Quotes About Appearance

Never judge someone by the way he looks or a book by it's covered; for inside those tattered pages, there's a lot to be discovered.

Speirs was an officer with a reputation. Slim, fairly tall, dark hair, stern, ruggedly handsome, he cultivated the look of a leader, and acted it.

Finn O'Finnegan looked like a rogue and walked like a rascal, so it was widely thought that he was at least one or the other.

I pass flurries of undergrads who, despite their proudly proclaimed diversity, look more and more the same.

He was twenty-two years old, his skin the colour of weak coffee with plenty of milk. He had soft brown eyes that belonged more to a lovesick spaniel than the tried and tested assassin he was. His beard was long and bushy but his nails were neatly clipped and glistened as if they had been varnished. Around his head was a knotted black scarf with the white insignia of Islamic State, the caliphate that claimed authority over all Muslims around the world. His weapon was lying on a sandbag

Straightaway, they started chatting and telling me their names: Fred and Rose West. I was surprised that they were married, I wouldn't have fancied someone like him, and she was pretty. I felt she could have done a lot better for herself, but they seemed happy and he was quite charming, in a roguish kind of way.

Elphaba: "I just wish ..." Fiyero: "What?" Elphaba: "I wish I could be beautiful ... for you." Fiyero: "Elphaba ..." Elphaba: "Don't tell me that I am. You don't need to lie to me." Fiyero: "It's not lying! It's looking at things another way.

He had short brown curls for hair

Never argue with a man whose tattoos outnumber his teeth.

Never judge someone by the way he looks or a book by the way it's covered; for inside those tattered pages, there's a lot to be discovered.

Leon, no offense, but you don't exactly look like a hockey player." "I told 'em I was a goalie. That's where they put the guy who can't skate, right? Just like in baseball when they put the worst player at catcher.

Unless you're a hairdresser, you can't have a ponytail and call yourself Kenny when you're forty. Not in Michigan, anyway.

HOW TO BE A GIRL ON A DATE

It hadn't turned out at all like the picture in the cookbook, that loaf. It looked like a roll of fiberglass insulation coated in gravel.

You've baked a really lovely cake, but then you've used dog shit for frosting.

Comedy may be big business but it isn't pretty.

When I say that life is like an onion, I mean this: if you don't do anything with it, it goes rotten. So far, that's no different from other vegetables. But when an onion goes bad, it can either do it from the inside, or the outside. So sometimes you see one that looks good, but the core is rotten. Other times, you can see a bad spot on it, but if you cut that out, the rest is fine. Tastes sharp, but that's what you paid for, isn't it?

Never - no, not for one moment - believe that any human being, with sense in his skull, will love or respect you on account of your fine or costly clothes.

I wear mascara, eyeliner, a bit of foundation and blusher. I always think lip gloss makes you appear properly made-up. Slap it on and suddenly you look glamorous.

I don't get enough sleep so I always have undereye bags.

I think all the junk food and irregular eating and sleeping times from my trainee days made me look the way I do today.

I once wore a maroon leather dress with sleeves, which looked fabulous in real life but didn't look great on TV. It was shiny, and it looked like something Pinky Tuscadero would wear.

Always roll up the sleeves on your shirt. It gives the impression that you're working, even if you're not.

I had to learn how to dress and create an optical illusion where you're more slender.