They kissed for the first time then in the cold spring rain, though neither one of them now knew that it was raining. Tristran's heart pounded in his chest as if it was not big enough to contain all the joy that it held. He opened his eyes as he kissed the star. Her sky-blue eyes stared back into his, and in her eyes he could see no parting from her.

Part of falling in love with someone is actually falling in love with yourself. Realizing that you're gorgeous, you're fearless and unpredictable, you're a firecracker spitting light, entrancing a hundred faces that stare up at you with starry eyes.

When someone you love says goodbye you can stare long and hard at the door they closed and forget to see all the doors God has open in front of you.

When she came to her senses again she cut off all contact with him. It had not been easy, but she had steeled herself. The last time she saw him she was standing on a platform in the tunnelbana at Gamla Stan and he was sitting in the train on his way downtown. She had stared at him for a whole minute and decided that she did not have a grain of feeling left, because it would have been the same as bleeding to death. Fuck you.

He stared at her, knowing with certainty that he was falling in love. He pulled her close and kissed her beneath a blanket of stars, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find her.

People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.

I'd much rather have sat there and just been a fly on the wall instead of having to smile at people. I'd rather have been a waitress. Just gone round and stared at people.

My mother sent me to psychiatrists since the age of four because she didn't think little boys should be sad. When my brother was born I stared out the window for days. Can you imagine that?

People don't really understand but having people stare and point and take pictures even if it is in a positive framework is quite isolating there's no two ways about it. You feel a little bit you know freakish.

Well my mom taught public school music for almost 40 years. And she's about 5 feet - and very mighty. And she would control her kids a lot by giving them the eye or the stare.

I have known a vast quantity of nonsense talked about bad men not looking you in the face. Don't trust that conventional idea. Dishonesty will stare honesty out of countenance any day in the week if there is anything to be got by it.

Our imagination just needs space. It's all it needs that moment where you just sort of stare into the distance where your brain gets to sort of somehow rise up.

Happiness is like a cloud if you stare at it long enough it evaporates.

I always find it kind of embarrassing kind of funny and kind of exciting. In New York I'm recognized a lot although nobody says anything. You know they stare at you just a second too long. But in Paris it's not as commonplace to be recognized.

A plague on eminence! I hardly dare cross the street anymore without a convoy and I am stared at wherever I go like an idiot member of a royal family or an animal in a zoo and zoo animals have been known to die from stares.

In these dangerous times where it seems the world is ripping apart at the seams we can all learn how to survive from those who stare death squarely in the face every day and we should reach out to each other and bond as a community rather than hide from the terrors of life at the end of the millennium.

My biggest hero Gregory Peck was my birthday present on April 14 1973. I just sat and stared at him.

The best thing to do is stare it in the face and move on. We have to face our fears and plow through. I think taking chances takes a lot more courage than staying stagnant and doing what's safe and comfortable.