Reading Eyes Quotes

Once you start reading the eyes, you need no words! ~ Kalpana Bhandari

Cruel of heart, lay down my song. Your reading eyes have done me wrong. Not for you was the pen bitten, And the mind wrung, and the song written. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Gold," said Jaime. "You do like gold?" Urswyck studied him through reddened eyes. "It has its uses, I do confess. ~ George R R Martin

Spend the night with me." ( ... )
"I'm tired of living like I'm not alive." He dropped his hands from my face to grip my shoulders. "I'm bloody sick to death of it. I want one night to be alive. With you." He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on mine.
"Please, Anna. One last night and we'll go back to being safe again. I need this. I need you. ~ Wendy Higgins

Love me unconditionally, so I can start learning to love myself, Senior Chief.
Expect only the best from me, and I'll give it to you, Senior Chief.
Give me shit when I slip and deserve shit because that's further proof that I matter to you, Senior Chief.
Be my hero, Senior chief, and never let me down.
In the past, it had been a burden at times
his role of the infallible hero, the mighty senior chief
but it had never been so heavy as it was right now.
Because he'd seen something else in Teri Howe's eyes, something different, something he'd never seen in all of the hopeful young faces that had come before.
Kiss me, Senior Chief. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

Is it hard to be with all those men? All day? Every day?"
Annwyl drank some of Morfyd's wine. She knew no threat of infection remained, but the wine still tasted unbelievably delicious.
"Not at all."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. Just let one of the men touch you inappropriately and you take his arm off right at the shoulder joint. Then, as he's bleeding to death, you slam his face into a few things, and you'll find the other men leave you alone."
Morfyd stared at Annwyl with wide eyes. "What?"
Morfyd cleared her throat. "Nothing. ~ G.A. Aiken

Aldrik laughed darkly. "What did you think I was?" he snarled. "Did you think I went to war and read books?" Vhalla took another step back. "You ran head-first into my daily hell. Would it not be more convenient if weapons of death and torture could not talk back?" Vhalla forced herself not to tremble as she looked at him. He glared at her; the orange of the fire reflecting in the black mirrors of his eyes.
With all the bravery she possessed, Vhalla crossed the distance between them; he straightened and looked down at her, imposing. Vhalla swallowed hard and tried to muster her last scrap of confidence. There would be time later to ask him about the real reasons behind the war. For now, they needed to go home.
She grabbed his hand, praying it didn't burst into flames at her touch. It didn't.
"Quit being stupid, Aldrik. Let's go." His features barely softened, but it was more than enough to know she had made herself clear. Whatever this man was, he wasn't a monster. ~ Elise Kova

Are you carrying gold?" I asked sweetly.
He frowned.
"No? Silver? Lead? Copper?" I made big, innocent eyes at him. "A girl out in the brush doesn't need credit chits, Mr. House Gray. What do you have in your pockets that's worth my hospitality?"
One of the Neds coughed, and I realised that could have been taken in a very different manner.
Abraham flashed me a wicked smile.
"Don't flatter yourself," I said before he opened his mouth. ~ Devon Monk

Open your eyes, baby. Look at me." He pressed his forehead down to meet mine, my eyelids fluttering open at his command. "Look at me and tell me you don't want it."
I peered up at him with unsteady breaths, hearing his throat work when I tilted my lips to graze his. The contact was feather light, my heart hammering through my chest at the feel of it. "I'm looking," I breathed against him.
"Good. Because right now, all I want to do is rip your clothes off and make you come until you can't stand, and I want your eyes on me the whole time, are we clear?"
-Jackson and Emma ~ Rachael Wade

In war everyone loses. This brutal truth can be seen in the eyes of every solider in every world. ~ Steven Erikson

If her eyes had captured him; her smile enslaved him... ~ Gregory Allen

His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful!
Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips. ~ Mary Shelley

People who have been made to suffer by certain things cannot be reminded of them without a horror which paralyses every other pleasure, even that to be found in reading a story. ~ Stendhal

