Quotes About Appearance

A woman needs to be put together more than a man. If she isn't, she looks like she's not up for the job. There's a different standard. Those are the rules, and I have to live by them.

In the spiritual body moreover, man appears such as he is with respect to love and faith, for everyone in the spiritual world is the effigy of his own love, not only as to the face and the body, but also as to the speech and the actions.

I hate that thing that if you are over 45, and you're going to be on telly or make films, you have to do all this stupid stuff to your face. I would no more let someone stick a needle in my forehead than fly to the moon.

Everything's fine today, that is our illusion.

Being slim is the new elitism. Thinness today says that you are richer, smarter and more successful than the overweight masses.

A true portrait should, today and a hundred years from today, the Testimony of how this person looked and what kind of human being he was.

I don't like it when you look too styled and wear one designer from head to toe.

Women tell me they won't date a guy with bad shoes. There are good-looking guys with good-looking outfits, and then really bad-looking square toe I-don't-even-want-to-mention-the-label kind of shoes. There is no reason for that. Again, invest in something that looks proper. A great pair of shoes can make your old outfit look great, too.

I'm very conscious of what I wear, and what I say. I know that if I go out, there will be 10 people who will notice me from head to toe.

From my hair to my toes to my nails. Everything's fake. Everything! Even my heart is fake.

When my first daughter was born, my husband held her in his hands and said, 'My God, she's so beautiful.' I unwrapped the baby from her blankets. She was average size, with long thin fingers and a random assortment of toes. Her eyes were close set, and she had her father's hooked nose. It looked better on him.

I don't like to see men's toes - especially if they aren't groomed.

I can recall that nobody ever went out the door that wasn't dressed nicely, even though it was the Depression. I particularly remember on Sunday, the day we all went to church, if you didn't have it together, you kind of stayed in the house.

Life will take its toll on all of us. We get injured, we get old. It's really sad to try to run away from these harsh realities of life. Looks are not everything. I am not going to look beautiful all the time.

My mind was a little distracted from these anxieties by our encountering a singularly beautiful girl. I should mention, perhaps, lest I be thought in any wat to have misled my readers, that her figure was pudgy, her complexion sallow and her hair a rather drab shade of brown. These possible defects, however, pass unnoticed in a young woman whose expression is that of a medieval saint after a particularly satisfactory vision of the Eternal City.

lavish coverage in the Boston Post gave Kennedy those three key elements of the Gilded Age business model: the appearance of wealth, a supply of other people's money to speculate with, and a dignified reputation.

Either you're standing under your halos, eyes up to heaven, or you're munching apples in their faces and flashing your bush. I'm not even sure they know which they prefer. The best you can do is choose when you change your costume.

A woman wearing saggy old workout clothes that she never worked out in, that had somehow become her pajamas and the clothes she went to the grocery store in and the clothes she wore around the house all day, with her dirty hair pulled back in a ponytail and who looked like she'd just been run over by a sedan.

Houses had the meanest set of white people in them. Pretty in their living but nasty in their ways.

Martin smiled, the slow curve of his mouth revealing a dimple in his left cheek. Violet frowned, as she did every time she saw that dimple. It didn't belong on his face. It was as simple as that. Dimples were impish and mischievous. They spoke of laughter and pleasure, not three piece suits and pipes and slippers and cardigans with elbow patches.

I thought you said he was your twin?" "Under that hair and beard, he is.

I suppose she was pretty-at least everyone seemed to think so-but her mouth was small and ungenerous, and her eyes was hard. Her voice was high-pitched and always rather breathless, and she lisped slightly. The quality of her voice was childlike, innocent, and that was a deception worthy of the Serpent in Eden.

He was big, taller than me and bulky, with dark red-brown hair queued back like a flashie, and light brown eyes that looked as clever and fake as glass.

The bright flower was like a face. Somehow, the beauty and life of it were surprising in the plain room, like a gay little child who might suddenly appear in a doorway.