Best 94 quotes in «looking quotes» category

Rylan!" Nadia and I turn our heads simultaneously towards the entrance to the living room as Tim Powers appears. "Yeah?" I yell across the room. That's when I notice the expression on Power' face. A mixture of awe, amazement, appreciation, and a bit of jealousy. "Your girlfriend's here," Tim informs me. He steps aside, and a goddess enters the room. It's been forever since I first had those dreams Ivy sent me with her in her disguise. But I still remember how she looks. Pale skin, long hair, bright-green eyes, and a model's figure. A perfect dream girl, who's now reality. Ivy smiles shyly as she steps into the room. Her skin is porcelain, unflawed and shiny. White-blind hair, straight and flowing, falls down her back and ends a little bit past her waist. She's not wearing her woven grass robe, but instead a dress mist likely altered from a piece of clothing from her clothes sack. It probably reached the floor at one point, with long sleeves, but the sleeves are gone and the skirt's been snipped away, leaving behind a green dress that shows off mile-long legs. But her face...all that pales in comparison to her face. Heart-shaped, with high cheekbones, an elegant nose, a well-shaped chin, and her lips—she's not covering them anymore—two shimmering, bright green pools I would be happy to drown in or go through. People believe the eyes are the window to your soul, and Ivy's soul is beautiful.

Seeing the obvious is often harder than seeing the hidden!

So many interests compete for our young people, from drug barons to sex traffickers who are constantly looking for ways to revive their ageing workforce

The darkest hours bring the most light.

That thing over there was more there than it’s there! Yes, sometimes I cry about the perfect body that doesn’t exist. But the perfect body is the bodiest body there can be, And the rest are the dreams men have, The myopia of someone who doesn’t look very much,

Stop looking outside or at others for that which you seek of yourself.

The meaningful glances of an animal immediately raises it into a human category in our minds!

...The editors of (i)Life(i) rejected Kerész'a photographs when he arrived in the United States in 1937 because, they said, his images 'spoke too much'; they made us reflect, suggested a meaning — a different meaning from the literal one. Ultimately, Photography is subversive not when it frightens, repels, or even stigmatizes, but when it is (i)pensive(i), when it thinks.

The message of the heavens is not for those looking to the ground, but for those looking to the heavens!

We find ourselves only by looking to what we’re not.

The source calls to you. Find a quiet place and listen for the voice of creation. Look upon the horizon and see the future of your new life, where you are again a natural soul living in joy and peace.

The task of the modern individual is to move appropriately and effectively from disengaged spectator to attentive perceiver in order to slide easily into the social order. The starer, in contrast, is an undisciplined spectator arrested in an earlier developmental stage or one resistant to the attentiveness of the modern networker. The starer is a properly attentive spectator befuddled, halted in mid-glance, mobility throttled, processing checked, network run amuck...So the challenge of proper looking is converting the impulse to stare into attention, which is socially acceptable. (21-22)

The world is not looking for proof of Jesus Christ; the world knew everything about Jesus when they crucified him. The world is guilty. John 16:5-8.

The world is endlessly fascinating to those who take the time to look.

The survivor spoke to us though, or tried to. Mumbling through that matted brown beard of his, pale as death itself. I can’t say now if it was weakness from his wounds or what it was – but we struggled to understand him. In fact we got nothing intelligible from him at all then. He seemed afraid, like any dying man probably would be, but he did seem more terrified than any dying man I’ve seen before – and I’ve seen a few in my time. Let me tell you, Corsair or not, he grabbed whatever hand would hold his, and clenched it so tight his knuckles turned white! He kept fading out as we carried him on the stretcher board the medics brought with them. Looking back, I think he tried to warn us, poor bastard. He tried to tell us to leave him behind and go, but we wouldn’t listen. We thought we were better than the Corsairs, remember? We thought we would be all moral and upright and try to help him. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ were the last words he said before losing consciousness. At least, those that we could make out. At the end of it all, he was right – as it turned out, we couldn’t even help ourselves.

Though the people look the same, they are different; though the people look different, they are the same!

Time appears to be most wasted when someone seeks truth in lies

To look is easy, to see is difficult!

What use is care? What good is watching for that matter? People are forever watching things. They should be seeing. I see the things I look at. I am a see-er.

We're looking for quantum donuts," said Mike.

You can't be beautiful and a writer, because to be a writer you have to be the one doing the looking; if you're beautiful people will be looking at you.

when we conceive an idea, we don't just look anymore but we see. People without a well defined vision look; men with a focused purpose look and they see.

Wonders amaze me. They can aim wanderlessly in any forest, be it of dark trees or lighted bushes. And apparently, as per what I’ve heard, they can buy stuff that’s on sale, but only if and when they feel wonderfully wonderful. Because otherwise they wouldn’t really be themselves, which would be a problem for them, because if they aren’t what they are - they can’t exist, and if they don’t exist – that makes them invisible and silent to all the wandering people, who may or may not be looking for them to sell themselves to.

