Some flabbergasted.

Why, you couldn't take your eyes off it.

Why are you startled, Mr. Messer?

I'd be just another tonguetied fan.

Well excuse my stammer If it ain't Calamity Jane

It's just that we were so certain he was dead, we were startled.

It's a staggering thundering petrifying spectacle.

If I wore it in the street, people might stare.

Everyone was just flabbergasted that she was able to get pregnant at 48.

Not that it's relevant, sir, but you astound me, Mr. Ambassador.

Jane could not believe it when her date polished off an entire chocolate cake.

My father is at once quick witted, wickedly funny, and then poignancy turns on a dime and leaves you breathless.

Maybe we don't always have the energy to call it out or we are too speechless and dumbfounded that no one else seems to have noticed.

But I think, above all, I'm in awe at their power to motivate, to compel us, to transfix us, like really nothing else we've ever invented has quite done before.

'Everyone was staring as she took the knickers off again and obviously didn't like them because she put them back on the shelf.'

And with its huge pectoral fins and eyes still very visible, it struck me as sort of a crucifixion, if you will.

Go ahead and stare.

Why do you stare at me, Acte?

He just stared at me.

Who do you think I'm starin' at?

What an addlepated fool

David Gallo shows jaw dropping footage of amazing sea creatures, including a color shifting cuttlefish, a perfectly camouflaged octopus, and a Times Square's worth of neon light displays from fish who live in the blackest depths of the ocean.

Who are you starin' at?

Well then, chin up, eyes straight ahead, and what care we if the peasants stare.

Stop staring.

The woman glared at us.

(SINGING) I chased a polecat up a tree Way out upon a limb

Like a gazelle.

Miho... were you standing idly by while this child was stricken?

I wasn't staring, Geoffrey.

I'd glare daggers at him.

Eyes'll pop everywhere

His hands were on her throat and he was strangling me.

Stand there and stare at me, thinking I let the place go.

Tell Dill, then stroll around. I'll stay close to the entrance.

Well, confound it, what are you goggling at?

Why are you staring at me like that?

You're going to wear your eyes out.

I'm a swot.

They stay on the fringe of the blood.

No. I'm the lunkhead.

And there's so much going on around Mr Goldfinger,

Before the astonished eyes of a silent public, we have in recent years been able to quot see quot the gravest violations of the right to life for ethnic and racial motives, death from hunger in atrocious conditions of thousands upon thousands of children and people of all ages, in short, atrocities that in the old world with less intercommunication only came to be known many years later through books and distant reports, and were sometimes never known at all by the public.

Attitudes still persist that a woman's place is the home while earning a livelihood is a man's job.

Always stayed in crowds.