Quotes About Faces

Did you know - and studies prove this - that 98 percent of all the Visine in this country runs down the side of people's faces?

The crew members for 'The Price Is Right' at night are the same guys who work 'Y&R' during the day. It's even in the same studio. I've been in the place for 15 years. So all the faces at 'The Price Is Right' are familiar.

Though dreams can be deceiving, like faces are to hearts, they serve for sweet relieving, when fantasy and reality lie too far apart.

Yet one more encounter with new faces, he thought, as he watched a tree and a cloud move past in slow motion, and eventually this one would also blur into the others; all that would remain distinct, perhaps, would be a few words that only he would deem significant, or an angle of a face, which in turn his mind would link with other things, some oddity of accent, or some other words confusing time and place and people to look for a pattern, some essence.

A few steps from the dais, we stop. I see flashes of stunned faces on both sides of the aisle, and most of all, I see the Imperator suddenly frozen in his golden chair, his expression turned to stone, a frown gathering.

Peppercorn is black and so is the beauty mark of the moon-faces -both rend the heart, yet between them lie enormous spaces

Night came down around them, and the windows gave them back their faces, blurred into generalities.

He remembered the faces of his friends, bereft poor corpses, abandoned of life.

A city presents many different faces, and it is up to the traveller to assemble the proper composite.

The reverend insists we occupy the first pew. He rang us up not long ago, tipsy-- he's a tippler-- saying that our faces brought him closer to God. And it's true, we're terribly good-looking people.

Evil is no faceless stranger, living in a distant neighborhood. Evil has a wholesome, hometown face, with merry eyes and an open smile. Evil walks among us, wearing a mask which looks like all our faces.

She'd been acutely aware that terror, betrayal, and cruelty had a human face, but she had not sufficiently appreciated that courage, kindness, and love had a human face as well.

Father raised his hands. Gentlemen, gentlemen,please! he interjected. I would like to remind you there is freedom of practice in this country. Three apoplectic faces turned to him. Yes! Prac tice --singular! the wise men screa,ed in unison. Three index fingers, like punctuation marks, jumped to attention in the air to emphasize their point.

She sensed in him loneliness, hunger for the sound of a voice. She had heard her uncle speak of the loneliness of lonely camp-fires and how all men working or hiding or lost in the wilderness would see sweet faces in the embers and be haunted by soft voices.

Some dead with fighting faces and eyes flung wide open in wonder. Death had found them watching, trying to see beyond seeing.

Epochs put their mark on men. These two individuals proved the truth of that axiom by the opposing historic tints that were visible in their faces, in their conversation, in their ideas, and in their clothes.

Faces, places … such and such a face appeared at such and such a place, such and such a face disappeared at such and such a place, such and such a face was always in the third seat from the left when she got on, such and such a face was always hanging from the strap by the door when she got off … same faces, same places. But not today! Today those faces are two hours behind Courtney Hall, it's different faces today, let's have a look at them, what do we see?

he looked up and around him in awe and amazement. And saw the faces in the architecture.

There were human faces among the angels and demons, mortals among the immortals, flesh amidst the stones. He strained his eyes to quarter the fluted, sculpted masonry. There they were. They were not so hard to find now that he knew what to look for. "Hello!" he called.

And in the sixteen-o'clock dream the faces looked up as she bicycled overhead, looked up from their rained-on lives to say, look, oh look, look at her, isn't it wonderful, magical, marvelous

She looked at the faces of the off-shifting workers, gray and featureless as paper handkerchiefs.

Weave, weave, weave, you streaks of rain! I am dissolved and woven again... Thousands of faces rise and vanish before me. Thousands of voices weave in the rain.

You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago--they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.

How rich is anyone who can simply see human faces!