White Skin Quotes

Samsa looked down in dismay at his naked body. How ill-formed it was! Worse than ill-formed. It possessed no means of self-defense. Smooth white skin (covered by only a perfunctory amount of hair) with fragile blue blood vessels visible through it; a soft, unprotected belly; ludicrous, impossibly shaped genitals; gangly arms and legs (just two of each!); a scrawny, breakable neck; an enormous, misshapen head with a tangle of stiff hair on its crown; two absurd ears, jutting out like a pair of seashells. Was this thing really him? Could a body so preposterous, so easy to destroy (no shell for protection, no weapons for attack), survive in the world? ~ Haruki Murakami

Nearly all black and brown skins are beautiful, but a beautiful white skin is rare. ~ Mark Twain

I think about Ruth walking down the street on East End and wonder how many other residents questioned what she was doing there, even if they never said it to her face. How incredibly easy it is to hide behind white skin, I think, looking at these probable supremacists. The benefit of the doubt is in your favor. You're not suspicious. ~ Jodi Picoult

Whiteness is not a culture. There is Irish culture and Italian culture and American culture - the latter, as Albert Murray pointed out, a mixture of the Yankee, the Indian, and the Negro (with a pinch of ethnic salt); there is youth culture and drug culture and queer culture; but there is no such thing as white culture. Whiteness has nothing to do with culture and everything to do with social position. It is nothing but a reflection of privilege, and exists for no reason other than to defend it. Without the privileges attached to it, the white race would not exist, and the white skin would have no more social significance than big feet. ~ Noel Ignatiev

He realizes finally that the boy he's been watching snap his board into the air, then neatly touch down- long, black, gleaming hair, pale white skin- is Felice. He didn't know she'd learned how to skateboard. He's never seen her like this before- so intently focused and content- her beauty beside the point, merely part of the catalog of effects- speed, balance, daring. He admires her athletic form and feels moved in some unexpected way. ~ Diana Abu-Jaber

I'M INTROSPECTIVE, because sometimes I want to take "our" side without looking at the facts in situations like these. Sometimes I feel like it's us against them. Sometimes I'm just as prejudiced as people I point fingers at. And that's not right. How can I look at white skin and make assumptions but not want assumptions made about me? That's not right. ~ Benjamin Watson

And this presence of the Spirit will enlighten not only yellow skin people or white skin people but even black skin people. I believe in the last days the Spirit of God will be poured out in the nations of Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism. Because Jesus Christ is the Lord. Jesus Christ is the Lord of the Universe. Amen. ~ Brother Yun

Rebecca, always Rebecca. Wherever I walked in Manderley, wherever I sat, even in my thoughts and in my dreams, I met Rebecca. I knew her figure now, the long slim legs, the small and narrow feet. Her shoulders, broader than mine, the capable clever hands. Hands that could steer a boat, could hold a horse. Hands that arranged flowers, made the models of ships, and wrote 'Max from Rebecca' on the fly-leaf of a book. I knew her face too, small and oval, the clear white skin, the cloud of dark hair. I knew the scent she wore, I could guess her laughter and her smile. If I heard it, even among a thousand others, I should recognize her voice. Rebecca, always Rebecca. I should never be rid of Rebecca. ~ Daphne Du Maurier

Far as to say that white-skinned people are actually black-skinned mutants who lost the ability to produce significant amounts of eumelanin. Redheads, with their characteristic milky white skin and freckles, may be a further mutation along the same lines. In order to survive in places with infrequent and weak sunlight, such as in parts of the U.K., they may have evolved in a way that almost completely knocked out their body's ability to produce eumelanin, the brown or black pigment. ~ Sharon Moalem