You can save hundred words with just one look!

When Brittany walks into Mrs. P.'s class on Friday I'm still thinking about how I'm going to get back at her for throwing my keys into the woods last weekend. It took me forty-five minutes to find the suckers, and all the while I was cursing Brittany. Okay, so I give her props for dishing it out.

When I find her, she's standing by some boulders near the rim of her clearing. Ivy's holding a rock as she looks under it, as if she'll find me under there. "Ivy? I'm right here." She doesn't answer. She doesn't even turn around. She just sets the rock down and moves on to the next one, calling out my name. "Rylan?" "Ivy, I'm right behind you." Why won't she look at me? "I cannot find you...Rylan." Ivy talks to herself as she lifts up each rock. "Where did you go? Why are you...not here?" "But I am, Ivy. I'm right here." Ivy finishes searching under the rocks and for a moment gazes out into the dense trees. "Where are you, Rylan? Why am I...alone?" "You're not!" I cry out in frustration. "I'm right behind you! Just turn around and look!" She does. Ivy turns around and walks toward me until we're only a foot apart. But she isn't looking at me. She's looking over my shoulder, just like Dad. "Do you see me now?" I furiously waved my hands in front of her face. "I'm right here." When Ivy speaks again, she's talking to herself. "Rylan? Where are you?" She stretches out her hand and touches me with it. It goes right through me. Like I'm mist. Like I'm a ghost. Like I wasn't even here to begin with. "Ivy!

While you are walking on a street, stop and lie down and look around you! Make it a habit to see everything from the uncommon corners because all the unnoticed things will be visible when looking from the ignored angles!

Yesterday I watched a curious nightfall. The cloud ceiling took on a warm tone, deepened, and departed as if drawn on a leash. I could no longer see the fat snow flying against the sky; I could see it only as it fell before dark objects. Any object at a distance –like the dead, ivy-covered walnut I see from the bay window- looked like a black and white frontispiece seen through a sheet of white tissue. It was like dying, this watching the world recede into deeper and deeper blues while the snow piled; silence swelled and extended, distance dissolved, and soon only concentration at the largest shadows let me make out the movement of falling snow, and that too failed. The snow on the yard was blue as ink, faintly luminous; the sky violet. The bay window betrayed me, and started giving me back the room’s lamps. It was like dying, that growing dimmer and deeper and then going out.

You're the one you've been looking for; you complete you.

You have two eyes, and two ears, but only one mouth. This is so because you are supposed to look and listen more than you talk.

You'll make bundle of blunders if you consider yourself too clever to look at anothers work.

And it's true what I read about joy. It's the kind of happiness that not only fills you up but spills over. Really, all you have to do is look for it, and then have the strength to let it in. And believe it or not, that's the hardest part.

You want help? Ask for help. You want love? Ask for love. If you want anything from the universe, anything from yourself, you must first ask.

4am and me. the only two beasts that will look at you sincerely.

Almost nothing need be said when you have eyes.

And I go looking looking for you in the streets And I never find you I never find you at all

As a panting Tracy Ferris scrambled into the life-pod, this thought was precisely what was running through her already agitated mind. From the very beginning of their association, she’d had a bad feeling about Brandon Carver. Something about that guy just never seemed to fit. Sure, he was good looking – but so were many of the other out of work space bums hitch-hiking from place to place she’d also had the misfortune to meet.

Drawing is never reproducing - in order to see, you have to know how to look, and you have to know what you’re looking at.

Astronomers have their heads stuck up their bums looking for the black hole.

Beauty is everywhere you look, but you have to look.

For me, walking has become less physical transit than mental transportation. It is engaging. I have become, I fear, a difficult walking companion, liable to slow down and point at things. I can turn this off, but I love to have it on: a sense of wonder that I, and we all, have a predisposition to but have forgotten to enjoy.

Everybody turns to look at him. It is quite frightening.

Every glance made him need another.

Everyone is good if you see from good side.

For the first time in a long time, I actually look at her. I've always thought Lena was pretty, but now it occurs to me that at some point—last summer? last year?—she became beautiful. Her eyes seem to have grown even larger, and her cheekbones have sharpened. Her lips, on the other hand, look softer and fuller. I've never felt ugly next to Lena, but suddenly I do. I feel tall and ugly and bony, like a straw-colored horse.

God is looking for prepared men to send to the world of education to manage the place for him.

God is looking for godly people to send to the world of finances to subdue it for him.

God is looking for gifted people to send to the world of entertainment, to reveal himself there.

God is looking for God revealers and God carriers

God is not looking at your abilities, talents, self-worth to be qualified to be his disciple