If you say my eyes are beautiful, it's because they are looking at you.
Kiss me with your eyes.
To love is not to look at one another: it is to look, together, in the same direction.
I want you to see that I'm looking. Look at me look at you. I'm cool with that.
I noticed that once you realize someone's watching you it's pretty hard not to find yourself watching them back.
Think ye by gazing on each other's eyes To multiply your lovely selves?
I am looking at you and you are looking at me. This is very good. I am looking and I am liking. You are looking and you are thinking, 'I hope she doesn't hit me with her crop.' But that is because I am me and you are you.
The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth.
My mother always told me,”hide your face- people are looking at you”. I would reply,”It does not matter; I am also looking at them.
I've never looked through a keyhole without finding someone was looking back.
Yes, I'm looking at you, looking at me, looking at you, looking at me, looking back at you.
Before Jem looks at anyone else he looks at me, and I’ve tried to live so I can look squarely back at him.
To perceive the aura of an object we look at means to invest it with the ability to look at us in return.
The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.
It was nice - in the dark and the quiet... and her eyes looking back, like there was something in me worth seeing.
The Martians were there - in the canal - reflected in the water.... The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the rippling water.
They looked at each other. They weren't thinking anymore. The time for that had come and gone. Smashed smiles lay ahead of them. But that would be later. Lay Ter.
I ne'er could any luster see in eyes that would not look on me.
Sometimes I looked at them and sometimes they looked at me, but rarely did we look at one another.
She won't give him back his look.
I looked at him and he looked at me. A moment. A choice. My choice. His choice.
I remember just looking at this lioness, she was staring at me, and we just had this weird connection.
The nature of photography has always resisted that temptation of interpretation. I look, and what I see looks back at me.
My head was level with hers as we stared at each other from opposite sides of the glass. I don't remember how it ended - if I went to bed or she did. In my memory, it doesn't end. We just stay there, looking at each other, forever.