Nico looked very tall and thin wearing a opaque black sweatshirt hoodie and dark inked skinny jeans. His outer physical structure was handsome and gaunt, straight jet black hair razored and clipped in angles, a few purple highlights, and his white skin toned the color of alabaster. She had always liked the slender salamander type. He totally looked punk rock tonight, and that made him look absolutely awesome! A curtain of fog parted in front of him, giving him even more of the illusion as if he was part of a rock band at a rock band concert. Katty now saw Nico with exaggerated clarity. Nico Rocket looked so freakin' hot! He looked so good-looking at times, especially within the dark scenes of rolling fog and a pitchy darkness. She randomly wondered what he looked like before he was bit and turned into a Vampire. Had he been a Renaissance geek just like her? Before she could really examine him and fantasize of what he must have looked like before turning into a Vampire, the fog closed in all around him again, surrounding him with a ring of solitary imprisonment. He now lurked as a shadow among the shadows, disappearing into the illusion of gray's. She didn't like him for not showing up on time, but all had been forgiven as soon as she had seen him all dressed up in his Gothic best. So what if he didn't believe in punctuality? His hotness sure made up for the rest! Through the fog, she saw his bright red eyes pierce through the heaviness of the darkness. He then broke free from ~ Keira D. Skye

Her white skin and those dark brown eyes and the way she always smiled at the world - always, it seemed - as if her face had been designed that way. The smile never went away. ~ Tim O'Brien

I am left alone with the beautiful dark coal black eyes, pale white skin, dark wavy hair man and I CAN'T BREATHE! ~ R.L. Mankin

Day by day, month by month, doubt by doubt, law and order became fascism; education, constraint; work, alienation; revolution, mere sport; leisure, a privilege of class; marijuana, a harmless weed; family, a stifling hothouse; affluence, oppression; success, a social disease; sex, an innocent pastime; youth, a permanent tribunal; maturity, the new senility; discipline, an attack on personality; Christianity... and the West... and white skin... ~ Jean Raspail

She took a bad tumble. Those are some nasty bruises she's
carrying," the maid said with a sad shake of the head.
"Aye," Cullen agreed, his eyes traveling over lovely, milky white skin,
interrupted by several black bruises. "She looks like a cow."
Mildrede turned a horrified gaze on him at the comment, but he was
more concerned by the choked sound that came from his bride. He
really hadn't meant it as an insult, but it seemed the women were taking
it so.
"I just meant the coloring," Cullen muttered ~ Lynsay Sands

Some daughter of one of the gentry planters, perhaps? Those girls had the domestic virtues. But - he was comfortable enough with his good servants at Fairfield House. His yearnings had little relation to somebody to preside over his household. Somehow, to Cornelis, these young ladies of the planter gentry were not alluring, vital. The most attractive of them, Honoria Macartney, he could hardly imagine beside him perpetually. Honoria had the dead-white skin of the Caucasian creole lady whose face has been screened from the sun since infancy.

("Sweet Grass") ~ Henry S. Whitehead

Some lurid things have been said about me - that I am a racist, a hopeless alcoholic, a closet homosexual and so forth - that I leave to others to decide the truth of. I'd only point out, though, that if true these accusations must also have been true when I was still on the correct side, and that such shocking deformities didn't seem to count for so much then. Arguing with the Stalinist mentality for more than three decades now, and doing a bit of soapboxing and street-corner speaking on and off, has meant that it takes quite a lot to hurt my tender feelings, or bruise my milk-white skin. ~ Christopher Hitchens

A white skin is the greatest blessing that has been enjoyed on American soil. ~ Mark Emory Elliott

She began to sing, but I could not make out the words. It must have been a love song, to judge from the slightly pained expression on her face, and the way she tightly gripped the microphone. I noticed a flash of white skin on her neck. As she reached the climax of the song, her eyes half closed and her shoulders thrown back, a shudder passed through her body. She moved her arm across her chest to cradle her heart, as though consoling it, afraid it might burst. I wondered what would happen if I held her tight in my arms, in a lovers' embrace, melting into one another, bone on bone ... her heart would be crushed. The membrane would split, the veins tear free, the heart itself explode into bits of flesh, and then my desire would contain hers - it was all so painful and yet so utterly beautiful to imagine. ~ Yoko Ogawa

but the African has not yet endured the utter alienation of himself from his people and his past. His mother did not sing "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child," and he has not, all his life long, ached for acceptance in a culture which pronounced straight hair and white skin the only acceptable beauty. They face each other, the Negro and the African, over a gulf of three hundred years - an alienation too vast to be conquered in an evening's good-will ~ James Baldwin

