A Blink Of An Eye Quotes

Consciousness ain't slower than a blink of an eye. ~ Toba Beta

I once asked a car-crash victim what it had felt like to be in a smashup. She said her eeriest memory was how one second the car was her friend, working for her, its contours designed to fit her body perfectly, everything smooth and sleek and luxurious, and then a blink of an eye later it had become a jagged weapon of torture- like she was inside an iron maiden. Her friend had become her worst enemy. ~ Jon Ronson

We lust after the material things in life, then in a blink of an eye; the life which was once given is taken; is there a point in stressing over the small stuff. ~ Epiphana Lewis

And there he stood looking like... RON WEASLEY to be precise….and that's where it all started.
People found him "boring" , "dumb" but did I really see what others couldn't ? Or was I blinded with that deep Infatuation.
Well he din't have the perfect body , his hair was always messy like a frizzy bear, stammered when he spoke but his flaws had swept me off by my feet like a Supernova. From the time we knew about each others existence on planet earth we din't really like each other reason being we had fought on a whole new level in a page on Facebook [ lame, but we were young].
Then as we reached high school… things became different, there was a drastic change.
"WE BECAME FRIENDS"
First it was really scary but as time passed we became inseparable. But I din't realize that amidst all that small inside jokes , teasing , recalling our embarassing past …I fell for him. And that too for the first time and believe me I fell hard. In a blink of an eye he who was a complete "moron" turned out to be the person who mattered the most to me. . . ~ Biipso

Nothing will happen with a blink of an eye. However, it takes a lot of strategies to do something. ~ Saaif Alam

The average human lifespan compared to the age of the universe is the same as comparing a blink of an eye to that human lifespan. Relatively speaking, short and long lifespans are the same. Both are non-existent compared to the infinite that's ahead. Furthermore, we cannot change the past, and have no guarantees for the future. We are only in charge of the present. The present is nothing - and it is everything. ~ John K. Brown

A blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. A span of life is nothing, But the man who lves that span, he is something ... A man must fill his life with meaning, meaning is not automatically given to life. It is hard work to fill one's life with meaning. ~ Chaim Potok

We live less than the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives against eternity. So it may be asked what value is there to a human life. There is so much pain in the world. What does it mean to have to suffer so much if our lives are nothing more than the blink of an eye? ... I learned a long time ago, Reuven, that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. ~ Chaim Potok

Elves are extremely long-lived -- the passing years are but a blink of an eye to them. What also sets them apart from us is the very narrow window during which they can procreate, and, as a natural consequence, their very low fertility. The Aen Seidhe believe this to be the main reason for their decline. As one of my elven friends put it, "Even though we fought like wolves, we lost to a race which fucks like rabbits. ~ David Hodgson

Years can go by in a blink of an eye and then you meet somebody and one day feels like eternity. ~ Kate Jarvik Birch

Life is over in a blink of an eye - so why waste your time being anything but happy that you've been given another day to live?" "Hey, ~ Rachel Van Dyken

I learned a long time ago, Reuven, that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. A span of life is nothing. But the man who lives that span, he is something. He can fill that tiny span with meaning, so its quality is immeasurable though its quantity may be insignificant. Do you understand what I am saying? A man must fill his life with meaning, meaning is not automatically given to life. ~ Chaim Potok

A shutter is clicked, a flash goes off and you've stopped time. If just for a blink of an eye. And if these pictures have anything to say to the future generation, it is this 'I was here, I existed, I was young, I was happy and someone cared enough about me in this world to take my picture. ~ S.J. Parrish

Already, it is later than you think for your earthly life at best, is only a blink of an eye between two eternities. ~ Og Mandino

Life is Quicker Than a Blink of an Eye ~ Jimi Hendrix

In this world we've created
Where this place that we live
in a blink of an eye the darkness slips in
Love lights the world
Unites the love that's for eternity. ~ Vanessa L. Williams

A blink of an eye is what separates you from reality. ~ Ljupka Cvetanova

The whirlwind of life.
Spinning so quickly you can loose sight.
But hold tight.
In a blink of an eye, time swallows light. ~ Ann Marie Frohoff

One thing I love about life and God: the creator of life.
Within a blink of an eye; things can change either good or bad. It depends on how you want it.
Good in the sense that luck will come to you; if you wish, want, need or even require the good changes.
But, bad same as good changes; but, if you are evil. The evil you did will bite you in the ass. Remember these quotes:
- You sow what you reap
- Karma is a bitch (if you are evil) or Karma is a blessing (if you are good)
- What goes around will eventually come around
- What goes up will come down
So be careful what you do to others.
That's why I am always cautious on the way I treat people. Yes; I am not perfect. But, I always try to be the best I can as a good and loving person despite my roots that is horrifying. ~ Temitope Owosela