If our religion is something objective, then we must never avert our eyes from those elements in it which seem puzzling or repellent; for it will be precisely the puzzling or the repellent which conceals what we do not yet know and need to know. ~ C.S. Lewis

He was close enough so that I could see his face clearly, even with his helmet's cheek flaps tied tightly under his bearded chin. I looked into the eyes of Hector, prince of Troy. Brown eyes they were, the colour of rich farm soil, calm and deep. No anger, no battle lust. He was a cool and calculating warrior, a thinker among these hordes of wild, screaming brutes. He wore a small round shield buckled to his left arm instead of the massive body-length type most of the other nobles carried. In it was painted a flying heron, a strangely peaceful emblem in the midst of all this mayhem and gore. ~ Ben Bova

I'm not concerned. You can date and marry and have babies with your muffin-lady, if that's what you want."

His eyes held mine, and his expression softened and heated up at the same time. "You said you didn't want to go out with me, so all I'm left with is my muffin-lady. ~ Noelle Adams

When we are able to see the choices we make through the eyes of self-acceptance, we are transformed. ~ Jodi Livon

There is such dissociation between what the eyes see and what the mind envisions. The final thought is just a matter of interpretation, coloured by our experiences. ~ Anirban Bose

Mari managed to fall asleep now and then, only to awaken with a start of fear that she had been making noise. "Do I snore when I'm sleeping?"she finally whispered to Alain.
He didn't answer.
"Alain? Are you awake?"
"Yes," he's reply finally came. "I just do not know which answer would be right."
"Just tell me!"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Mari moved her eyes enough to glance at Alain. "Loud or soft?"
"Sometimes."
"Does it ever bother you?"
Alain hesitated again. "Sometimes."
"Are you going to give me any plain yes or no answers to this?"
"Not if I can avoid doing so," he replied. ~ Jack Campbell

Ut it's one of the reflections of our times. Young minds today are dulled by television and other visual sensations. When reading was one of the few pleasures available, we could recite whole passages to eachother. ~ Gloria Naylor

Good-bye, Cadan,' I said, backing out the door.
'If I hear anything new, I'll come to you.'
'Be careful,' I warned. 'My guard dog bites.'
He grinned, and that impish gleam returned to his eyes. 'And you don't?'
'Wouldn't you like to know.'
'Don't get me excited. ~ Courtney Allison Moulton

In a polite age almost every person becomes a reader, and receives more instruction from the Press than the Pulpit. ~ Oliver Goldsmith

I couldn't take my eyes from those plumes of spray, the churning shards of light. Was this what the old man was afraid of? I tried to think of poor dead Snowy Muir but death was hard to imagine when you had these blokes dancing themselves across the bay with smiles on their faces and sun in their hair. I couldn't have put words to it as a boy, but later I understood what seized my imagination that day. How strange it was to see men do something beautiful. Something pointless and elegant, as though nobody saw or cared. ~ Tim Winton

One of my biggest goals, especially with writing YA novels, is just to have people enjoy reading. ~ Lauren Conrad

I grabbed Aunt Prue's tiny hand, her fingers as small as bare twigs in winter. I closed my eyes and took her other hand, twisting my strong fingers together with her frail ones. I rested my forehead against our hands and closed my eyes. I imagined lifting my head up and seeing her smiling, the tape and tubes gone. I wondered if wishing was the same thing as praying. If hoping for something badly enough could make it happen. ~ Kami Garcia

That horrible stinging sensation returned, the muscles behind my eyes straining as the first tear began to fall. I'm scared, too. For eighteen months now, I've lived in terror, fearing everything and everyone. I don't want to be scared anymore. The only time I've ever felt safe is in your arms. I love you, and I just want to let you in all the way. So please. Please fill me with love, because I can't bear to be filled with fear anymore. It's suffocating me. ~ Devon Ashley

