Best 222 quotes in «face quotes» category

Enemies are people who's story you haven't heard, or who's face you haven't seen.

Everything goes away; your dark circles, your wrinkles, your spots and your acne. The layers of your skin don’t define who you are as a person, who you are to yourself, to the people around you and who you are to the world. Take care of your health, try to maintain a proper weight and diet. Always take care of yourself, your mind and your heart. Eat healthy, exercise, run, jump, relax but, don’t chase beauty. Don’t spend hours worrying about your skin or hair color.

Every time we face tests and trials, God is instigating us to action

Face your face!

Facing problems? Good. Even cocoon does. It makes the wings stronger you know.

Face your fears by remembering the power of God's cleaning truth. To change the way you are, change the way you think.

Fashion doesn't make you perfect, but it makes you pretty.

For all the way he loved her. Every song had her memory, every rain had her smell, and every girl had her face.

Get on a bus full of old people and you’ll understand what I mean. It’s easy to pick the woman who’s spent her life indulging herself in moral indignation, tightening her lips against mothers who are too young, mothers who are too old, young men with dangerous-looking haircuts, and Winifred Martin going off with May Charleston’s husband, and at their age, honestly. Yes, you’ll be able to pick her in a trice, since she’ll be the one with the cat's arse where her mouth ought to be.

For example, the gaze of a painted woman's face following the viewer around the room would be an appreciated accomplishment for the Zweighaupt Powerhouse, but for the Vienneses there would be something wrong with it, and the attention should not be returned.

He can hit a man in the liver so the blood flow stops. It takes a full second before the pain registers and the man falls. I've seen Billy hook men's livers and punch at their hearts. I've seen him break a man's nose in the ring, shatter an eardrum, close an eye. I've seen him hit a man so hard, fist to jaw, the man seemed to fall asleep before he fell, his body so relaxed his face looked calm even when his head slammed against canvas.

God, Arthur.” He kisses me. “Te quiero. Estoy enamorado. You don’t even know.” And I don’t speak a word of Spanish, but when I look at his face, I get it.

God gave all the animals, birds, plants, trees etc. the same faces and appearances. Sometimes, the colours are different. Say, a white cat and a black cat; but, their faces are same. All the parrots look same, so are the mynas. Though there are bigger parrots, even they look the same compared to the other bigger ones. But, humans have different faces and colours. There are 700 crores people on earth. Remarkably, one face is different from another! Though we have two eyes, one nose, two ears etc. but still every person looks different and God intentionally did it so that we can easily identify ourselves. If all the humans had the same face, then maybe we had to add our names or numbers to our foreheads!

Harry looked at him and you could see the murder come in his face. ... Harry didn't say anything, but you could see the killing go out of his face and his eyes came open natural again.

Heart can keep a secret, but face is not a good secret keeper! So what heart knows, face will expose it!

Hide in the mirror. No one will look for you there.

He raised himself on his hands and looked at Irene's face: the nudity of that feminine body had risen into her face, the body had reabsorbed it, as nature reabsorbs forsaken gardens.

Her face was made of angular planes, the shape of her mouth clear-cut, a sensual mouth held closed with inflexible precision. She kept her hands in the coat pockets, her posture taut, as if she resented immobility...

Her fat neck jiggled as the words came out of her botoxed, pink mouth. Her heavy bosoms moved up and down from her agitated breathing, like two mountains that rose and fell from the turbulence of the earth beneath it.

He witnessed the destruction of everything he had ever created. These are the crippled pieces, the faces that he was stuck with; a puppet show that he could not get out of, all the strings tangled, the dead attached to the living.

His eyes were more sunken than I remembered them, and his cheekbones more pronounced. This gave him a harsher, older look - until he smiled, of course, and the sagging cheeks gathered up like curtains.

His face was like a quiet pool that would hold everything safe in its depth.

His features had the fine precision of sculpture. His hair was black and straight, swept back. The suntan of his skin intensified the startling color of his eyes: they were a pure, clear blue. His face was open, its rapid changes of expression reflecting whatever he felt, as if he had nothing to hide. The blue eyes were still and changeless, never giving a hint of what he thought.