There are 31.536.000 seconds in a year. I am counting down every second. ~ Ljupka Cvetanova

The frightened soul ran into the wine cellar with the steel door. I'm safe, Calloway thought, but he was dead wrong. Railrunner's claws slashed through the steel door. They cut through the metal like butter. He then began to pull the door off its hinges.
Suddenly a smoke bomb fell to the floor, making the place vaporous, but Railrunner's eyes could see through it. He discovered the flashing lights of squad cars. His eyes narrowed and he growled low in his throat.
"Come on out with your hands up!" an officer yelled.
Railrunner walked upright towards the entrance. He then pushed the doors off their hinges and stood in the line of fire.
"It's a - roller coaster?" One of the police said baffled, the gun shaking in his hand.
Railrunner crossly walked up to the police. They began to fire, their bullets simply bouncing off of him. He then grabbed the front bumper of the cruiser, and tossed it like a toy. It smashed into another car. Railrunner flung an officer out of his way and roared in sheer amusement. Within a blink of an eye he obliterated the small police force. ~ Miranda Leek

I fell in love with you in a blink of an eye, Ava. You represented everything I could ever want and the one thing I was most terrified to ask for. The power of what I was feeling scared me to my very core and made me love you and hate myself for being the wrong man for you ~ Diana T. Scott

I have always felt insignificant while thinking in-terms of Deep time, I have always dreaded the fact that however much we struggle, the monuments we build to keep us alive even after we are gone will be erased just in a snap of fingure or a blink of an eye and we will be no more. ~ Allan Amanyire

I thought you were good. That some part of you was good."
In a blink of an eye, Balthazar stood right in front of her. Arianne yelped. He took her wrist and brought the tip of the knife to the center of his chest. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up so she could look into the white center of his black irises. His silver hair rained over his forehead, covering the crease that marred its usual smoothness.
"You think I'm the good guy?" he whispered. She continued trembling, worse now. He leaned down until his lips touched her ear. "I'm not. ~ Kate Evangelista

Popularity does not happen overnight with a blink of an eye. It takes time, effort and creative knowledge to reach that particular goal in life. ~ Saaif Alam

Sometimes the futility of it all drives me crazy. It's so mindbogglingly brainless. We are on this tiny speck of soil and dirt which we call Earth, which won't even register anywhere in vastness if you start comparing it with the other objects in the universe and our existence is such a paltry blip on it, just like a blink of an eye. And, even though, all you have to do is to look at the sky to be reminded of your being so minuscule and your existence to be so worthless, we still have the nerve to make each other's lives miserable. ~ Amit Sharma

Just yesterday I was twenty and meeting some of these people⏤people that I'd spend my life with, that'd become my home.
Just yesterday I was twenty⏤still deeply and desperately in love with my best friend.
I grew older.
We all grow older.
In a blink of an eye, our children will grow old too.
And I'll think: just yesterday they were twenty. Headed for college. Falling in love. Memories will flood behind us, the lake house no longer filled to the brim. As quiet as the moment we first walked in⏤and we'll sit on this hill. Feeling the stillness that exists.
And then we end⏤we end where we started.
Just us.
All six of us. ~ Krista Ritchie

Do you see what I'm wearing?"
A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "I do." In a blink of an eye, his smile vanished. "But, to my misfortune, so does everyone else in this place. ~ Ada Adams

Measured against eternity, our time on earth is just a blink of an eye, but the consequences of it will last forever. ~ Rick Warren

Human beings do not live forever, Reuven. We live less than the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives against eternity. So it may be asked what value is there to a human life. There is so much pain in the world. What does it mean to have to suffer so much if our lives are nothing more than the blink of an eye?
I learned a long time ago, Reuven, that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. A span of life is nothing. But the man who lives that span, he is something. He can fill that tiny span with meaning, so its quality is immeasurable though its quantity may be insignificant. Do you understand what I am saying? A man must fill his life with meaning, meaning is not automatically given to life.
It is hard work to fill one's life with meaning. That I do not think you understand yet. A life filled with meaning is worthy of rest. I want to be worthy of rest when I am no longer here. ~ Chaim Potok

The girls are deeply shaken. There hasn't been an intruder in the Torre for a great while. I think it would go a long way if you were to join me tomorrow - to teach what you know."
For a long moment, he stared at her. Blinked.
"You realize I'm in this chair."
"And? Your mouth still works." Tart, crisp words.
He blinked again. "They might not find me the most reassuring instructor..."
"No, they'll likely be swooning and sighing over you so much they'll forget to be afraid."
His third and final blink made her smile slightly. Grimly. He wondered what that smile would look like if she ever was truly amused - happy.
"The scar adds a touch of mystery. ~ Sarah J. Maas