He said nothing of the pounding in his heart when he looked at her. He felt short of breath after his long ride. His white skin felt hot to the touch. He did not use the word "love." For the last time in his life he wondered if he had wasted his love on a woman who only gave her love until it was time to take it back. He set the thought aside. He had given his heart this once in his life and counted himself blessed to have had the chance to do so. The question of whether she was worthy of his love had no meaning. His heart had answered that question long ago.

"You will protect me," she said.

"With my life," he replied."

Excerpt From: Toppy. "The Enchantress of Florence - Salman Rushdie. ~ Salman Rushdie

When I think back about my immediate reaction to that redheads girl, it seems to spring from an appreciation of natural beauty. I mean the heart pleasure you get from looking at speckled leaves or the palimpsested bark of plane trees in Provence. There was something richly appealing to her color combination, the ginger snaps floating in the milk-white skin, the golden highlights in the strawberry hair. it was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

How incredibly easy it is to hide behind white skin, I think, looking at these probable supremacists. The benefit of the doubt is in your favor. You're not suspicious. The few black faces in the room stand out in harsh counterpoint. ~ Jodi Picoult

Roddy the assistant manager lived in the theater. He'd emptied out one of the supply closets. He'd installed an inflatable mattress, a Shower Anywhere portable shower, and a wee television. He slept amid the powdered-butter fumes and empty drink-syrup tanks. He had grub-white skin and Goth circles under his eyes that, unlike those of Goths, came from really, truly existing half in the world of the dead. He smelled like carpeting, Scotch tape, and steak sauce. He was almost forty but had one of those half mustaches that thirteen-year-olds have. He was the closest thing to a zombie I've yet encountered in this world. ~ Patton Oswalt

I never knew that the lower classes had such white skins. ~ George Curzon, 1st Marquess Curzon Of Kedleston

The young can be very lovely, but the faces of the old can be truly beautiful. Every line and fold, every contour and wrinkle of Sister Monica Joan's fine white skin revealed her character, strength, courage, humanity and irrepressible humour. ~ Jennifer Worth

I've never understood white people who can't admit they're white. I mean, white isn't just a color. And maybe that's the problem for them. White is a passport. It's a ticket. The world is a white amusement park and your white skin buys you into it. A woman in economy argued with me about this once. She said, "I've heard this idea and it makes me uncomfortable."

"It probably should," I said.

Dad and I have been broke since he got cancer and sometimes he can't put the heat on over sixty-two or put food in the fridge, but we were always white and he always made sure I knew that. Which sounds stupid because how can a person not know they're white, right?

You don't have to be racist to not know you're white.

But sometimes you do. And Marla has no idea she's white or that the whole world was made for people like her. ~ A.S. King

Unless institutional power reinforces the hurt and prejudice suffered by a group, it is not oppression. By definition, a person of color cannot be racist, or a woman sexist, because they do not have the institutionalized power to act on their prejudices. Also, by definition, all white people are racist, not just because of the personal attitudes that we usually think of as racist, but because of the privilege white skin brings in our society. Whites cannot say they are not racist because they are born into a society that teaches racism and reinforces white privilege every day even before they can be aware of it. Whites can choose, however, to be active antiracists, which means making a commitment to a lifelong process of learning to recognize racism in themselves and in the institutions they are part of and taking steps to stop it. ~ Linda Stout

P38- little tarzan, which was the name they had given to the tiny lord greystoke and which meant white skin ~ Edgar Rice Burroughs

Major mutations or changes took place among the descendants of Japheth. This is obvious because of their white skin. In other words, they were black at one time but their skin changed to white. This phenomenon can be understood in view of the total world population. Over two-thirds of the population of the world consists of colored people. That is a ratio of 2-1. Two out of Noah's three sons remained black. We know this to be true because many of the people throughout Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the islands in the Pacific Ocean are yellow, brown or, black. ~ Rudolph R. Windsor