It means what it says," he managed, staring at her again. "There's not a lot of subtlety in this particular strip."
She took the paper back from him and stuck it in her pocket. It was something she intended to keep forever. "You've used me rather lavishly in your work recently." She had to tilt back her head in order to keep her eyes level with his. Grant thought she looked more regal than ever. If she turned her thumb down, she could throw him to the lions. "Didn't it occur to you to ask permission first?"
"Artist's privilage." He felt the light spray hit his back, saw it dampen her hair. "Where the hell did you go?" he heard himself demand. "Where the hell have you been?"
Her eyes narrowed. "That's my business, isn't it?"
"Oh,no." He grabbed her arms and shook. "Oh,no,it's not.You're not going to walk out on me."
Gennie set her teeth and waited until he'd stopped shaking her. "If memory serves,you did the walking figuratively before I did it literally."
"All right! I acted like an idiot. You want an apology?" he shouted at her. "I'll give you any kind you want. I'll-" He broke off, his breath heaving. "Oh,God,first."
And his mouth crushed down on hers, his fingers digging into her shoulders. The groan that was wrenched from him was only one more sign of a desperate need. She was here,she was his.He'd never let her go again. ~ Nora Roberts

No happy marriage was, in his estimation, ever based on thoughtless, automatic untruths and exclusions. And the best way to make someone unhappy, if not downright unbalanced, is to tell her that what she sees with her own eyes is not there at all. ~ Catherine Ryan Hyde

Taking the alphabet first and learning one letter a year for twenty-six years he will be able to read and write as early in life as he ought to. If we were more careful not to teach our children to read in their childhood we should not be so anxious about the effects of pernicious literature upon their adolescent morals. ~ John Kendrick Bangs

Just rest and soon enough, you'll be home. I assured her as she slowly closed her eyes and the smile on her face faded. ~ Grace Fiorre

When she spun around to face Luce and the angels, Dee looked as if she were going to say something. Instead, she sank to her knees and lay down on her back at the foot of the Qayom Malak. Daniel lurched toward her, ready to help, but she waved him away. The toes of her shoes rested on the base of the Qayom Malak; her slender arms stretched over her head so that her fingertips grazed the Silver Pennon. Her body spanned the distance precisely.
She closed her eyes and lay still for several minutes.
Just when Luce was beginning to wonder whether Dee had fallen asleep, Dee said, It's a good thing I stopped growing two thousand years ago. ~ Lauren Kate

Professor Smith has kindly submitted his book to me before publication. After reading it thoroughly and with intense interest I am glad to comply with his request to give him my impression.

The work is a broadly conceived attempt to portray man's fear-induced animistic and mythic ideas with all their far-flung transformations and interrelations. It relates the impact of these phantasmagorias on human destiny and the causal relationships by which they have become crystallized into organized religion.

This is a biologist speaking, whose scientific training has disciplined him in a grim objectivity rarely found in the pure historian. This objectivity has not, however, hindered him from emphasizing the boundless suffering which, in its end results, this mythic thought has brought upon man.

Professor Smith envisages as a redeeming force, training in objective observation of all that is available for immediate perception and in the interpretation of facts without preconceived ideas. In his view, only if every individual strives for truth can humanity attain a happier future; the atavisms in each of us that stand in the way of a friendlier destiny can only thus be rendered ineffective.

His historical picture closes with the end of the nineteenth century, and with good reason. By that time it seemed that the influence of these mythic, authoritatively anchored forces which can be denoted as religious, had been reduced to a tolerable level in ~ Albert Einstein

A Photographer's Poem

To take a photograph is to learn new steps
Like a toddler's first walk from start to end
Visualize a dream, a paradigm, a theme
It could be about anywhere, anyone, any moment or anything
Let that sink in until your eyes see clearly
What image you cease to create to preserve in dearly
With a camera you take the picture in mind
A photographer's mistake is to leave it behind
Take it wherever a journey is to take place
There will always be something that comes across your ways ~ S.S. Lorenzo

Great growth comes from loneliness. You have time to develop, dwell in your own mind and go a bit mad. All the great people are a bit mad. That's good to remember. Don't escape it.