It's the kind of wisdom that someone acquires after a lifetime of learning and watching and doing. It's judgment And what Blink is - what all the stories and studies and arguments add up to - is an attempt to understand this magical and mysterious thing called judgment. ~ Malcolm Gladwell

Whenever I close my eyes, I see her. Scarlet. I see her smiling. I see her crying. I hear her laughter flowing through me, sending chills down my spine. The sound of her moaning creeps through my bloodstream, the face she makes in the throes of passion the pulse that spurs it on. Whatever this is I'm feeling, I want it to stop. I want it to go away. I want to stop fucking seeing her every time I blink. I want to stop fucking thinking about her every time I pause to take a deep breath. She's like an infection that's settling into my chest. I would rip out my own organs if I thought it might purge her from my system. ~ J.M. Darhower

He didn't move, didn't blink. He didn't seem like a man who heard no too often. Too bad. But he must have found something he liked, because he slowly undid his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt.

She would not drool.

He didn't have an ounce of fat on him. Austin had said Morgan was forty years old, but he didn't look it. Nor did he have the body of a twenty-year-old man. Callie didn't want that anyway. His body had aged beautifully and was clearly well cared for. He had some hair on his chest, but not much. The hair on his belly trailed down to beneath his dress pants and Callie did her best not to swallow her tongue.

She persevered.

Barely. ~ Carrie Ann Ryan

My head snaps in her direction. 'Stop that,' I say, standing in place.
'Stop what?' she asks.
'With this thing, this niceness.'
'What d-you-?'
'I'm kytaen, a tool. You're Chosen. We're not friends. That kind of word doesn't exist between our two species. Treat me how you're supposed to and stop this… act.'
A moment passes, and then she says, 'I see. So there's going to be no civility between us, eh?'
'I'm glad you finally understand.'
'I didn't exactly overlook your unsubtle hostility towards me.'
'Then why bother being nice?'
'I was raised to be polite to elderly people.'
'Then you should know I'm not old. I'm immortal.'
'Quit bragging'
I blink. 'I wasn't bragging, I was stating a fact.'
'It sounded like bragging to me.'
'It wasn't.'
'It sounded like it.'
'Well it wasn't.'
'Old men do tend to brag after all.'
'I wasn't bragging!'
She gives me an impish grin. 'They also lose their temper easily.'
I grit my teeth. ~ Giselle Simlett

I stand on a vast grass field of many gently sloping hills. It is night, yet the sky is bright. There is no sun, but a hundred blazing blue stars, each shining in a long river of nebulous cloud. The air is warm, pleasant, fragrant with the perfume of a thousand invisible flowers. In the distance a stream of people walk toward a large vessel of some type, nestled between the hills. The ship is violet, glowing; the bright rays that stab forth from it seem to reach to the stars. Somehow I know that it is about to leave and that I am supposed to be on it. Yet, before I depart, there is something I have to discuss with Lord Krishna.
He stands beside me on the wide plain, his gold flute in his right hand, a red lotus slower in his left. His dress is simple, as is mine - long blue gowns that reach to the ground. Only he wears a single jewel around his neck - the brilliant Kaustubha gem, in which the destiny of every soul can be seen. He does not look at me but toward the vast ship, and the stars beyond. He seems to be waiting for me to speak, but for some reason I cannot remember what he said last. I only know that I am a special case. Because I do not know what to ask, I say what is most on my mind.
"When will I see you again, my Lord?"
He gestures to the vast plain, the thousands of people leaving. "The earth is a place of time and dimension. Moments here can seem like an eternity there. It all depends on your heart. When you remember me, I am there in the blink o ~ Christopher Pike

She had taken it into her head that she was unappreciated by her family, misunderstood, uncared for.
When she went to bed at night she used to conjure up a pathetic scene of her death-bed, when too late her family had learned her worth. She would lie and blink at the patch of light made on the ceiling by Dolly's wash-stand candle, her throat swelling with self-pity.
...She went further still one night, and actually buried herself in an oak and silver coffin. ~ Ethel Turner

If you go back and look at the historical record, it turns out that a lot of important ideas have very long incubation periods. I call this the 'slow hunch.' We've heard a lot recently about hunch and instinct and blink-like sudden moments of clarity, but in fact, a lot of great ideas linger on, sometimes for decades, in the back of people's minds. They have a feeling that there's an interesting problem, but they don't quite have the tools yet to discover them." Solving the problem means being in the right place at the right time - available to the propitious moment, the kairos. Perhaps counterintuitively, protecting what is left of this flow from the pressing obligation of new choices gives us a leg up on innovation. ~ Douglas Rushkoff

Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem. Elsewhere in the universe, a star manyfold the mass of our third-rate sun is living out its final moments in a wild spin before collapsing into a black hole, its exhale bending spacetime itself into a well of nothingness that can swallow every atom that ever touched us and every datum we ever produced, every poem and statue and symphony we've ever known - an entropic spectacle insentient to questions of blame and mercy, devoid of why.
"In four billion years, our own star will follow its fate, collapsing into a white dwarf. We exist only by chance, after all. The Voyager will still be sailing into the interstellar shorelessness on the wings of the "heavenly breezes" Kepler had once imagined, carrying Beethoven on a golden disc crafted by a symphonic civilization that long ago made love and war and mathematics on a distant blue dot.
But until that day comes, nothing once created ever fully leaves us. Seeds are planted and come abloom generations, centuries, civilizations later, migrating across coteries and countries and continents. Meanwhile, people live and people die - in peace as war rages on, in poverty and disrepute as latent fame awaits, with much that never meets its more, in shipwrecked love.
I will die.
You will die.
The atoms that huddled for a cosmic blink around the shadow of a self will return to the seas that made us.
What will survive of us are shoreless ~ Maria Popova

Hey." Her host grabbed her by the back of the jacket and hauled her upright. "I'm not fishing you out again if you fall overboard."
Their eyes met. He wasn't kidding. "Not exactly a people person, are you?" she said.
He grimaced and released her. Tally turned back to the rail, oddly disconcerted by his touch, even through the jacket. She didn't lean as far out this time, but she strained to see in the growing darkness.
Tally suspected Arnaud's boat was probably Trevor Church's boat, and if that was the case, her father was not only going to be absolutely livid about the loss of property, he was also going to blow his stack if she didn't at least make an attempt to find Bouchard. Damn it.
"I'll pay you to help me find him," Tally said briskly, turning to face him.
An eyebrow rose. "Yeah? How much?"
"A thousand dollars." He didn't so much as blink at the offer. "Are you for real? Okay, two thousand."
"Only two? He couldn't've been very important to you."
She considered Bouchard a slimy turd, a necessary evil. On the other hand, the pirate wasn't going to risk his life and boat if he knew she felt that way. "Five? Ten? Twenty thousand? How much will it take?"
"How much you got on you?"
She held her arms out. "Not a whole hell of a lot. But I have traveler's checks back at-I'll buy your boat from you." She narrowed her eyes when he didn't answer. This was nuts. She was standing out here in the middle of a typhoon negotiating with ~ Cherry Adair

Thanks for getting me out of there," I murmur, lacing my fingers around my knees, and looking up at him on his step.
"Yeah. You looked a little green. "
"I don't handle crowds too well. I've always been that way, I guess."
"You might get in trouble," he warns, staring at me in that strange, hungry way that unravels me. He strokes his bottom lip with a finger. For a flash of a second, his eyes look strange. Different. All glowing irises and thin dark pupils. Almost drake-like. I blink to clear my vision. His eyes are normal again. Just my imagination in overdrive. I'm probably projecting missing home and Az - everything--onto him. "Pep rallies are mandatory," he continues. "A lot of people saw you leave. Teachers included."
"They saw you leave, too," I point out.
He leans to the side, propping an elbow on one of the steps behind him. "I'm not worried about that. I've been in trouble before." He smiles a crooked grin and holds up crossed fingers. "The principal and I are like this. The guy loves me. Really."
Laughter spills from me, rusty and hoarse.
His grin makes me feel good. Free. Like I'm not running from anything. Like I could stay here in this world, if only I have him.
The thought unsettles me. Sinks heavily in my chest. Because I can't have him. Not really. All he can ever be for me is a temporary fix.
"But you're worried I'll get in trouble?" I try not to show how much this pleases me. I've managed to ignore him for days n ~ Sophie Jordan

But no one can blink at the fact that in this land, and in other lands across the world, there is an epidemic affecting the lives of millions of youth. It is a sickness that comes of a loss of values, of an abandonment of moral absolutes. The virus which has infected them comes of leaderless families, leaderless schools, leaderless communities. It comes of an attitude that says, "We will not teach moral values. We will leave the determination of such to the individual." ~ Gordon B. Hinckley

I'm Chase." he said.
"Kind of an ironic name for a werewolf." The observation slipped easily off my tongue. The boy didn't blink. In fact, I was beginning to doubt that he'd blink once since I'd come into the room. "Werewolves do a lot of chasing." I explained.
"And your name is Chase. Hee. ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