He loses his power when we know his face.

Her face worked in an odd way, like knitting coming undone.

His face was the sort of British face from which emotion has been so carefully banished that a foreigner is apt to think the wearer of the face incapable of any sort of feeling; the kind of face which, if it has any expression at all, expresses principally the resolution to go through the world decorously, without intruding upon or annoying anyone.

His cheek pillows pushed up by a thin, slanting smile, a fine channel like a scar from nose to upper lip.

I don't like him. He makes me laugh. It'll wrinkle my face.

I am a face in a trance, evoking duende. My face imbues breath and stuns you with star-spirit. I am grove-face, story-teller face, and dawn-bringer face. A face as common as carrots and celery, called upon as a father to be cook, waiter, servant, and maid.

I am convinced that "all ladies are not the same". Some have pretty faces, others have beautiful characters. Some have facial make-ups, others have mental make-ups!

I do. I choose you, which is to choose him and the others and to say Everything I was ever told of love was so simple as to be untrue. Let me see for myself what you desire beside me. Let me look it in the face and kiss him.

I don’t remember his face or the place we ate. I only remember how he grabbed my hand and his voice when he spoke of his dad.

I don’t want people to fall in love with my smile, my face or my body. I am waiting for somebody to love the mess I can be and fall in love with my emotional scars.

I had a dream about you. It's been a while since I could remember any of my dreams, and still, this one has left me with such strong impression. Even now, when I am fully awake, your face flashes before my eyes. It's a face I can totally relate to, as if it wasn't any more yours than it is mine. Terrifying thing, you know? I can't say I've felt that sort of intimacy with anyone. For a moment you knew all my secrets, without me even having to tell them. For a moment I even knew them myself… While I was looking into your eyes, I suddenly started to realize things about myself that were unspoken for years, like fragments of my inner life that were deeply repressed. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such a dirty work, or if leaving them unnamed meant that it was not possible to define them precisely enough, so they would keep their true meaning. Perhaps, all this life that I've known so far was in fact no more but a dream about living. The only thing that has kept me in touch with reality was you… I know it comes as a surprise, and you may be wondering why it took me so long to come clean. You also may be wondering how come you've never noticed before. I've tricked you on purpose, yes, and you must realize it really has nothing to do with you. It’s always been me. This is why, seeing you in my dream like that, came out as a shock. You also must forgive me. You must forgive me because I know how it looks like, that everything we ever shared was a lie, and it wasn't… I am more of an illusionist that a deceiver, but it all comes from being in fact, a very private person. Even if it was true that you knew me better than anyone, I’d never admit it. I’d rather dig my own heart out, with a rotten spoon, than admitting it. I may let people in my own little world occasionally, but I would never let them be aware of it. I don’t throw my intimacy in front of others, especially when I care. The more I care, the less I give away, and this is something for you to understand, and grant me your forgiveness. I didn't play my tricks on you in order to deceive you, but rather to save myself, and maybe even deceive myself as well. I’ve had hidden my feelings for you so deeply that I've learned to live with them, as if any other casualty. I have done wrong to myself as much as I did to you, and I don’t know if I can forgive myself. So now I wonder, could you forgive me without feeling sorry for me? I certainly don’t deserve your pity. Especially not now that I am awake.

If a person do not seek God’s face, all of his merits will be working for evil

If ever sorrow and suffering set their profaning marks on the youth and beauty of Miss Fairlie’s face, then, and then only, Anne Catherick and she would be the twin-sisters of chance resemblance, the living reflections of one another.

If he was hoping to read some clue in my face, he was going to be disappointed; I'd spent the better part of last six years schooling my expression. Whatever he suspected couldn't have been the truth.

If I facepalm myself too much, maybe the pimples will go away.

If you cannot see the rainbow because your face is down, don't argue that no rainbow is up there. Lift up your passion and take your dreams off the ground!

