Frown Lines Quotes

The most unsettling part of the visit, however, came when the doctor casually asked if I'd ever considered having any work done, as they were having a special on Botox. Then I stabbed him in the knee with a pen. But just in my mind, because you can never find a pen when you really need one. In reality I just told him that I wasn't a fan of paying money to inject paralyzing poison into my face and that I was actually quite proud of my laugh lines, which I view as a badge that tells people I'm not an asshole. He countered that it was really the frown line between my eyebrows that he'd focus on. I pointed out that I'd gone through a lot of living to get that frowny wrinkle and I wasn't about to erase it now.
"MY HUSBAND MADE THAT LINE," I said, with a defensiveness that surprised even me. "This line represents every time I have ever argued with him about everything in the damn world. It's a line that says, 'Don't cross me or I will cut you.' It's practically a medal for time served and I EARNED IT. ~ Jenny Lawson

You do not see what I see
How can you when all you do is use your eyes
But I look deeper and further than the deepest ocean
I notice the frown lines and the smile lines ~ Soulla Christodoulou

Is this about my birth parents?"
The frown lines on her mother's forehead deepened. "Well, yes..."
"Did Freya know them?" Anna asked. She'd always wondered. Freya had been such a big part of her life since the beginning. Maybe Freya had known something Anna didn't. Silence hung over the room as they stared at one another. "It's okay," Anna finally said. "If you know who they are and don't want to tell me, I'll understand. It doesn't matter anyway." She reached for their hands. "You've been the best parents anyone could ever hope for."
Papa and Ma reached in for a hug at the same time. They were a family of huggers and laughters. Anna clung to them, not wanting to let go. ~ Jen Calonita

I'm so excited to meet you, Emma," she says. "Now I know why Galen won't shut up about you." Her smile seems to contradict the decades' worth of frown lines rippling from her mouth. In fact, it's so genuine and warm that I almost believe she is excited to meet me. But isn't that what all moms say when introduced to their son's girlfriend? You're not his girlfriend, stupid. Or does she think we're dating, too?
"Thanks, I think," I smile generically. "I'm sure he's told you a million times how clumsy I am." Because how else am I supposed to take that?
"A million and one, actually. Wish you'd do something different for a change," Rayna drawls without looking up.
Rayna has outstayed her welcome on my nerves. "I could teach you how to color in the lines," I shoot back. The look she gives me could sour milk.
Toraf puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. "I think you're doing a great job, my princess."
She wiggles out of his grasp and shoves the polish brush back into its bottle. "If you're so good at it, why don't you paint your toes? They probably stay injured all the time from you running into stuff. Am I right?"
Yeah? And? I'm about to set her straight on a few things-like how wearing a skirt and sitting Indian-style ruins the effect of pretty toes anyway-when Galen's mom puts a gentle hand on my arm and clears her throat. "Emma, I'm so glad you're feeling better," she says. "I bet dinner would just about complete your recove ~ Anna Banks

All I saw were flaws- the spots on my chin, the hint of baby fat around the jaw, the way my unruly flyaway hair wisped out from the elastic band.

"Look," he said. "The reason it's not coming together is because you're drawing the features, not the person. You're more than a collection of frown lines and doubts. The person I see when I look at you..." He stopped and I waited, feeling his eyes on me, trying not to squirm beneath the intensity of his gaze. "I see someone brave," he said at last. "I see someone who's trying very hard. I see someone who's nervous, but stronger than she knows. I see someone who's worried but doesn't need to be."