We are fighting so that insults may no longer rule our countries, martyred and scorned for centuries, so that our peoples may never more be exploited by imperialists not only by people with white skin, because we do not confuse exploitation or exploiters with the colour of men's skins; we do not want any exploitation in our countries, not even by black people. ~ Amilcar Cabral

Standing at the original Victorian counter was a man in a long black leather coat. His hair had been grown to counteract its unequivocal retreat from the top of his head, and was fashioned into a mean, frail ponytail that hung limply down his back. Blooms of acne highlighted his vampire-white skin. ~ Julia Stuart

I'm 5 foot 7, and I've got pasty white skin. I don't think I'm ugly, don't get me wrong, but I'm not your classic lead man, Brad Pitt guy. ~ James McAvoy

Whitepeople believed that whatever the manners, under every dark skin was a jungle. Swift unnavigable waters, swinging screaming baboons, sleeping snakes, red gums ready for their sweet white blood. In a way, he thought, they were right. The more coloredpeople spent their strength trying to convince them how gentle they were, how clever and loving, how human, the more they used themselves up to persuade whites of something Negroes believed could not be questioned, the deeper and more tangled the jungle grew inside. But it wasn't the jungle blacks brought with them to this place from the other (livable) place. It was the jungle whitefolks planted in them. And it grew. It spread. In, through and after life, it spread, until it invaded the whites who had made it. Touched them every one. Changed and altered them. Made them bloody, silly, worse than even they wanted to be, so scared were they of the jungle they had made. The screaming baboon lived under their own white skin; the red gums were their own. ~ Toni Morrison

our tragedy begins humid.
in a humid classroom.
with a humid text book. breaking into us.
stealing us from ourselves.
one poem. at a time.

it begins with shakespeare.

the hot wash.
the cool acid. of
dead white men and women. people.

each one a storm.

crashing. into our young houses.
making us islands. easy isolations.
until we are so beleaguered and
swollen
with a definition of poetry that is white skin and
not us.
that we tuck our scalding. our soreness.
behind ourselves and
learn
poetry.
as trauma. as violence. as erasure.
another place we do not exist.
another form of exile
where we should praise. honor. our own starvation.

the little bits of langston. phyllis wheatley.
and
angelou during black history month. are the crumbs. are the minor boats.
that give us slight rest.

to be waterdrugged into rejecting the nuances of
my own bursting
extraordinary
self.
and to have
this
be
called
education.

to take my name out of my name.
out of where my native poetry lives. in me.
and
replace it with keats. browning. dickson. wolf. joyce. wilde. wolfe. plath. bronte. hemingway. hughes. byron. frost. cummings. kipling. poe. austen. whitman. blake. longfellow. wordsworth. duffy. twain. emerson. yeats. tennyson. a ~ Nayyirah Waheed

Scarlet O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw. Her eyes were pale green without a touch of hazel, starred with bristly black lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. Above them, her thick black brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in her magnolia-white skin-that skin so prized by Southern women and so carefully guarded with bonnets, veils and mittens against hot Georgia suns. ~ Margaret Mitchell

My white skin disgusts me. My passport disgusts me. They are the marks of an insufferable privilege bought at the price of others' agony. If I could peel myself inside out I would be glad. If I could become part of the oppressed I would be free. ~ Robin Morgan

They all turned to the dark-haired woman standing quietly to the side and slightly behind Aunt Charlotte. She was, in a word, gorgeous. Everything about her was perfection, from her shiny hair to her milky-white skin. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips full and pink, and her eyelashes were so long that Honoria thought they must
touch her brows if she opened her eyes too wide.
"Well," Honoria murmured to Iris, "at least no one will be looking at us. ~ Julia Quinn

You don't have any hair at all at the tops of your thighs," I said, admiring the smooth white skin there. "Why is that, do you think?"
"The cow licked it off the last time she milked me," he said between his teeth. "For God's sake, Sassenach! ~ Diana Gabaldon

