We need to glance at our problems and stare at Jesus!
If you stare at someone long enough, you start to see their humanity.
Often, our most rewarding dreams are staring us right in the face, but for some reason we focus on how hard things are, how we are scared of the unknown and what would happen if we failed.
You don’t have to go looking for pictures. The material is generous. You go out and the pictures are staring at YOU.
Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.
The looks, the stares, the giggles . . . I wanted to show everybody that I could do better and also that I could read.
Ah, but you, Darkness, you know all this. I tell you night after night. Nothing will shock you. Maybe I go on at you in the hope that there's something beyond you. Some nights I sit here and talk and sob and stare out into the blackness thinking that if I look hard enough I'll see the light behind. But I stay out until the break of day, waiting, hoping, and there's only sunrise again.
Just slap something on it when you see a blank canvas staring at you with a sort of imbecility.
I was aware of people staring at me. No one moved. They seemed almost in trance. I just stared at the clock in the center of the church. When I finished, everyone clapped and started crying.
Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass, and I'm home bound. Staring blankly ahead, just making my way, making a way, through the crowd. And I need you, and I miss you, and now I wonder... If I could fall, into the sky. do you think time, would pass me by? 'Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles, if I could, just see you tonight.
I can once more carry on a conversation with myself, and don't stare so into complete emptiness. Only in this way is there any possibility of improvement for me.
Look guys, if you're just going to stare at me, I'm going to bed!
That's why I tell stories: to create readiness, to nudge the people toward receptive insight. In their present state they can stare till doomsday and not see it, listen till they're blue in the face and not get it.
No one’s forcing you to do this. You willingly tie yourself to these leashes. And you willingly become utterly socially autistic. You no longer pick up on basic human communication clues. You’re at a table with three humans, all of whom are looking at you and trying to talk to you, and you’re staring at a screen, searching for strangers in Dubai.
Fix your eyes on Jesus; it's ok to stare.
I still find the best way to understand a hospitalized patient is not by staring at the computer screen but by going to see the patient; it's only at the bedside that I can figure out what is important.
I do not want to discuss evolution in such depth, however, only touch on it from my own perspective: from the moment when I stood on the Serengeti plains holding the fossilized bones of ancient creatures in my hands to the moment when, staring into the eyes of a chimpanzee, I saw a thinking, reasoning personality looking back. You may not believe in evolution, and that is all right. How we humans came to be the way we are is far less important than how we should act now to get out of the mess we have made for ourselves.
Now everything was changed. She walked about with cautious, anxious steps, staring constantly at the ground, on the lookout for things that crept and crawled. Bushes were dangerous, and so were sea grass and rain water. There were little animals everywhere. They could turn up between the covers of a book, flattened and dead, for the fact is that creeping animals, tattered animals, and dead animals are with us all our lives, from beginning to end. Grandmother tried to discuss this with her, to no avail. Irrational terror is so hard to deal with.
I have the infinite galaxy from '2001 as my screensaver - so if I space out while I'm writing and it goes to screensaver, I can just stare off into the stars.
Leo Crowley, Harry [Truman]'s Foreign Economic Administrator, tells Congressmen the theory...: 'If you create good governments in foreign countries, automatically you will have better markets for ourselves.' With that honeycunt staring you in the face, you'd forget your grammar too.
I tend to stare at people and memorize what they're saying and how they say it.
My brother and I were meditating before we were 6 years old, having to stare at the wall and chant.
I'm bored way too easily. I'm staring at screens half the day. I need to be overstimulated. And how will that express itself artistically?
I shall open my eyes and ears. Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are. I shall joyfully allow them their "divine, magical, and ecstatic" existence.
I thought that beauty alone would satisfy, but the soul is gone. I can’t bear those empty, staring eyes.
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