"Draw that." " Draw the person I see. ~ Ruth Ware

Josh and Rashmi are making out-I can actually see tongue-so I turn to my bread and grapes.How biblical of me.
The grapes are smaller than I'm used to, and the skin is slightly textured. Is that dirt? I dip my napkin in water and dab at the tiny purple globes. It helps, but they're still sort of rough. Hmm. St. Clair and Meredith stop talking. I glance up to find them staring at me in matching bemusement. "What?"
"Nothing," he says. "Continue your grape bath."
"They were dirty."
"Have you tried one?" she asks.
"No,they've still got these little mud flecks." I hold one up to show them. St. Clair plucks it from my fingers and pops it into his mouth.I'm hypnotized by his lips, his throat, as he swallows.
I hesitate. Would I rather have clean food or his good opinion?
He picks up another and smiles. "Open up."
I open up.
The grape brushes my lower lip as he slides it in. It explodes in my mouth, and I'm so startled by the juice that I nearly spit it out. The flavor is intense, more like grape candy than actual fruit. To say I've tasted nothing like it before is an understatement. Meredith and St. Clair laugh. "Wait until you try them as wine," she says.
St. Clair twirls a forkful of pasta. "So. How was French class?"
The abrupt subject change makes me shudder. "Professeur Gillet is scary. She's all frown lines." I tear off a piece of baguette. The crust crackles, and the inside is light and springy. Oh,man. I shove another hun ~ Stephanie Perkins

The painter doesn't try to reproduce the scene before him ... he simplifies and eliminates until he knows exactly what stirred him, sets this down in color and line as simply and as powerfully as possible and so translates his impression into an aesthetic emotion. ~ David Milne

Dogmatic toleration is nonsense: I would no more tolerate the teaching of Calvinism to children if I had power to persecute it than the British Raj tolerated suttee in India. Every civilized authority must draw a line between the tolerable and the intolerable. ~ George Bernard Shaw

It is principally for the sake of the leg that a change in the dress of man is so much to be desired. The leg is the best part of the figure and the best leg is the man s. Man should no longer disguise the long lines, the strong forms, in those lengths of piping or tubing that are of all garments the most stupid. ~ Alice Meynell

Most of us stand poised at the edge of brilliance, haunted by the knowledge of our proximity, yet still demonstrably on the wrong side of the line, our dealings with reality undermined by a range of minor yet critical psychological flaws (a little too much optimism, an unprocessed rebelliousness, a fatal impatience or sentimentality). We are like an exquisite high-speed aircraft which for lack of a tiny part is left stranded beside the runway, rendered slower than a tractor or bicycle. ~ Alain De Botton

Nowhere is it ordained that history moves in a straight line. ~ Barack Obama

I remember threading my fingers through his and pressing our life lines together ~ Amy Zhang

I always worried I'd forget my lines or say the wrong words or the audience would laugh in the wrong places. ~ Lawrence Welk

Elizabeth snapped awake in a terrified instant as the door to her bed chamber was flung open near dawn, and Ian stalked into the darkened room. "Do you want to go first, or shall I?" he said tightly, coming to stand at the side of her bed.
"What do you mean?" she asked in a trembling voice.
"I mean," he said, "that either you go first and tell me why in hell you suddenly find my company repugnant, or I'll go first and tell you how I feel when I don't know where you are or why you want to be there!"
"I've sent word to you both nights."
"You sent a damned note that arrived long after nightfall both times, informing me that you intended to sleep somewhere else. I want to know why!"
He has men beaten like animals, she reminded herself.
"Stop shouting at me," Elizabeth said shakily, getting out of bed and dragging the covers with her to hide herself from him.
His brows snapped together in an ominous frown. "Elizabeth?" he asked, reaching for her.
"Don't touch me!" she cried.
Bentner's voice came from the doorway. "Is aught amiss, my lady?" he asked, glaring bravely at Ian.
"Get out of here and close that damned door behind you!" Ian snapped furiously.
"Leave it open," Elizabeth said nervously, and the brave butler did exactly as she said.
In six long strides Ian was at the door, shoving it closed with a force that sent it crashing into its frame, and Elizabeth began to vibrate with terror. When he turned around and start ~ Judith McNaught

