Quotes About Appearance

I look and smell,' Aunt Sponge declared, 'as lovely as a rose!

over the years i have discovered a surprising but simple truth about young ladies and it is this: the more beautiful their faces, the less delicate their thoughts.

beautiful she thought she was. Aunt Sponge had a long-handled mirror on her lap, and she kept picking it up and gazing at her own hideous face. 'I look and smell,' Aunt Sponge declared, 'as lovely as a rose! Just feast your eyes upon my face, observe my shapely nose! Behold my heavenly silky locks! And if I take off both my socks You'll see my dainty toes.' 'But don't forget,' Aunt Spiker cried, 'how much your tummy shows!

I couldn't see much of her face because of the blood, but I could tell that she was lovely. She had high cheekbones and large round eyes, pale blue like an autumn sky, and her hair was short and fair. I guessed she was about nine years old.

The picture showed a nine-year-old boy who was so enormously fat he looked as though he had been blown up with a powerful pump.

A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams, and you will always look lovely.

If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it. A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.

Mrs. Twit wasn't born ugly. She'd had quite a nice face when she was young. The ugliness had grown upon her year by year as she got older.

If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it.

If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on their face

I begrudge making a career out of clothes, but Lyndon likes bright colors and dramatic styles that do the most for one's figure, and I try to please him," she was to say. "I've really tried to learn the art of clothes, because you don't sell for what you're worth unless you look well.

Darling, a true lady takes off her dignity with her clothes and does her whorish best. At other times you can be as modest and dignified as your persona requires.

But, do you know, once you get used to it's rather cute. I mean, if a girl looks alright to start with, she still looks alright with her head smooth.

But, do you know, once you get used to it, it's rather cute. I mean, if a girl looks all right to start with, she still looks all right with her head smooth.

Look neat when you look for work, I always say—I do declare I won't hardly open the screen door to give a man a handout if he don't wear a necktie.

The socio-sexual system feedbacks run from front brain through hormonal and neuropeptide systems to genitalia to breasts and arms (hugging, cuddling, fucking circuitry). A good sexual imprint creates the archetypal bright eyes and bushy tails, while a bad imprint creates a tense (muscularly armored) and zombie-like appearance.

It is accepted by all schools of philosophy that the world presents only appearances to us. Facts are deduced from the appearances, according to the various factions, by PR (pure reason) or by a combination of PR and SD (sense data) in tandem, or by PR and SD aided and abetted by creative intuition, but in any case, they are deduced, not given. Hume and Nietzsche seem to be alone in claiming that what is called a fact is just another appearance which somebody has decided to believe is a fact.

All appearances seem to be facts, at first, to those to whom they appear.

The thing about monsters is, you want to kill them until you meet them, and when you meet them they don't seem monstrous, and killing them begins to seem unkind.

Her toenails were painted. It didn't help much. Never saw a toenail I liked.

She was wearing something in purple suede that was too short for a skirt and too long for a belt.

In the bank they did the same kind of stuff the fortune-teller and the bookie had done. But they dressed better.

You look like … like a boxer, or like somebody in a Tarzan movie." "Cheetah," I said.

She laughed in the darkness. "Of course it is," she said. "That's the story of your life. What doesn't matter. It's how you look when you do it.