In the United States of North America, every independent movement of the workers was paralysed so long as slavery disfigured a part of the Republic. Labour cannot emancipate itself in the white skin where in the black it is branded. ~ Karl Marx

the migration patterns were the migration patterns solely of people of colour until 7000 years ago or later, when the first Caucasians appeared on earth, and the pigmentation of "white" skin only appeared 1000 years later. ~ L.B. Ó Ceallaigh

I don't think sun-tanned skin is any more attractive than white skin, or any healthier, for that matter ~ Marilyn Monroe

Empathy must be cultivated. The practice of empathy means taking a moment to imagine how you might behave if you were in our positions. Do not tell us how we should act if we were you; imagine how you would act if you were us. Imagine living in a society where your white skin marks you for disgust, hate, and fear. Imagine that for many moments. Only when you see black folks as we are, and image yourselves as we have to live our lives, only then will the suffering stop, the hurt cease, the pain go away. ~ Michael Eric Dyson

His wax-white skin was cool to the touch when she brushed his neck to find the knot of cloth. She'd never been this close to a vampire,never realized what it would be like to be so near to someone who didn't breathe, who could be as still as any statue. His chest neither rose not fell. Her hands shook. ~ Holly Black

Labor in the white skin can never free itself as long as labor in the black skin is branded. ~ Karl Marx

Smooth white skin invites something that will leave a trace, a kiss or a slap. ~ Mason Cooley

[Paris] is dirty. It has pigeons and black yards. The people have white skin. ~ Albert Camus

In the window were displayed the covers of several pornographic videos.
"The Story of O-Positive," Armod said aloud. "I don't understand. Is that like HIV positive?"
"Idiot," Mordr said, slapping Armod lightly upside the head.
"Ah, but I am in the mood for good literature," Ivak said with a grin. "How about these? A Tale of Two Vampyres. The Stakes of Wrath. Or that one." He pointed to the left. "Great Neckspectations."
"I still don't understand." Armod was frowning, although his white skin did color when he craned his head from side to side and realized what one of the pictures depicted.
"Now me, I always did like a good classic mystery movie," Sigurd added, also grinning. "A Tomb with a View."
Vikar worried that they were embarrassing Alex, but then she said, "My favorite is Vlad Really Did Impale Her."
His brothers glanced at him, then Alex, and burst out laughing.
"Mayhap I will not kill her after all," Mordr declared, giving Alex a wink that did not sit well with Vikar. Not one bit.
"Can we buy some?" Armod asked. ~ Sandra Hill

Why should anyone think a white skin superior in evaluating the qualities of human life? I did not really admire a white skin so much myself. Did I not prefer the brown skin that came with exposure to the sun? ~ Charles Lindbergh

Overall my race hasn't been a problem. I'm a Black artist with White skin. At the end of the day you have to sing what's in your own soul. ~ Teena Marie

She was wearing a simple silver sheath cut within an inch of indecency, curving round her slender shoulders and then falling away to expose the smooth white skin of her back and just a hint of the soft round curve of her breasts. She had on no jewellery, only a pale wash of lipstick, and again the black halo of hair was arranged so that it looked almost wind tossed. Yet her dark tresses shone, framing her face with a soft, unearthly light. Next to the other women at the table, with their diamonds, heavy strands of pearls, and meticulously groomed faces and hair, she seemed feral and bewitching. The impact of her beauty lay in her confidence and her utter lack of self-awareness. In contrast, others appeared to be trying too hard, careful and staid. ~ Kathleen Tessaro

At first, the pinpricks felt like hot fly bites down the soft white skin over her spine and along her shoulders. The first time Rina flinched, the mage had admonished her harshly. She hadn't moved again. ~ Victor Gischler

The pioneer labor historian John Commons was not wrong when he wrote around World War One that exploiting and deepening such tensions as outpacing scientific management among U.S. innovations where bossing was concerned. Amidst the general miseries of proletarianization, workers also learned that one source of meager benefits and protections could lie in claiming a white skin. ~ David Roediger