That's what arrest is: it's a blinding flash and a blow which shifts the present instantly into the past and the impossible into omnipotent actuality.
That's all. And neither for the first hour nor for the first day will you be able to grasp anything else.
Except that in your desperation the fake circus moon will blink at you: "It's a mistake! They'll set things right!"
And everything which is by now comprised in the traditional, even literary, image of an arrest will pile up and take shape, not in your own disordered memory, but in what your family and your neighbors in your apartment remember: The sharp nighttime ring or the rude knock at the door.
The insolent entrance of the unwiped jackboots of the unsleeping State Security operatives. The frightened and cowed civilian witness at their backs. (And what function does this civilian witness serve? The victim doesn't even dare think about it and the operatives don't remember, but that's what the regulations call for, and so he has to sit there all night long and sign in the morning. 1 For the witness, jerked from his bed, it is torture too - to go out night after night to help arrest his own neighbors and acquaintances. ~ Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Ryder's in jeans and his shirt from last night, and he's staring at the fridge. When I pad closer, I see he's not just staring at the door. I've hung my various ultrasound pictures to the silvery surface, and he's studying them. His index finger is poised over my recent twenty-week one, and he's tracing the outline of the baby's legs.

"Hi," I say, clearing my throat.

He straightens and then smiles. It's a sheepish look, as if he's been caught. "Just checking out Papaya."

I love that the name Papaya has stuck. That must be a sign he feels the same. I gesture to the thirteen-week picture, when I first heard the heartbeat. "I think Papaya was a fig in that one. Funny thing - when I was so sick, Papaya was only a kidney bean."

"Kidney beans are known to be troublemakers." He steps closer, drops a strangely chaste kiss to my forehead, and sets his hands on my belly. "And I think Papaya is almost a mango now, right?"

I nod. "How did you know?"

"I might have googled pregnancy-to-fruit comparisons. Papaya will be an eggplant in a little while."

I blink. Holy shit. He really knows his pregnancy fruits. Better than I do. ~ Lauren Blakely

I had no idea kissing felt like this. Sensory overload.
At some point, Ren reluctantly let me down. He still supported my weight, which was good because I was ready to fall over. He cupped my cheek and ran a thumb slowly across my bottom lip. He stood close to me, keeping one arm wrapped around my waist. His other hand moved to my hair, and his fingers began to slowly twist the loose strands.
I had to blink my eyes a few times to clear my vision.
He laughed quietly. "Breathe, Kelsey." He had a very self-satisfied, smug grin on his face, which, for some reason, got my ire up.
"You seem very happy with yourself."
He raised an eyebrow. "I am."
I smirked back to him and said, "Well, you didn't ask for permission."
"Hmm, perhaps we should rectify that." He trailed his fingers up my arm, swirling little circles as he went. "Kelsey?"
I watched his progress and mumbled, distracted, "Yes?"
He stepped closer. "Do I-"
"Hmm?" I wiggled slightly.
"Have your-"
He started nuzzling my neck then moved up to my ear. His lips ticked me as he whispered, and I felt him smile, "Permission-"
Goose bumps broke out on my arms and I trembled.
"To kiss you?"
I nodded weakly. Standing on my tiptoes, I slipped my arms around his neck showing him that I was definitely giving permission. He trailed kisses from my ear across to my cheek in achingly slow motion, grazing along a path of his choosing. He stopped, hovering just over my ~ Colleen Houck

Apparently Lo- badass lady boss of fucking Hailstorm who had just negotiated a deal that saved two people I cared about after neutralizing an entire gang and watching a man be murdered, without even a blink- was a fucking romantic.
Go fucking figure. ~ Jessica Gadziala

The house smells like an Italian restaurant when I walk through the door. I turn to Logan, who shoots me a WTF look, and I shrug as if to say fuck if I know, because I honestly don't know. I bend down to unlace my scuffed black boots, then follow the mouthwatering aroma to the kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I blink like I've just stumbled upon a desert mirage.

Hannah's sexy ass greets my eyes. She's angled over the oven door, wearing Tuck's pink oven mitts as she pulls a steaming pan of lasagna off the middle shelf. At the sound of my footsteps, she glances over her shoulder and smiles. "Oh, hey. Perfect timing. ~ Elle Kennedy

Because I'm suffering from a seriously nasty case of I.L."
"Um," I lean away from him and blink several times, some of my smarmy romantic swoon fading away. I was hoping maybe he was here to confess; instead he came to tell me he has an STD? "Is it contagious?"
Zayden tosses his head back and laughs, dropping his chin down and leaning in to press his face against the side of my neck. ~ C.M. Stunich