Each religion is a brave guess at the authorship of Hamlet. Yet, as far as the play goes does it make any difference whether Shakespeare or Bacon wrote it? Would it make any difference to the actors if their parts happened out of nothingness, if they found themselves acting on the stage because of some gross and unpardonable accident? Would it make any difference if the playwright gave them the lines or whether they composed them themselves, so long as the lines were properly spoken? Would it make any difference to the characters if A Midsummer Night's Dream was really a dream? ~ Lewis Mumford

It is remarkable, the lines that connect people. You can strike up a conversation with someone, a stranger even, and discover that you have a friend in common, that your aunts were from the same town, or that his best friend can grease your way into Bhutan. It seems on those occasions that we are all like strands of DNA, spun around each other in a double helix. ~ Francis Slakey

I was surprised to see the meeting was of Communists and the whole meeting was along Communist lines. ~ Edward Dmytryk

A truly vibrant and creative culture depends on a system of education which is not divided along class and sectarian lines. ~ Tom Paulin

There's probably one more story about Bosnia that I'd like to do, because I spent a fair amount of time on the Serb side of the lines, which isn't apparent in the other books. ~ Joe Sacco

It is said,' said the Aga Morat, 'that blindness of the eyes is a lighter thing than blindness of the perceptive faculties of the mind. The sun is high: the perception is dazzled. One has made divers chambers available to us in these poor houses for an hour. Let us retire and, by giving ease to the flesh, bring new light also to the proper functions of the mind. There, for the Hakim's servant Mr Blyth, and the lady. In this chamber, Crawford Efendi and I shall have much to discuss.… Sweet to be taken up, you say, as medicine is by the lip. Such a creature I enjoy, thin-skinned, tender and delicate, light of flesh and goodly in make, impulsive in walk and beautiful in the justness of stature. Communing thus, shall not our dreaming souls melt?'

For a moment, Lymond did not reply. Then he said, in the same level voice, 'It is written before God, that after this hour we depart all four, in good health to Djerba?'

The Aga Morat had risen. Looking down, his heavy face creased in a smile. 'It is written,' he said.

Slowly, Lymond rose also. He looked neither at Jerott nor at Marthe, but stepped straight out from under the awning and confronted the Aga. In the blinding white light, the fine lines of his skin were all suddenly visible, and his eyes by contrast quite dark. But his hair, uncut since Marseilles, shone mint-gold in the sun. 'If it is so agreed,' Lymond said, 'I am solicitous for thee, as thou art for me.' And without pausing, he followed th ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Anna has a quality." Matthew raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "The French would call it jolie laide." Cordelia knew French well enough to frown. "Pretty-ugly? She's not ugly!" "It doesn't mean that," Matthew said. "It means unusually pretty. Oddly beautiful. It denotes having a face with character. ~ Cassandra Clare

During a race where everyone holds their own truth, the finish line is a surprise. ~ Akiane Kramarik

Obviously a drawing of a person is not a real person, but a drawing of a line is a real line. ~ Sol LeWitt

With no bottom line, it's hard to know wrong from right. But I ain't ever satisfied. ~ John Mellencamp

Never let a red line become the cage from which there is no escape. Constricting yourself in statements without any actions coming forth in the future in not engaging in compromise or negotiation will hang you on a tightrope by your own tongue. More talk, less squawk may just be the key to grace in unlocking a sense of mutual respect. Thumping a chest and making a threat from many a mile away from a situation is good for an ability to show off how well one can speak in broad tones. Yet, to sit down across from someone and speak to them as an equal, would go a lot further in balancing the plateau of respect shown. Maybe the red line will fly away and the need to always cling to it shall diminish with ears that truly listen to one another - A.H. Scott 3/3/14 ~ A.H. Scott

A new child in the house is a huge tourist attraction. It's like Disneyland, except there the lines are longer and no one brings casseroles. ~ Paul Reiser

Evictions were deserved, understood to be the outcome of individual failure. They "helped get rid of the riffraff," some said. No one thought the poor more undeserving than the poor themselves.