Great growth comes from time spent in foreign lands, watching foreign people with foreign cultures. It makes you forget about your own land and race and town for a while. Great growth also comes from rooting yourself into one place from time to time. Unpack your bags, get a nice bed, a bookshelf, some friends. Learn to show up, keep in touch, stick around.

Growth comes in all sorts of forms and shapes, everywhere at all times, and it's yours to take and consume. Do what ought to be done. Here and now, to get you somewhere - anywhere. ~ Charlotte Eriksson

Every artist creates with open eyes what she sees in her dream. ~ Marge Piercy

But most of all I learned how not to be watched. ... that look of temporary possession that some men gave... And even at twelve years old, the knowledge of it was already in the way I moved my head, my hands, my shoulders. ... I had to stop being alert to the turn of a man's head toward me. Stop glancing up to meet his gaze in fleeting connection. Stop falsely veiling my eyes from his momentary interest. ~ Alison Goodman

Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him. ~ Charles Dickens

To a clear eye the smallest fact is a window through which the infinite may be seen. ~ Thomas Henry Huxley

Hey there," she said, her blue eyes shimmering.
Collin swallowed hard, and took her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest. "Hey, yourself," he murmured into her hair, and kissed her head. He held her there for as long as he could without it becoming awkward, then gripped her shoulders and stepped back. ~ Tracy March

The reality is in this head. Mine. I'm the projector at the planetarium, all the closed little universe visible in the circle of that stage is coming out of my mouth, eyes, and sometimes other orifices also. ~ Thomas Pynchon

I'd always thought it was gaudy, but standing there watching him beside the gold and glass shrine, I realised that his was a candlelight faith. It didn't work in the clear unforgiving light in London or Scandinavia, where even the dust in the cathedrals showed. But in the warm dimness and the shadows, what would have been tasteless at home made sense. The shrine looked like an oil painting made into real substance. So did he. England's was a reading religion, one it was difficult to understand at the bleak unimpressive first glance, one that needed books to explain itself. But his was images and images, the same as the old stages, in a place where not everyone could read and good light was expensive. ~ Natasha Pulley

Later, at the sink in our van, Mama rinsed the blue stain and the odd spiders, caterpillars, and stems from the bucket.
"Not what we usually start with, but we can go again tomorrow. And this will set up nicely in about six, eight jars."
The berries were beginning to simmer in the big pot on the back burner. Mama pushed her dark wooden spoon into the foaming berries and cicrcled the wall of the pot slowly.
I leaned my hot arms on the table and said, "Iphy better not go tomorrow. She got tired today." I was smelling the berries and Mamaa's sweat, and watching the flex of the blue veins behind her knees.
"Does them good. The twins always loved picking berries, even more than eating them. Though Elly likes her jam."
"Elly doesn't like anything anymore."
The knees stiffened and I looked up. The spoon was motionless. Mama stared at the pot.
"Mama, Elly isn't there anymore. Iphy's changed. Everything's changed. This whole berry business, cooking big meals that nobody comes for, birthday cakes for Arty. It's dumb, Mama. Stop pretending. There isn't any family anymore, Mama."
Then she cracked me with the big spoon. It smacked wet and hard across my ear, and the purple-black juice spayed across the table. She started at me, terrified, her mouth and eyes gaping with fear. I stared gaping at her. I broke and ran.
I went to the generator truck and climbed up to sit by Grandpa. That's the only time Mama ever hit me and I knew I deserve ~ Katherine Dunn

This is the nature of sorrow; often it fades with time, but once in a while it remains lodged below the surface of things, a stubborn thorn beneath a fingernail, making itself felt every time you brush against it. (How well I knew this, for random events would startle me into the memory of a pair of ancient eyes.) ~ Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

Doctor, my eyes cannot see the sky. Is this the prize for having learned how not to cry? ~ Jackson Browne