It doesn't ever occur to you, as you fashion your mask so carefully, that it will grow into your skin and graft itself, come to seem irremovable.
My day-old son is plenty scrawny, his mouth is wide with screams, or yawny; His ears seem larger than he's needing, His nose is flat, his chin's receding. His skin is very, very red, He has no hair upon his head, And yet I'm proud as proud can be, To hear you say he looks like me.
Drink a bunch of water and get facials regularly. I take care of my skin.
Negroid traits, dark skin, flat, thick nose.
I knew the facts of death before I knew the facts of life. There never was a time when I didn't see the skull beneath the skin.
I inscribe three lines, hush hush hush, into my skin. Ghosts trickle out.
Then I placed the blade next to the skin on my palm. A tingle arched across my scalp. The floor tipped up at me and my body spilled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next.
Do you know what happened the last time I loved someone?” Growled against my skin with such tempered violence that my shiver turned into a shudder. I nodded. “No you don’t. ” Another lethal growl. “You only know how she died. Let me tell you how she lived— in fear. My actions horrified her, as they horrify you. My enemies exploited her, as they exploit you, so it was more than an advancing army that made her throw herself from our roof. It was me.
I can understand going for Botox at 45-50, when you want to keep things in place. But I don't understand 25 year olds going for Botox or under the knife. You don't require it. Your skin is fresh, young. Why would you do that to yourself?
To a newspaperman, a human being is an item with skin wrapped around it.
I was really inspired by photos of the "Forgotten Man" during the Depression, when men were wearing the last suit that they had at the time, just trying not to starve to death. It's the kind of suit that is worn in the rain and shrinks on the body and becomes a second skin, which is different than someone who willfully dropped out.
I wanted to take a damaged individual in a damaged society with damaged relationships between nations and take a look at how this individual survives amongst them, and that for me as a writer is the connection that you needed to get inside the skin of the main character and wonder how he's going to cope with all this.
He wants to do you in cause the color of your skin.
Theta crashed next to them on the thick zebra-skin rug. “I’m embalmed. ” “Potted and splificated?” “Ossified to the gills. Time for night-night.
Fox is notorious for having a very thick skin about taking shots at themselves.
All minorities think they're immune, but we're absolutely part of the one in five that gets skin cancer! It's a myth, and myths are meant to be debunked!
There's nothing sexy about skin and bone. You gotta have some junk in the trunk.
The skin is forming because of proteins, just like if you cook milk or anything else that's got a coagulant protein in it.
I know that having the perfect body doesn't fix all your problems, or make you love yourself more. To me, it's all about being comfortable in your own skin.
I doubt you’ve ever been forced to nonstop bang a woman hyped up on the undead voodoo version of Spanish fly, have you?” His chuckle was soft. “Can’t say that I have, Kitten. ” “Yeah, well, consider me an original. ” This time, when his lips brushed across my skin, it lasted more than a moment. “I always have.