[after seeing Taylor shave off his beard] Lucius: Why did you do that? Scrape off your hair? George Taylor: In my world, when I left it, only kids your age wore beards.
Stanley Kowalski: [sarcastically: picking up Blanche's tiara] Well what is that? A crown for an empress? Stella: A rhinestone tiara she wore to a costume ball! Stanley Kowalski: [serious] What is rhinestone? Stella: Next door to glass.
When I earnt my first money, I went to a shop and bought jeans and a top. But then I wore them both for such a long time that finally my model agency said, 'You should buy something else!' I was saving the money because it was the first time I'd ever...
I remember when I was growing up, I always wore glasses and so if I was on-stage or just being able to move around playing sports, I was never really able to because I had glasses holding me back. Wearing contacts has just been very helpful.
This is actually something no one knows, but my mom was really the one who created the entire style for 'Teen Witch.' I'm dead serious. She was super involved, and is super creative, so I wore a lot of my actual clothes in the movie. Truly, Louise wa...
Miss Jenkyns wore a cravat, and a little bonnet like a jockey-cap, and altogether had the appearance of a strong-minded woman; although she would have despised the modern idea of women being equal to men. Equal, indeed! she knew they were superior.
She wore a flowered blue dress of the type whores naturally favored, and that thing was so tight that when she moved, the daisies got all mixed up with the azaleas. She walked like a warm room full of smoke.
But it was so much more. In that white blouse you wore, you looked like Grace Kelly, sharing a joke with a schnauzer, then you smiled at me and i was included, the three of us alone together. I thought, there's a woman I could die for.
It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.
I once had a boyfriend who couldn't write unless he was wearing a necktie and a dress shirt, which I thought was really weird, because this was a long time ago, and no one I knew ever wore dress shirts, let alone neckties; it was like he was a grown-...
She is beautiful, soft hair nearly midnight in color, large eyes nearly as dark, and ivory skin like the petals of the lily, and she wore a fragrance of jasmine. But 'tis her willfulness that I enjoyed the most. And her resourcefulness.
I wore a long white dress shirt and no pants, so it looked like a white dress. I felt like a bride in love. Well, at least until my boss fired me.
The line of traffic advancing towards the rising sun looked like a procession of the returning dead. Every one of them, solitaries in clean shirts, smoking, checking mirrors to see if their reflections were still there, wore dark glasses.
I am afraid I never wore a deerstalker, or smoked the big pipe – mere embellishments by an illustrator, intended to give me distinction, I suppose, and sell magazines. I didn’t get much say in the matter.
He wore red, white, and blue, but he didn’t look patriotic—he looked like a sloppily wrapped birthday present. But it’s not his fault. I tried to wrap him as tight as I could without restricting movement.
There had been a computer he had also built himself on the farthest corner of the room, but he had sold that a couple of months ago to buy me a necklace. I wore it then, it was two silver hearts linked as one. That’s what he and I were, we we’re ...
Her golden hair moved like a hundred moths, all trying to saturate themselves in sunlight, while his hair was spiked like cleats, and he wore a shoe for a hat. He said it helped him to headstands while looking up her dress.
Would it make you more comfortable if I wore a condom while I shook your hand? I could wear it on my penis, or stretch it over my hand. I don’t know these things. I’m new to politics.
Sometimes she wore Levi's with white-suede fringe sewn down the legs and a feathered Indian headdress, sometimes old fifties' taffeta dresses covered with poetry written in glitter, or dresses made of kids' sheets printed with pink piglets or Disney ...
I wore a groove in the kitchen floor with endless trips to the fridge, hoping against hope that I had somehow missed a plateful of cold sausages on the previous 4,000 excursions. Then, for no obvious reason, I decided to buy a footstool.
I felt that I ostracized myself by my behavior, by the past, by living with all the regrets of my mistakes, that I sort of wore a hair shirt and beat myself up most of the day thinking and regretting why did I make such a mistake? Why have I made so ...
