Quotes About Face

Callistanas aren't so bad either," I said, looking down at my satchel. "That 'pain in the ass' screeching saved me from a face full of acid." Adrian put his hand to his heart in mock horror. "Sage, did you just swear?

Sorry," I said through gritted teeth, shoving hard—and failing—to break his grip. "My eternity doesn't involve being part of the undead mafia." "I know," he said. I could have sworn there was sadness in his face but later convinced myself I must have imagined it. "Eternity will be lonely without you.

And yes, even in the poor lighting, I could see that she was beautiful—in a deadly way—and that struck me too. Her pictures hadn't done her justice. Long, dark hair framed a face filled with the sort of hard-edged beauty a man might easily dash his heart against.

It was no good. The moonbeam was like a silver blade slicing through the room on to her face. The

Mr. Twit was one of these very hairy-faced men. The whole of his face except for his forehead, his eyes and his nose, was covered with thick hair. The stuff even sprouted in revolting tufts out of his nostrils and ear-holes.

He was smiling now, and a sort of golden glow of pleasure was spreading over his round pink face. I saw his tongue come out to lick the white moustache, as though searching for one last drop of that precious whisky.

I do not know what solace she found in the tiny, stricken face,' Terry said, 'but now I see the face of a humble carpenter who was moved to tell people to be kind to one another – the golden rule of so many wise men – and for his pains was tortured to death by a tyrant at the behest of zealots. Perhaps the message may be to ignore tyrants and tumble zealots.

His expression was innocent, his eyes were not. What sort of creature had a face like that?

The light shone down on his plump face, reflected from his rimless glasses, bathed the pinkness of his scalp beneath the thinning sandy hair as he bent his head to resume reading.

She raised her face defiantly, and the sharp shadow line slashed across her neck. For a moment, it looked as though somebody had just cut off Lila's head...

Bud Orso was in his early forties, with a chubby scoutmaster's face topped by a crown of short black hair. He was waiting when Scott stepped off the elevator, which Scott had not expected. "Bud

Kids can say anything in a mocking, singsong voice, and make it sound uncool. "You have ears. Nyah-nyah-na-nyah-nyah, you have eee-ars and they're on the side of your fay-ace!

Mother is fading for him, her face receding into shadows, her memory diminishing with each passing day, leaking like sand from a fist.

He had a face right out of film noir, a face meant to be shot in black and white, parallel shadows of venetian blinds slashing across it, a plume of cigarette smoke spiraling beside it.

I hate it when she tabs a line, Ivy whispered to Kisten in the corner. You ever see anything freakier than that? You should see the face she makes when she— Shut up, Kist! I exclaimed, my eyes flashing open to find him grinning at me.

A stray strand of Ivy's black hair was hitting my face as I rode behind her.

The revolt seemed to Nadia more a waste than ever, an unfocused spasm of rage, the ultimate cutting off one's nose to spite one's face.

No ale for the girl, Birgit, Aidan said to the woman. Do we not have milk? Regin's face heated. And all the worse, because she would dearly love some milk.

Splat. Without thought, she'd thrown mud all over his face. So much for femme fatale. He sputtered in disbelief, then roared, "What the ever-livin' feck—

La Dorada skulked into view. She was half-mummified, but sodden. Gooey. Regin let out a low whistle. "The Mummy Returns meets Dingoes Ate My Face.

Studying my face, Death narrowed his gaze. "Have you a plan, creature?" "Can't read my thoughts anymore?" "Perhaps not. But I can tell you are malingering." "Malingering? I don't speak S.A.T.

Wicked Abyss, page 279, Lila, Princess Calliope of Sylvan to Abyssian Sian Infernas, King of Pandemonia There's a face to the violence you love so much, a cost that the Morior never have to pay. Why wouldn't you love war? You never feel the toll like the rest of us.

If ever I had any doubts about the fundamental realities of religion, they could always be dispelled by one memory- the light upon my father's face as he came back from early communion.

I take a step toward him and grin cheerfully. "With all due respect, I don't see the Republic tacking up wanted posters with your pretty face on them.