In order to have skin that glows and looks healthy and actually is healthy, you need to look at the whole picture and have a holistic approach to it. A lot of it is exercising regularly, drinking enough water, getting enough sleep, and keeping stress...
I feel like you come in under a cloak of someone else's skin for a while, but then you can shrug it off - you have to find your own voice, if you want to keep doing it. That became a really conscious thing for me.
My lover is like a flower that at the peak time it is luminous like her skin, shines just like her eyes and teeth, spreads its leaves like her hair and in the end they both are mortal.
Like a Shakespearean sonnet that captures the very essence of love, or a painting that brings out the beauty of the human form that is far more than just skin deep, Euler’s equation reaches down into the very depths of existence.
I never thought the touch of another person could make the nerves jangle and dance beneath my skin. It was like I had slept the last few months away and now, suddently, I was waking up.
Words are a powerful aphrodisiac. They have the ability to awaken emotion, to excite the minds and senses. The right words entice, creep and crawl along the skin like the sensuous touch of a skilled lover. THAT my friends, is truly magical indeed...
The moment will arrive when you are comfortable with who you are, and what you are– bald or old or fat or poor, successful or struggling- when you don't feel the need to apologize for anything or to deny anything. To be comfortable in your own skin...
I wasn't completely comfortable in the footy culture because I wasn't that comfortable in my own skin, which I am now. I'd fit in better now, but I don't miss the training and the injuries you get playing footy.
If literature does one thing, it makes you more empathetic by making you live other lives and feel the pain of others. Ideologues don't feel the pain of others because they haven't imaginatively got under their skins.
There are machines that can get rid of your cellulite, so I want to do that. And my friend has just had a machine that has worked on her neck and tightened the elasticity of the skin. You just need a day off work afterwards, so I'm thinking, why not?
In the old days of literature, only the very thick-skinned - or the very brilliant - dared enter the arena of literary criticism. To criticise a person's work required equal measures of erudition and wit, and inferior critics were often the butt of s...
He gazed deeply into my eyes. Placing his hand to my cheek, he caressed my skin with his fingertips. “Ariel, you have a strength that cannot be hindered by anything. A strength that I admire greatly.” - Luca
I don't judge those who can't dream, those who need to pierce their arms to create different worlds under their skin, because I am fortunate in the tools of my escapes
The biblical counselor must always remember that the ROOT problem is deeper than skin; it is sin. The ultimate cure is not culture, but Christ.
Anyway, if the Cetagandans really wanted to assassinate you, they'd hardly do it here. They'd slip something subtle under your skin that wouldn't go off for six months, and then would drop you mysteriously and untraceably in your tracks
I tried to hate you, to forgive you, all just to forget you, but I'm only capable of loving you. You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.
I can taste fear, and lies, on a man's skin, Cavrax." The Master Priest whispered, watching the large pulse on the cleric's neck beat like a caged thing begging for release. "You're lying to me.
No, we wern't telling Teresa. Because she had that same smell on her skin too, that dead hoocow's awful sterile rot, and until I had some answers to throw in her face I was pretending everything was fine.
Mike took a deep breath and locked all his muscles in place, so he didn’t follow her. His fingers tingled where he had touched her skin, it was so soft, he’d never felt anything as soft.
Under her thick pancake makeup, her skin had been pockmarked, but he would stare at her adoringly from his cot at night and imagine her scars were constellations, a secret map to a far-off, happy place.
But she's still afraid that the more she misses him--his face, his skin, the way he looked at her--and the more hope she has that she'll see him again, the more she has to lose.
