Quotes About Gaze

Our self-forgetful gaze on God is immersed in God's self-emptying gaze on us, and in this mutual meeting we find rest.

The modern idea that the female nude implies the existence of a predatory male gaze was not first thought up, as is often imagined, in the feminism of the 1960s. As Part One will explain, what is believed to be the very first life-sized statue of a female nude in classical Greece – a fourth-century BCE image of the goddess Aphrodite – provoked exactly the same kind of debate.

The feeling of love is the same feeling that you get when you stare into the moon on a clear night.

Eyes don't breath. I know that much. But hers look breathless.

Eyes don't breath. I know that much. But her eyes look breathless

He looks at me and I know he is going to say no but I don't turn away and I don't stop looking because ever since Mira said I noticed him I have made a point not to notice him and for the first time I am noticing that his eyes have a dark ring of brown around a golden iris and I find that infinitely interesting because my eyes are the same color and I think he notices this too at the exact same moment and a chill shivers over me, and like a miracle, he says, "Let's go.

His voice was warm and slow and reminded me of the gentle rumble of a distant summer storm--so inviting at a distance. And those eyes again, the ones that made me feel naked, like he saw beneath my skin. I knew I couldn't sit down and tell him my worries, but his steadfast gaze made me want to.

Luella, she kept gettin' paler and paler, and she never took her eyes off my face. There was somethin' awful about the way she looked at me and never spoke a word.

My lady, watchful and quiet as the cold stars in the wintry sky, looked up at these casements with an earnest and scrutinizing gaze. One of the windows was shrouded by a scanty curtain of faded red; and upon this curtain there went and came a dark shadow, the shadow of a woman with a fantastic head dress, the shadow of a restless creature, who paced perpetually backward and forward before the window.

He never took his eyes off my face as I told him about Mack

Then she saw me watching her. For perhaps two seconds our eyes met and held. I knew then why the ancients armed the cruellest god with arrows; I felt the shock of it right through my body.

Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.

She gave me peace just by looking at her, which might explain why I looked at her for too long, and with too much intensity in my eyes. The way people never look at people anymore. I wanted her in every sense.

The thing can never be separated from someone who perceives it; nor can it ever actually be in itself because its articulations are the very ones of our existence, and because it is posited at the end of a gaze or at the conclusion of a sensory exploration that invests it with humanity. To taking up or the achievement by us of an alien intention or inversely the accomplishment beyond our perceptual powers and as a coupling of our body wit the things.

I need no dictionary of quotations to remind me that the eyes are the windows of the soul.

Four-Word Lines" Your eyes are just like bees, and I feel like a flower. Their brown power makes a breeze go over my skin. When your lashes ride down and rise like brown bees' legs, your prolonged gaze makes my eyes gauze. I wish we were in some shade and no swarm of other eyes to know that I'm a flower breathing bare, laid open to your bees' warm stare. I'd let you wade in me and seize with your eager brown bees' power a sweet glistening at my core.

She wasn't just a B-girl, she was carrying the whole ugly world in her eyes.

His eyes were that curious shade of hazel that made her think of sunshine and toffee, caramel and whiskey, sweetness and sin all at once, and they were fixed on her with so much heat. So much intent. And she knew he was right. This was her moment, here and now....

We can't stop staring at each other. Saying nothing, nothing to say. I trace the curve of his jaw and throat, the sweet spot below his ear, with only my eyes, because he's too faraway to touch. We stare and we stare and I can't stop myself from smiling, because he's smiling, too. We don't have to speak to have this conversation; in fact, the only way to have it is by not using words.

It was a doll's smile. Plastic. She added a head-tilt and blank gaze.

As I walked through the fog, back into the future, I made a list of everything I wanted to bring back with me: the heartbreaking indigo of a Greengage night sky, the sugared almonds I'd eaten in the dining hall, the hawing sound Fancy made when she laughed, the smells of freshly cut clover, sponge cake, and loam, Martha's steady gaze, the swish of my borrowed skirt.

Can you not see [hope] burning in her eyes? Does it not make you want to look away when you have none to give in return?

No ha sido capaz esa mirada tuya de evitar que te ocurriera algo malo?

The way you look at me when you think I might be looking your way is one of my favorite things in the world.