I go downstairs and the books blink at me from the shelves. Or stare. In a trick of the light, a row of them seems to shift very slightly, like a curtain blown by the breeze through an open window. Red is next to blue is next to cream is adjacent to beige. But when I look again, cream is next to green is next to black. A tall book shelters a small book, a huge Folio bullies a cowering line of Quartos. A child's nursery rhyme book does not have the language in which to speak to a Latin dictionary. Chaucer does not know the words in which Henry James communicates but here they are forced to live together, forever speechless. ~ Susan Hill

The Moon is always there. A half blink of shadow, a crescent of an eyelash, opulent in fullness, spellbound in nothingness, and a friend. ~ Carolyn Riker

My hand is in his before I realize it. "We'll be going then," he says, and I nod. Of course, I will go with him. He's pretty, so very, very, pretty, and I would be a fool to say no to anything he asks of me.
I blink. No, I think. And then I manage to say it out loud.
"No."
He sits back with an angry huff, now exhausted with dark circles under his eyes. It's as though a fog has been lifted from my brain. Magic! He tried to use magic on me! And I realize it is not the first time. "If you ever try that again," I say, taking a sip of chocolate to wet my suddenly parched throat, "I will beat you silly with your own cane."
"This is the best day of my life," Eleanor says.
I cannot agree with her. ~ Kiersten White

Without imagination, things were only as they appeared - and that was blindness. Things were more than they appeared, so much more. When he considered an oak tree, it was not just a tree. To someone small, like an ant, it was a whole landscape of rugged barky cliffs and big green leaf-plains that quaked when the sky was restless, a place of many strange creatures where fearsome winged beasts could pluck and devour someone in a blink. ~ Jonathan Renshaw

Words work as release - well-oiled doors opening and closing between intention, gesture. A pulse in a neck, the shiftiness of the hands, an unconscious blink, the conversations you have with your eyes translate everything and nothing. What will be needed, what goes unfelt, unsaid - what has been duplicated, redacted here, redacted there, altered to hide or disguise - words encoding the bodies they cover. And despite everything the body remains. Occasionally it is interesting to think about the outburst if you would just cry out - To know what you'll sound like is worth noting - ~ Claudia Rankine

Stop looking at me like that," I say, frowning and rubbing at my chest. He has this habit of making my heart sore, making my lungs feel like there's not enough air.
He tilts his head attractively, which only makes matters worse. "Like what?"
"Like you're molesting me with your eyes," I blurt out.
His answering laugh is long and deep. I can barely handle the affection in his gaze. "Okay, I'll try to stop. But if it all gets to be too much for you, this apartment happens to have a very nice bathroom. You can go rub one out again to take the edge off. I'll come listen, too, if that will help."
There he goes again, pushing me.
I do a slow blink at him before coming out with a rather masterful comeback. And when I say "masterful," I mean shit. "Why don't you go and rub one out?"
He cocks an eyebrow. "I don't rub out, darlin'. I jack off. ~ L. H. Cosway

The power of knowing, in that first two seconds, is not a gift given magically to a fortunate few. It is an ability that we can all cultivate for ourselves. ~ Malcolm Gladwell

When they reached a maintenance closet, Iko ushered the escort-droid inside.
"I want you to know that I hold nothing against you," she said, by way of introduction. "I understand that it isn't your fault your programmer had so little imagination."
The escort-droid held her gaze with empty eyes.
"In another life, we could have been sisters, and I feel it's important to acknowledge that."
A blank stare. A blink, every six seconds.
"But as it stands, I'm a part of an important mission right now, and I cannot be swayed from my goal by my sympathy for androids who are less advanced than myself."
Nothing.
"All right then." Iko held out her hands. "I need your clothes. ~ Marissa Meyer

I can describe an axe entering a human skull in great explicit detail and no one will blink twice at it. I provide a similar description, just as detailed, of a penis entering a vagina, and I get letters about it and people swearing off. To my mind this is kind of frustrating, it's madness. Ultimately, in the history of [the] world, penises entering vaginas have given a lot of people a lot of pleasure; axes entering skulls, well, not so much. ~ George R R Martin

The sergeants are shunted forward and they blink and stare up at Gonzo as he leans on the edge of his giant mixing bowl. MacArthur never addressed his troops from a mixing bowl
not even one made from a spare geodesic radio emplacement shell
and certainly de Gaulle never did. But Gonzo Lubitsch does, and he does it as if a whole long line of commanders were standing at his shoulder, urging him on.
"Gentlemen," says Gonzo softly, "holidays are over. I need an oven, and I need one in about twenty minutes, or these fine flapjacks will go to waste, and that is not happening."
And something about this statement and the voice in which he says it makes it clear that this is simply true. One way or another, this thing will get done. Under a layer of grime and horror, these two are soldiers, and more, they are productive, can-do sorts of people. Rustily but with a gratitude which is not so far short of worship, they say "Yes, sir" and are about their business. ~ Nick Harkaway