If your face is being illuminated by your television or computer screen, then you should increase the illumination in your environment by moving closer to the window or by using filament light bulbs.

I have a face where half is mine and half is not, it is hard to see a difference when you stand in front of me under the light as both my eyes shines equally. But the day you step into the darkness I hold inside me you will see my face the way it is and it will end up changing your whole world related to me forever.

I have come to realize that my stupid gestures excites women alot, and if I'm really stupid, i will dare to take them to bed and excite them even more.

I just remember things, places, stuffs and faces.

I keep my kindness in my eyes Gently folded around my iris Like a velvety, brown blanket That warms my vision I keep my shyness in my hair Tucked away into a ponytail Looking for a chance to escape On a few loose strands in the air I keep my anger on my lips Just waiting to unleash into the world But trust me; it’s never in my heart It evaporates into words I keep my dignity upon my chin Like a torch held up high For those who have betrayed me Radiating a silent, strong message I keep my gratitude in my smile A glistening waterfall in the sun Gently splashing at that person Who made me happy for some reason I keep my sensitivity in my hands Reaching out for your wet cheek Holding you, with all the love The love I want to share, and feel I keep my passion in my writing My words breathing like fire Screeching against an endless road As I continue to be inspired I keep my simplicity in my soul Spread over me like a clear sky Reflecting all that I am And all that’s ever passed me by And I hope you will look Beyond my ordinary face My simple, tied hair My ordinary tastes And I hope you will see me From everyone...apart As I keep my beauty in my heart.

I learned by heart the lines of your face. I can draw them blindly on a water canvas. Your face in the middle of an inflamed argument. Your face in the middle of a mild one-- when you're at fault. Your face filled with rainbows of laughter. Your face filled with clouds of distress. Your face, fluttering, when I open you the door. Your face, agonizing, every time I stand waiting, for the elevator. Your face, eager, when you kiss me. Your face, surprised, when I lead you to bed. Your face in the middle of pain. Your face on the outskirts of pleasure. Your face, with a baffled look, when you wake up. Your face falling asleep, with total surrender. Your face the first night we met. Your face the last night we parted. I learned by heart the lines of your face. They all led me into hell. They all led me into heaven.

In most cases, failure is not determined by the obstacles we face, but by how we approach them and what our perceptions whisper to when on encountering eventualities.

I’m not just a face, or a body. I’m a Havisham.

I pulled the sheet off their faces. Their faces were black with coal dust and didn't look like anything was wrong with them except they were dirty. The both of them had smiles on their faces. I thought maybe one of them had told a joke just before they died and, pain and all, they both laughed and ended up with a smile. Probably not true but but it made me feel good to think about it like that, and when the Sister came in I asked her if I could clean their faces and she said, "no, certainly not!" but I said, "ah, c'mon, it's me brother n' father, I want to," and she looked at me and looked at me, and at last she said, "of course, of course, I'll get some soap and water." When the nun came back she helped me. Not doing it, but more like showing me how, and taking to me, saying things like "this is a very handsome man" and "you must have been proud of your brother" when I told her how Charlie Dave would fight for me, and "you're lucky you have another brother"; of course I was, but he was younger and might change, but she talked to me and made it all seem normal, the two of us standing over a dead face and cleaning the grit away. The only other thing I remember a nun ever saying to me was, "Mairead, you get to your seat, this minute!

I PAINT MY FACE. By Omrane Khuder. Mirror, distorted; I sit, paint my Face, Toxic white Make-up buries my Scars, My Eyes tell lies; Dumbfounded Confidence hides the Disgrace. Place the tragic Vehicle called My Life in to Drive, Sad pathetic Clown; Late for the suppression show, Despair another time; Let the chuckles and defeat derive. I paint my Heart; I hide my True. I paint my Soul; I keep it from You. I paint, I cannot accept; To ignore you the way you ignore Me? I paint my scarred and pitiful Face; No Will left to restore Me. I paint my Face; it’s all I know to do. My painted Face shatters the Mirror, yet still all I see is You.

I sleep on my face, and then it does not frighten anybody in the morning.