The Gaze (n.) of the Buddhist looks peacefully inward; the Christian saint stares outward with a frantic, almost paranoiac intentness.
The Gaze (n.) mortifies its object and is itself the frozen point of the visible — Medusa's head is a gaze transfixed for coming too close to the Thing and seeing too much.
The Gaze (n.) fixed too long on the beloved is the original sin of looking: when Dante stares at Beatrice, oblivious of all else, divine voices reproach him — 'troppo fisso', he stares too fixedly.
The Gaze (n.) is not where we expect it, in the model's staring eyes, but in the gaping hole that transfixes us — her eyes only say 'You see, I'm watching you observing my gaze.'
The Gaze (n.) is on the side of the object: whenever I look at a thing, it is already looking at me from a point I cannot see.
The Gaze (n.) can come from a sardine can: "it doesn't see you," the fisherman told young Lacan, yet it was looking at him, because he was out of place in the picture.