There is, however, a somber point in the social outlook of Americans. Their sense of equality and human dignity is mainly limited to people of white skin ... The more I feel like an American, the more the situation pains me. ~ Albert Einstein

They had fallen into that instant, easy friendship which feels as though it had begun before any of your memories and will last until you are so old that the humped veins on the back of your hands show dark blue-purple through your wax-white skin. ~ Peter Dickinson

Do you want to tell me what you're doing up here in the middle of the woods?" He gazed at her milky white skin, dark hair, and wide eyes. "If you're looking for the seven dwarfs, they live in the next forest over. ~ Deborah Blake

Yes, I'll marry you."
And then his hands were in her hair, scattering her hairpins, and his lips were on hers, stealing her breath, and she was touching him- this remarkable man whom she'd loved for so long and who was finally, finally hers.
Callie sighed into Ralston's mouth- noting that he tasted of scotch and something more exotic, more male- and a feeling of complete and utter elation coursed through her. This was Ralston, her future husband, and he was making her feel so warm and wonderful and alive. And then he was kissing down the column of her neck, whispering her name like a litany as he lifted her arms over his shoulders and set his lips to the expanse of white skin above the neck of her gown. Callie gasped as his strong hands spread wide across her torso, stealing up to cup her breasts in a gesture of complete and utter possession.
"This gown," he said, the words coming thick and liquid, "is sinful."
Callie couldn't help her smile as he leaned back to watch her breasts lift against the satin edge of the dress. "Do you think so?"
"Indeed. It is made to drive men crazy... to reveal all your luscious curves"- he ran a finger beneath the satin lazily, just far enough to graze the edge of a nipple- "without showing off anything. It's a torturous viewing experience," he added, wickedly, as he pulled the edge of the gown lower, exposing the straining tip of one breast to the cool air and his hot mouth. He suckled briefly, until Callie was writhing ~ Sarah MacLean

There are two types of liers...those that lie to others, and those that lie to themselves. ~ Stephen K. White

He cupped my face between his hands, and when our lips touched, his skin felt soft and warm. It was the smallest,
gentlest, most earth-shattering kiss in the long and glorious history of kisses, and it took my breath away. ~ Antony John

Let's not pretend that I couldn't get you to do whatever I asked of you," he hissed, shoving harder against me when I tried breaking free again. The impact and firmnedd of his body against mine brought a sound to the surface from me. "Let's not pretend that, even though you might hate me, you wouldn't let me do anything to you I wanted." His head dropped to my neck, and the next thing I felt was his mouth warming the skin at the base of it. His mouth never touched me, just his warm breath, and even with that small intimacy, my eyes closed, my head rolled back, and I moaned again. ~ Nicole Williams

love, be patient with me
as i shed this skin
as i lie old patterns at these feet
as i burn and sweat
as i'm fed by this stream
i can be fierce while this vulnerable
i can seem far away
as these wounds i lick
as i writher, moan, cry and hiss,
and awaken within this
river carrying me home
as i take in this last breath
generous was this passing death
praise be the person i was
as i gasp life into
the warrior
i am now. ~ Tanya Markul

I love food: biscuits and gravy, cheese grits, spaghetti and meatballs, chicken-fried steak with white gravy ... but my favorite dish is my wife's beanie weenie cornbread casserole. It's so good. It sounds stupid, but if you eat it, it's heaven. Of course, it's only something you can eat if you've got a lot of money. ~ Larry The Cable Guy

I know I'm done for when it comes to this woman. She's gotten under my skin, and I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready to remove her. ~ Tara Sivec

Whatever it is that you're passionate about, whatever it is that you absolutely love, and whatever it is that you would get up out of bed every day and do for free, you should try to figure out a way to make money at it and give it a shot. ~ Dana White

I have tried so hard to escape this, but my path was always leading here. I took every turn I could. I found faith and God. I found a new home and country, even new tongues and a new name. But I cannot escape becoming a Dracul. The cruelty, the willingness to destroy everything else in pursuit of a goal. I know what she would do. I know what I need to do. But I do not want to do it. ~ Kiersten White