Moshe was a tall Israeli with an ear-splitting laugh. He used it in the same way as a madman uses a gun, spraying it around with bewildering randomness. Hearing the laugh made me blink instinctively, like hearing a hammer pound on brick or metal. Our conversation was impeded by having to watch him through the strobe effect of my convulsing eyes. ~ Alex Garland

Have you ever thought about how weird it is? That, like, an infinite amount of time happened before we existed, and an infinite amount of time will happen after we're dead, and we're sitting here, living our lives, just a tiny blink of existence sandwiched between infinity? ~ Megan Jacobson

We live in a world that assumes that the quality of a decision is directly related to the time and effort that went into making it ... We believe that we are always better off gathering as much information as possible an depending as much time as possible in deliberation. We really only trust conscious decision making. But there are moments, particularly in times of stress, when haste does not make waste, when our snap judgments and first impressions can offer a much better means of making sense of the world. The first task of Blink is to convince you of a simple fact: decisions made very quickly can be every bit as good as decisions made cautiously and deliberately. ~ Malcolm Gladwell

and the word lost for a single breath, as I lie against you; I promise everything that ever was will grow alive again: the first man in his sudden ignorance spits a sour apple whole, turns to her, who will be no more than an ache in the bones of his heart, as you are for me; for this breath, in my arms, the rain falling through the moment's light; then let me rest for one day, for the strength to unmake myself; the beasts of the earth and the great whales, to shift continents into oceans, to take down the firmament and blink into the failing light, the failing darkness for a moment's breath, a moment's touch, brushing your heart like this, as all things fall back into themselves, leaving nothing in the beginning but the word. ~ John Glenday

Hotel Du Lac
Edith, once again anonymous, and accepting her anonymity, made an appropriately inconspicuous exit. And, sitting in the deserted salon, the first to arrive from the dining room, she felt her precarious dignity hard-pressed and about to succumb in the light of her earlier sadness. The pianist, sitting down to play, gave her a brief nod. She nodded back, and thought how limited her means of expression had become: nodding to the pianist or to Mme de Bonneuil, listening to Mrs Pusey, using a disguised voice in the novel she was writing and, with all of this, waiting for a voice that remained silent, hearing very little that meant anything to her at all. The dread implications of this condition made her blink her eyes and vow to be brave, to do better, not to give way. But it was not easy. ~ Anita Brookner

This is how my day usually goes.
I leave the faucet open and know what it's like
to have my fingers around a minuscule whirlpool,
and I cry, hoping if I do it for hours
the water will end up tasting like the ocean,
just so I could get myself half-drowning.
I don't know how to float on water.
This is the closest thing I will ever get to breathing
without forcing my lungs to turn into a garbage truck,
or a car alarm, or anything that can get my neighbors
out of their doors. Maybe if I blink my eyes
as fast as I can, I will end up having lightning
for tears because that's how much they hurt.
There is the constant banging on my door.
On my bedside table is an empty mug
that was once made with everything close
to tasting like beautiful and patient and calm.
And I am not. I am stepping on my own leash.
my skin has purple circles, my eyes has been spending
too many hours pretending to be an Olympic pool,
when it's too little to even be a sink. Last night,
I realized, the tap water will never taste like tears,
no matter how many hours I spent bending.
The banging on my bedroom door will never stop.
I wonder how long I can keep this up until I remember
that there's always a limit to pain, and none to love. ~ Kharla M. Brillo

With the toss of one last cardigan, I reveal … nothing. The suitcase is empty.

I blink. My charger isn't here. There is literally nowhere else it could be.

I know it's not in my purse.

I check my purse for a third time anyway.

It's not even like I can borrow one. Deciding to be an Android in an iPhone family? Literally the worst decision ever right now. ~ Marisa Kanter

I have seen them stagger out of their movie palaces and blink their empty eyes in the face of reality once more, and stagger home, to read the Times, to find out what's going on in the world. I have vomited at their newspapers, read their literature, observed their customs, eaten their food, desired their women, gaped at their art. But I am poor, and my name ends with a soft vowel, and they hate me and my father, and my father's father, and they would have my blood and put me down, but they are old now, dying in the sun and in the hot dust of the road, and I am young and full of hope and love for my country and my times, and when I say Greaser to you it is not my heart that speaks, but the quivering of an old wound, and I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done. ~ John Fante

