Quotes About Staring

What bothers you isn't so much whether you're beautiful or not. What bothers you is the way that people stare.

The way my body works, people are always going to stare at me. It's just human nature.

It would be more weird if people didn't stare at me or shout at me.

You'd think that radio was around long enough that someone would have coined a word for staring into space.

Looking back, fire images have been constant in my poetry. As a boy, it was my job to light the fire each morning, and I remember the celebratory bonfires at the end of the war. It was from staring into fire that I began my first poetry.

What better way to connect with people than by staring and talking straight at them? Don't blink - that's one less connection you could have made.

I get paranoid about people staring at me. Even now I don't deal with people looking at me. I can't do it sometimes. I can't go out. I don't know how to react when people stare.

If I feel anxious every time someone is staring at me, well, I can't control what they stare at, but my reaction is, I'm just not going to go outside the house. I'm going to stay in and chill. And when I do go out, I understand what comes along with that.

I can go to any restaurant without a reservation, but while I'm there, everyone's gonna be staring.

I miss being able to have a drink in my local pub, which I can't do anymore, or being able to go to the shops without every second person staring at me and looking at my basket to see what I'm buying.

Seeing bored-looking fans staring at you while you DJ is about as horrible as it gets.

But while they continued staring into one another's face waiting for the miracle of science the pain grew worse.

He sat in his shirt on the edge of the bed and stared into vacancy, desolate. The cigarette ash fell unnoticed on his spotless floor, patterned with the stars, and sun, and moon.

He says the sort of thing that people say. The light. The movement. The ceaseless change. But I think that's to get it precisely wrong. Isn't it the other way around? That it never changes. That you are staring at a vision of eternity, sometimes sunlit, sometimes furious, but always there. Gazing at you gazing at it. I

It is one of the strange truths of life that practically nobody likes to be stared at and that practically nobody can stop themselves from staring....

Right now, they were all staring back at me like I'd asked them to sign up for alligator wrestling or ballroom-dance classes or something seriously awful like that.

It was mesmerizing," Grandma said. "It was like staring into the eye of a cobra. I don't care if I do anything else on the bucket list. This was awesome. It was like a biblical experience.

The men eyed her with the automatic mix of curiosity, lust, and aesthetic judgment they always gave young women, subject to object, the way you'd stare at an animal. She pretended not to notice. To remind them she was a person was too much effort. Objects bore no guilt.

I'm not drawn to people that much unless there's a really serious energy happening, but I'll take a lot of pictures of trees, or I'm always staring at the ground. I'll see an oil stain that looks like something out of 'Lord of the Rings' or something, and that's what kind of calls to me... I'm drawn to that aspect of photography.

When I drove up on the set one day, and they'd put up a sign that says 'The Bill Engvall Show,' I stood there for 20 minutes just staring at it. The director, James Widdoes, came up and said, 'What are you doing?' And I said, 'Look at this! There's my name on a stage door in Hollywood!'

He sat looking at it with his eyes protruding in the manner popularized by snails, looking like something stuffed by a taxidermist who had learned his job from a correspondence course and had only got as far as lesson three.

She lay outside in the courtyard, staring up at the raindrops… feeling them hit her body… trying to guess where one would land next. The nuns called again, threatening that pneumonia might make an insufferably headstrong child a lot less curious about nature.

With his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he stared through the glass at a flat lozenge of vatgrown flesh that lay on a carved pedestal of imitation jade.

when she was sitting staring into space, communing with her disillusion, his heart would be wrung by their unloving beauty.