A Quote by Sarah Vowell
If I looked in the mirror someday and saw no dark circles under my eyes, I would probably look better. I just wouldn't look like me.
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Today I saw a guy who looked like me in a funhouse mirror. He looked at me like, Hey, that's how I look reflected in the pond!
She was looking into my eyes with that way she had of looking that made you wonder whether she really saw out of her own eyes. They would look on and on after every one else's eyes in the world would have stopped looking. She looked as though there were nothing on earth she would not look at like that, and really she was afraid of so many things.
I look in the mirror and think, 'I don't look like a rock star.' I talked about this with Bono and we looked at each other and decided we look like a pair of bricklayers.
When I saw him look at me with lust, I dropped my eyes but, in glancing away from him, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. And I saw myself, suddenly, as he saw me, my pale face, the way the muscles in my neck stuck out like thin wire. I saw how much that cruel necklace became me. And, for the first time in my innocent and confined life, I sensed in myself a potentiality for corruption that took my breath away.
Before I was even in high school, I had dark circles under my eyes. Rumor was that I was a junkie. I have dark circles under my eyes, deal with it.
You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, that day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though you’d wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
One day when I was able to get up, I decided to look at myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. I had not seen myself since the ghetto. From the depths of the mirror, a corpse was contemplating me. The look in his eyes as he gazed at me has never left me.
Starting in my 20s, I couldn't wait to look like Anna Magnani or Isabelle Huppert, all these great European actresses - Charlotte Rampling - the cheekbones and the heavy lidded eyes and the dark circles under the eyes, you know. So around 42/44, I started getting a little character on my face, and I was so glad.
I still have a picture: three cars, big house, I'm standing there like I'm 50 Cent. I look at it sometimes and say, 'Look how stupid you were.' But that made me who I am, and I can look back and see it. I've learned. I grew up. I woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and thought, 'No, that's not me. I don't want to be that. I'm a footballer.'
I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked awful, but I always look awful in the mirror. I keep myself going with the firm belief that my real face is much better looking.
I remember the day I turned thirty. I was getting out of the shower and I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself for a long time. I examined every inch of my body and appreciated the fact that I finally looked like a grown woman. I also assumed that this was how I was going to look for the rest of my life. The way I saw it, I was never going to age; I'd just look up one day and be old.
Yes, and I had pimples so badly it used to make me so shy. I used not to look at myself. I'd hide my face in the dark, I wouldn't want to look in the mirror and my father teased me and I just hated it and I cried everyday.
The best change you can make is to hold up a mirror so that people can look into it and change themselves. That's the only way a person can be changed." By looking into yourself," Zia said. "Even if you have to look into a mirror that's outside yourself to do it." "And you know," Maida added. "That mirror can be a story you hear, or just someone else's eyes. Anything that reflects back so you can see yourself in it.
I would have loved to have been beautiful; to have looked in the mirror and said: 'God you look wonderful.' Do people do that, I wonder. Love what they see in the mirror?
But I never looked like that!’ - How do you know? What is the ‘you’ you might or might not look like? Where do you find it - by which morphological or expressive calibration? Where is your authentic body? You are the only one who can never see yourself except as an image; you never see your eyes unless they are dulled by the gaze they rest upon the mirror or the lens (I am interested in seeing my eyes only when they look at you): even and especially for your own body, you are condemned to the repertoire of its images.
I narrowed my eyes at it. Ming-de’s little gift, I assumed. “You look better in color,” I snapped. He sent me a sultry look over his shoulder. “Really? Most women think I look better in nothing at all.
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