I scurry out to the three-way mirror. With an extra-large sweatshirt over the top, you can hardly tell that they are Effert's jeans. Still no Mom. I adjust the mirror so I can see reflections of reflections, miles and miles of me and my new jeans. I hook my hair behind my ears. I should have washed it. My face is dirty. I lean into the mirror. Eyes after eyes after eyes stare back at me. Am I in there somewhere? A thousand eyes blink. No makeup. Dark circles. I pull the side flaps of the mirror in closer, folding myself into the looking glass and blocking out the rest of the store. My face becomes a Picasso sketch, my body slicing into dissecting cubes. I saw a movie once where a woman was burned over eighty percent of her body and they had to wash all the dead skin off. They wrapped her in bandages, kept her drugged, and waited for skin grafts. They actually sewed her into a new skin. ~ Laurie Halse Anderson

I'd caught what cameras call an updraft: just as the viewers got over the first rush of interest, others smelled the excitement and tuned in. The surprise of the newcomers strengthened the scent, attracting still more people, in a spiral that could make the feedback escalate out of control. Wave upon wave of astonishment crashed through me. I tried to look down, but the curiosity of millions forced my head back up. I stood there staring at the whale like someone forced to look into the sun, unable to turn away, though my mind cringed from the sight and my eyes were burning. It was not just an updraft, but riptide: feedback so strong that it flooded out my own emotions and derailed my thoughts. The audience grew so large and so greedy that it wouldn't even let me blink. ~ Raphael Carter

Well?" Nat says after a few seconds. "I'm surprised you're here again, Harriet. I thought you'd be busy auditioning for A Midsummer Night's Dream."
I blink a few times in surprise. "No. I'm not."
"You should be. I heard they're looking for an ass."
Oh. Now why can't I think of quips like that when I need them? ~ Holly Smale

I am thinking of beauty again, how some things are hunted because we have deemed them beautiful. If, relative to the history of our planet, an individual life is so short, a blink, as they say, then to be gorgeous, even from the day you're born to the day you die, is to be gorgeous only briefly. ~ Ocean Vuong

He stared at me. "She liked you, boy." The intensity of his voice and eyes made me blink.
"Yes," I said.
"She did it for you, you know."
"What?"
"Gave up her self, for a while there. She loved you that much. What an incredibly lucky kid you were."
I could not look at him. "I know."
He shook his head with a wistful sadness. "No, you don't. You can't know yet. Maybe someday ... "
I knew he was tempted to say more. Probably to tell me how stupid I was, how cowardly, that I blew the best
chance I would ever have. But his smile returned, and his eyes were tender again, and nothing harsher
than cherry smoke came out of his mouth. ~ Jerry Spinelli

Howard thought, Is it not true: A move of the head, a step to the left or right, and we change from wise, decent, loyal people to conceited fools? Light changes, our eyes blink and see the world from the slightest difference of perspective and our place in it has changed infinitely: Sun catches cheap plate flaking
I am a tinker; the moon is an egg glowing in its nest of leafless trees
I am a poet; a brochure for an asylum is on the dresser
I am an epileptic, insane; the house is behind me
I am a fugitive. His despair had not come from the fact that he was a fool; he knew he was a fool. The despair came from the fact that his wife saw him as a fool, as a useless tinker, a copier of bad verses from two-penny religious magazines, an epileptic, and could find no reason to turn her head and see him as something better. ~ Paul Harding

Small talk was an art form, one of those things that made people's eyes gloss over. Go silent, and they might start wondering why. But keep them talking about nothing at all, and they wouldn't even blink. ~ V.E. Schwab

Writing an autobiography, usually thought of as a looking back, can just as well be a looking across or through, with the passing of time giving an X-ray quality to the eye. ~ Janet Frame

Even more confused than before, I started backing up. I'd go around and get in through the kitchen; David and Raquel had to know what was going on. Unfortunately for all of us, that was when Lend came out the front door, immediately collapsed with a thunk that made me cringe, and - perfect - went completely transparent.
The police officers stopped fighting, every eye glued on my boyfriend, now essentially invisible other than this T-shirt and flannel pajama pants.
"Okay," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "No. This is unacceptable. I don't care what the bleep is going on, we're going to get it settled immediately or I swear I will give you all to the Dark Queen and let her feed on your dreams for the rest of eternity."
Every head turned my direction, their faces a portrait of shock and disbelief.
"What, you've never seen a boy made of water before? Yawn. Go down to the pond - it'll really blow your mind."
One close to the front - barrel-chested, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache - shook his head as though trying to clear it. "Are you Evelyn Green?"
"Sort of. Mostly. I mean, legally. Again, sort of."
He tried to look at me, but his eyes kept drifting back to Lend. "You're under - We're here to - Could you please come with us?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, I couldn't. You're last place in a very long line of people who want me right now. Besides, I haven't done anything."
"Actually," said a painfully tall an ~ Kiersten White