession or his past; he had no need to know; it was not a man to him, but only a force; Toohey never saw men. Perhaps it was the fascination of seeing that particular force so explicitly personified in a human body. — Ayn Rand

I'm already scared out of my mind, mumbled Caitlyn as Meredith closed the bathroom door. She sat back down on the bed and pulled her legs into her chest, wondering if her crazy grandmother was going to come walking through that door naked, or worse, crawling around and pretending to howl at the moon. The thought sent a chill down her spine and tears to her eyes. — Kristen Middleton

If you search within your heart, you will find something there that will make it possible for you to understand: a spark of disenchantment and discontent, which if fanned into flame will become a raging forest fire that will burn up the whole of the illusory world you are living in, thereby unveiling to your wondering eyes the kingdom that you have always lived in unsuspectingly. — Anthony De Mello

O'er rivers, through woods,
With winding and weaves,
Their school bus sailed on
Through the new-fallen leaves.

When out on the road
There arose such a clatter,
They threw down their windows
To see what was the matter.

When what with their wondering eyes
Should they see,
But a miniature farm
And eight tiny turkey.

And a little old man
So lively and rugged,
They knew in a moment
It was Farmer Mack Nuggett.

He was dressed all in denim
From his head to his toe,
With a pinch of polyester
And a dash of Velcro.

And then in a twinkling
They heard in the straw
The prancing and pawing
Of each little claw.

More rapid than chickens
His cockerels they came.
He whistled and shouted
And called them by name:

"Now Ollie, now Stanley, now Larry and Moe,
On Wally, on Beaver, on Shemp and Groucho! — Dav Pilkey

Thank you, Isabella." Legna reached to squeeze the little Enforcer's dirty hand affectionately. "And do not worry about your hair. Gideon can fix it. Right, Gideon?"
"If you desire it."
Legna paused and looked up into the Demon's steady silver eyes, wondering why he'd worded his response in such a way. Was it her imagination, or had he directed that to her and not to Bella? However, he seemed just as indifferent as always, and she shrugged it off. — Jacquelyn Frank

The eyes were the same color, darker than mine, to the point that they didn't seem to have a pupil as they regarded me quizzically. "For such a small creature, you cause a lot of trouble." "So people ... keep telling me," I said, dizzy and weaponless, and wondering what this new hell was. — Karen Chance

Have you ever done anything in your life without wondering how it looked to someone else? Do you know what it is to do something as simple as genuinely smile or laugh without trying to see it through another person's eyes? I feel exhausted for you. — Hope Denney