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1 " You should really go inside now,” he said.Her glazed, unfocused stare was starting to clear, and the cranky look he was used to being levelled at him started to take shape. “And if I don’t?”“You want to fuck me on your doorstep?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “Call me tomorrow when you’re sober. I’ll be right over.”She jutted her chin defiantly—clearly pissed at him for trying to be the responsible one. “I won’t need you after I’ve spent all night with a couple of multi-speed toyfriends and a box of batteries.”Linc shoved his hands on his hips, pushing back unhelpful images of her naked and pleasuring herself with a hot pink cock. “Go inside,” he growled.Before he did something crazy like offering to watch. "
― Amy Andrews , Playing the Player (Sydney Smoke Rugby, #3)
2 " Yes?" she asked, eyeing me guardedly.I struck out a hand and said " Shake." Arra stared at the hand, then into my unfocused eyes. " One good fight doesn't make you a warrior," she said." Shake!" I repeated angrily." And if I don't?" she asked." I'll get back up on the bars and fight you till you do," I growled.Arra studied me at length, then nodded and took my hand. " Power to you, Darren Shan," she said gruffly." Power," I repeated weakly, then fainted into her arms and knew no more till I came to in my hammock the next night. "
3 " Lou stood at the kitchen sink, her eyes unfocused on her hazy reflection in the window. Outside the sky was fading from steely blue to indigo. The mountain range beyond was a solid sheet of black, cut out by a child's sloppy scissors. "
― , Edge of Wild
4 " Three quick breaths triggered the responses: he fell into the floating awareness... focusing the consciousness... aortal dilation... avoiding the unfocused mechanism of consciousness... to be conscious by choice... blood enriched and swift-flooding the overload regions... one does not obtain food-safety freedom by instinct alone... animal consciousness does not extend beyond the given moment nor into the idea that its victims may become extinct... the animal destroys and does not produce... animal pleasures remain close to sensation levels and avoid the perceptual... the human requires a background grid through which to see his universe... focused consciousness by choice, this forms your grid... bodily integrity follows nerve-blood flow according to the deepest awareness of cell needs... all things/cells/beings are impermanent... strive for flow-permanence within... "
― Frank Herbert , Dune
5 " My greatest strength is an unfocused mind. This is because while you are all thinking of one idea, I’m thinking of five different ideas. My greatest weakness however is an unfocused mind. This is because while I’m supposed to be thinking about one thing, I’m actually thinking of five other things. "
― Ben Mitchell
6 " The practice of meditation helps us to organize our thoughts and structure ourideas. Through the practice of meditation, we can open to the creative flow that is waiting to pour through us, infusing inspiration with passion. Meditation puts the mind in order and brings it under control, opening the door to receive this free flow of perfect energy. The unfocused mind is like a sledgehammer. The focused mind is like a sharp axe. Both tools can be used to take down a tree, but the axe is going to be much more efficient. Moreover, using the axe will allow you to work more swiftly, thereby saving much energy to get more done. "
7 " How much more mysterious and inviting is the street of an old town with its altering realms of darkness and light than are the brightly and evenly lit streets of today! The imagination and daydreaming are stimulated by dim light and shadow. In order to think clearly, the sharpness of vision, has to be suppressed, for thoughts travel with an absent-minded and unfocused gaze. Homogeneous bright light paralyses the imagination in the same way that homogenization of space weakens the experience of being, and wipes away the sense of place. The human eye is most perfectly turned for twilight rather than bright daylight. "
― Juhani Pallasmaa
8 " The observer self, a part of who we really are, is that part of us that is watching both our false self and our True Self. We might say that it even watches us when we watch. It is our Consciousness, it is the core experience of our Child Within. It thus cannot be watched—at least by anything or any being that we know of on this earth. It transcends our five senses, our co-dependent self and all other lower, though necessary parts, of us. Adult children may confuse their observer self with a kind of defense they may have used to avoid their Real Self and all of its feelings. One might call this defense “false observer self” since its awareness is clouded. It is unfocused as it “spaces” or “numbs out.” It denies and distorts our Child Within, and is often judgmental. "
― Charles L. Whitfield , Healing the Child Within: Discovery and Recovery for Adult Children of Dysfunctional Families
9 " Each day, wake up with a plan. Don’t just approach your days in an unfocused void. That state of mind leaves too much room for discontent, opposition, unhappiness and hopelessness. "
― Carlos Wallace , The Other 99 T.Y.M.E.S: Train Your Mind to Enjoy Serenity
10 " Setting fire to the roofs, getting away with the loot, suiting herself. She studied modern philosophy, read Sartre on the side, smoked Gitanes, and cultivated a look of bored contempt. But inwardly, she was seething with unfocused excitement, and looking for someone to worship. "
― Margaret Atwood , Wilderness Tips
11 " Perhaps hell is like that; a discordant confusion of anxious souls. Some argued, some slept, some shouted, some wept, some wrote, some sketched and many conspired about their coming interrogation. But mostly they did no more than stare into space, eyes unfocused as they tried to see tomorrow. "
― Len Deighton , SS-GB
12 " His thought processes imploded when she grabbed his ass, her nails digging in a way that set his body on fire. He loved the way her breath was hot on his cheek, the way her eyes had gone unfocused and fluttered closed, her lashes resting softly on her cheeks. She was here and for tonight, this weekend, she was his. "
― Leah Braemel , Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy, #1)