In years past, renters opposed landlords and saw themselves as a "class" with shared interests and a unified purpose. During the early twentieth century, tenants organized against evictions and unsanitary conditions. When landlords raised rents too often or too steeply, tenants went so far as to stage rent strikes. Strikers joined together to withhold rent and form picket lines, risking eviction, arrest, and beatings by hired thugs. They were not an especially radical bunch, these strikers. Most were ordinary mothers and fathers who believed landlords were entitled to modest rent increases and fair profits, but not "price gouging." In New York City, the great rent wars of the Roaring Twenties forced a state legislature to impose rent controls that remain the country's strongest to this day.

Petitions, picket lines, civil disobedience - this kind of political mobilization required a certain shift in vision. ~ Matthew Desmond

At dusk they pour from the sky, ~ Anthony Doerr

Difficulty itself may be a path toward concentration - expended effort weaves us into a task, and successful engagement, however laborious, becomes also a labor of love. The work of writing brings replenishment even to the writer dealing with painful subjects or working out formal problems, and there are times when suffering's only open path is through an immersion in what is. The eighteenth-century Urdu poet Ghalib described the principle this way: 'For the raindrop, joy is in entering the river - / Unbearable pain becomes its own cure.'
"Difficulty then, whether of life or of craft, is not a hindrance to an artist. Sartre called genius 'not a gift, but the way a person invents in desperate circumstances.' Just as geological pressure transforms ocean sediment into limestone, the pressure of an artist's concentration goes into the making of any fully realized work. Much of beauty, both in art and in life, is a balancing of the lines of forward-flowing desire with those of resistance - a gnarled tree, the flow of a statue's draped cloth. Through such tensions, physical or mental, the world in which we exist becomes itself. Great art, we might say, is thought that has been concentrated in just this way: honed and shaped by a silky attention brought to bear on the recalcitrant matter of earth and of life. We seek in art the elusive intensity by which it knows. ~ Jane Hirshfield

As an artist, you normally reach your peak of creativity, regardless of whether you are singing or acting, when you develop the greatest possible freedom within very strict boundaries.

For I can't just improvise away while the band's playing something different. I have to say my lines and maintain my position. By the same token a footballer must stick to the rules too.

But the most exciting thing is when people manage, within the rules, to develop a freedom that is unpredictable surprising and simply artistic and marvellous. ~ Jasmin Tabatabai

If we want to set out on the aruous search for the truth, we must all summon up the courage to leave the lines along which we have thought until now and as the first step begin to doubt everything that we previously accepted as correct and true. Can we still afford to close our eyes and stop up our ears because new ideas are supposed to be heretical and absurd? ~ Erich Von Daniken

When I die, they might as well bury me at the finish line at Churchill Downs so they can run over me one more time. ~ Rick Majerus

In a room the size of a ballroom the Pattern was laid. The floor was black and looked smooth as glass. And on the floor was the Pattern.
It shimmered like the cold fire that it was, quivered, made the whole
room seem somehow unsubstantial. It was an elaborate tracery of bright power, composed mainly of curves, though there were a few straight lines near its middle. It reminded me of a fantastically intricate, life-scale version of one of those maze things you do with a pencil (or ballpoint, as the case may be), to get you into or out of something. Like, I could almost see the
words "Start Here," somewhere way to the back. It was perhaps a hundred
yards across at its narrow middle, and maybe a hundred and fifty long.
It made bells ring within my head, and then came the throbbing. My mind recoiled from the touch of it. But if I were a prince of Amber, then somewhere within my blood, my nervous system, my genes, this pattern was recorded somehow, so that I would respond properly, so that I could walk the
bloody thing. ~ Roger Zelazny

Life isn't some vertical or horizontal line
you have your own interior world, and it's not neat. ~ Patti Smith

every day could bring the breaking of a new record, but the larger world would persist undisturbed. There was always news, even if little of it was newsworthy. Every pitch was different, every swing, and yet they all were variations on a familiar theme. The lines on the field, the fences around it, the neat geometry suggested that these, for a discrete but somehow infinite period, were the limits of the world. ~ Matthew Thomas

We had better want the consequences of what we believe or disbelieve, because the consequences will come! . . .

