And though I remember her name I cannot recall her face. All things pass.
Gratitude paints little smiley faces on everything it touches.
I look at the hundreds of algebra problems facing me in the next three days. And here I thought I’d figured out the equation to my happiness.
This shame has nothing to do with He or She. It's the being mortal - how shall I say it? ... insufficient.
I now saw, with great dismay, that what I had been carrying all this time was not a bowl but a book. This ruined everything.
She didn’t have the body of the supermodel. But that’s OK, because she didn’t have the face of one either.
I desire to know you. Every breath of your heart, every fleeting look on your face, the rhythm of your joys, and the melancholy of your sorrows.
So why isn't the world overrun with evil spirits?" Moira stared at her, a half-smile on her face. "Who says it isn't?
Witches, warlocks, gremlins, orgres - they're just words,labels. Haven't you noticed that when people are labelled, their faces disappear?
Does anyone truly understand females? ...Their behavior is opposite of everything in the natural order and flies in the face of logic.
Facing them (men) with knives and spears was much easier than loving them, much easier.
Yet you stand, too ashamed to run, too fearful to embrace. God I see so much of what I love in that face.
He had the same look on his face that I had every day when I looked in the mirror. He was nothing more than a shell of a person.
I realized it was like looking into the sun—you shouldn't do it, because you'd turn your face away and be blind to everything else.
I turn even more flustered when I remember that I have actually pistol-whipped him in the face before. Romantic.
Before I can say anything else, he steps forward and takes my face in his hands. Then he's kissing me one last time.
He was sort of beautiful. In his own dark, depressing way, but still. She was going to miss that stupid fucking beautiful face.
Windisch closes his eyes. He feels his eyes. He feels his eyeballs in his hands. His eyes without a face.
Have you ever listened to folk music? Let's face it, a lot of folk music is all about dead sailors, mad witches, rape and fratricide.
Do not turn your face from others with pride, nor walk arrogantly on earth. Verily the Almighty does not like those who are arrogant and boastful.
Through the metal grating on my carrier door, Adrian's face suddenly appeared, peering in at me. "What new, pussycat?
