Gory stuff can be shocking but it doesn't really scare me. I'd say the kind of stuff that gets under my skin is the unknown. You hear a knock behind a wall and you don't know what it is. Is there something there or not?
What have I done to her?" Gabriel muttered to himself as he crossed the room to crank open a window. Cool air washed over his skin. "What the devil did she do to me?
I did what most writers do at their beginnings: emulated my elders, imitated my peers, thus turning away from any possibility of discovering truths beneath my skin and behind my eye.
At the end of the day I went to this place where your memories left footsteps on my skin and the breath of your touch stained my desire. Yea, it was one of those nights where I needed you the most.
My characters are more like men than these real men are, see. They're rough and rude, they got hands and they got bellies. They hate and they lust; break the skin of civilization and you find the ape, roaring and red-handed.
Before you could actually have face-lifts, they would pull your skin around the back of your head with rubber bands, where they would tape it. And then you'd have to wear a wig over it to hide the rubber bands. It was not the most comfortable.
You know Latin people? African-American people? How our skin ages more slowly? Even though we're dramatic, we move our faces, we eat higher-fat foods, we're the ones with fewer wrinkles - it makes you wonder.
And as a writer, one of the things that I've always been interested in doing is actually invading your comfort space. Because that's what we're supposed to do. Get under your skin, and make you react.
Take that one thing you don't like about yourself and more often than not that's the one thing that makes you more special. Whether it's that gap in your teeth, or that mole you never liked, or your skin color.
And the next time I reach for my pen, it won’t be to write about you again. The sun will feel warm on my skin once more, and I will get drunk on the colors of the sky instead of tasting hangovers dripping from strangers’ lips.
There's something majestic about a 30-pound Chinook salmon roasted and served whole - people get excited when you present it with the head and tail on. It has beautifully browned skin and extraordinary bright red flesh when you cut into it.
For when they see the people swarm into the streets, and daily wet to the skin with rain, and yet cannot persuade them to go out of the rain, they do keep themselves within their houses, seeing they cannot remedy the folly of the people.
'Nip/Tuck' did make me very comfortable in my own skin, no pun intended. I had to be stripped down a lot, and you're kind of in front of the whole world, and it teaches you to accept yourself and be comfortable with yourself real quickly.
I don't think because I hang out with enough black people, I'm gonna turn black. What kind of rationalization is that? I'm just friends with people that I like. I don't care what skin color you are.
I am always keen to discover something new, but my advice is always to exfoliate. Get rid of those dead, dry cells; then the new skin is ready for moisturising, and you find your inner dewy, youthful glow. It's in there somewhere.
With the Internet, we can communicate instantly across the globe, but the net also makes it possible for us to shrink ever further into our own skins - a state of being that neither suits the human temperament nor provides ground for further growth.
I really believe in less is more in terms of makeup. I try not to wear too much foundation. I like to see my skin coming through. I like to see my freckles. I just think that's the most youthful look.
What I am is a heretic who's recanted and, thereby, in everyone's eyes, saved his soul. Everyone's eyes but one, who knows deep down inside that all he has saved is his skin.
Some of us teach ourselves and our children to love the superficial outer; our looks, hair, skin, clothes rather than the greater beauty that resides within whereas it is that inner beauty that really defines you and who you truly are
I made the decision to take on board the critical feedback. Reviews are something you can easily ignore as a performer or writer but I chose to not ignore them here and I think that I benefited. I think I'm stronger for it - and I have a tougher skin...
The sound of the pages turning was the sound of magic. The dry liquid feel of paper under fingertips was what magic felt like.