But how can a society set priorities if there are no basic standards? Are we to make our calculations using only the arithmetic of appetite? . . .

The basic strands which have bound us together socially have begun to fray, and some of them have snapped. Even more pressure is then placed upon the remaining strands. The fact that the giving way is gradual will not prevent it from becoming total. . . .

Given the tremendous asset that the family is, we must do all we can within constitutional constraints to protect it from predatory things like homosexuality and pornography. . . .

Our whole republic rests upon the notion of "obedience to the unenforceable," upon a tremendous emphasis on inner controls through self-discipline. . . .

Different beliefs do make for different behaviors; what we think does affect our actions; concepts do have consequences. . . .

Once society loses its capacity to declare that some things are wrong per se, then it finds itself forever building temporary defenses, revising rationales, drawing new lines - but forever falling back and losing its nerve. A society which permits anything will eventually lose everything!

Take away a consciousness of eternity and see how differently time is spent.

Take away an acknowledgement of divine design in the structure of li ~ Neal A. Maxwell

Just friends, just friends. Standing there in the bookstore, watching Seth walk away, I half wondered how anyone could still use that line. But I knew why, of course. It was used because people still believed it. Or at least they wanted to. ~ Richelle Mead

Then what's wrong?"
He couldn't be that obtuse. "You're kidding, right?"
"Ah, yeah, gotcha. Modesty issue, huh?" He drove in a deceptively relaxed way. "Look, yours isn't the first tail I've ever seen, okay?"
Fury stole Priss's breath. She reacted without thinking, slugging his hard in the shoulder.
"Ow!" He grabbed her wrist and tossed her hand back at her. "I was trying to comfort you, woman."
"Comfort!" He couldn't be serious. No man could be that dense. "You're a . . . a Neanderthal!"
"Am not."
Flattened by his careless attitude, Priss stared at him in disbelief. He was a gorgeous guy, but still a jerk. Shaggy blond hair, darker and more unkempt than Trace's, piercing green eyes, a strong jaw and . . . she peeked at his naked chest . . . Built.
Her chin lifted. "Where in the world did they even find you?" It had to be under a rock. Or deep in a cave.
He glared at her. "They who?"
"Trace and Dare."
Giving her a cautious frown, Jackson rubbed at one bloodshot, swollen eye. "That's top secret."
That's top secret, she mouthed, making fun of him, lashing out in her embarrassment.
He went rigid with affront. "Goddamn it, woman, you blinded me, nutted me, and damn near clubbed me to death. Now you have to ridicule me, too?"
He dared to complain to her? "You snuck into my bathroom. You saw me naked!"
"Yeah." His mouth twitched. He nodded just a little. "Yeah, I did." As he turned on his headlights and pull ~ Lori Foster

I was looking for a quiet place to die. ~ Paul Auster

We're almost a whole shadow now from far away. ~ Emily Skaja

I feel so many things growing - my individuality, my confidence; I feel lines of my character growing stronger. I'm really sprouting, springing up, with mixed feelings of tenderness and bitterness, faith and disillusion, hardness and softness. I have never felt so clearly that my Self is - obscurely and stubbornly self-made. ~ Anais Nin

My story! Didn't you know? I was the poor stupid groom who was jilted at the altar."

These Lines of Mehendi ~ Sumeetha Manikandan

I'm out here to bomb, period. That's what I started for. I didn't start writing to go to Paris, I didn't start writing to do canvases. I started writing to bomb ... destroy all lines. ~ Skeme

My tombstone? I'm thinking something along the lines of, 'Geez, he was just here a minute ago.' ~ George Carlin

The bottom line is that everyone thinks differently. ~ Rihanna

Nor do they trust their tongue alone, but speak a language of their own; can read a nod, a shrug, a look, far better than a printed book; convey a libel in a frown, and wink a reputation down. ~ Jonathan Swift