Grinning like the arrogant bastard he was,Lucian dipped his head and,with his teeth,drew her shirt all the way up to her neck."Tell me you don't belong to me."
Bron gasped as the cool air hit her skin.
"I don't belong to you."
He kissed the curve of her breast,then down to her belly."Oh,lass,the scent of your wet pussy says different. ~ Laura Wright

What comfort there is in the skin of someone you love! ~ Erich Maria Remarque

Women think of all colors except the absence of color. I have said that black has it all. White too. Their beauty is absolute. It is the perfect harmony. ~ Coco Chanel

Black people in America have come from slavery to other forms of being oppressed and there are some things that come with that - some pain and anger that come with that and we as black people have to deal with it to heal that. White people have to understand it and have some compassion toward it. ~ Common

Billy's Adam's apple bobbed. "Don't-" The knife at his throat cut him short.
Black Tom cocked a thick brow. "Don't, wha? Hurt your littl' toffer?" Rotted teeth flashed. "She mean that much ta ye, then?"
Bill licked his lips quickly. His skin took on a grayish hue as sweat seeded over his high brow. "Don't piss 'er off," he managed. ~ Kristen Callihan

Gnawing at the forefront of Victoria's thoughts was the question that Rob had asked--was she dismissing Ted because he was white? She'd always thought herself to be open-minded, but in her romantic relationships, she'd only dated black men. ~ Trice Hickman

When she opened her eyes, she saw sunlight, green leaves and a man's face [...] She was looking up at the face of a man who knelt by her side, and she knew that in all the years behind her, this was what she would have given her life to see:
a face that bore no mark of pain or fear or guilt [...] a look of serene determination and of certainty, and the look of a ruthless innocence which would not seek forgiveness or grant it.
It was a face that had nothing to hide or to escape, a face with no fear of being seen, or of seeing, so that the first thing she grasped about him was the intense perceptiveness of his eyes - he looked as if his faculty of sight were his best-loved tool and its exercise were a limitless, joyous adventure, as if his eyes imparted a superlative value to himself and to the world - to himself for his ability to see, to the world for being a place so eagerly worth seeing.
It seemed to her for a moment that she was in the presence of a being who was pure consciousness - yet she had never been so aware of a man's body.
[...] his skin was suntanned, his body had the hardness, the gaunt, tensile strength, the clean precision of a foundry casting, he looked as if he were poured out of metal, but some dimmed, soft-lustered metal, like an aluminum-copper alloy [...]

He was looking down at her with the faint trace of a smile, it was not a look of discovery, but of familiar contemplation - as if he, too, were seeing the long-expected ~ Ayn Rand

Goldilocks in the flesh. He zoned out for a second, lost in the smooth texture of her skin, so he had zero time to react when the bikini top flying through the air hit him in the chest ...
She contemplated the ground for a second. "I'd like my top back, please."
"I don't know," he teased. "It could be construed as a deadly weapon. ~ Robin Bielman

To cope with hurt and control my fears, I grew a thick skin. Oh, the many names of power - pride, arrogance, control. I am not the frozen snow queen but a flesh and blood woman with perhaps too loving a heart, one easily hurt. ~ Michelle Cliff

The First Lady asked me how many people passed through the White House on tours. When I told her thousands did, she said they should sell something to the tourists and use the profits to help redecorate the White House. She decided to make a small book. It cost 42 cents and sold for a dollar. Over the years it has brought in $42 million. ~ Clark Clifford

We'll order up to your sitting room, then."
"Is that appropriate? I mean, for us to be there together, alone."
He puts a hand over his heart, expression shocked. "Why, Jessamin, you'd try to take advantage of me? ~ Kiersten White

Do you know how long it takes to charm people from Maine? They're uptight white people coated with a hard exterior made from other uptight white people. ~ Joel Stein

The essence of a sound style is that it cannot be reduced to rules-that it is a living and breathing thing with something of the devilish in it-that it fits its proprietor tightly yet ever so loosely, as his skin fits him. It is, in fact, quite as seriously an integral part of him as that skin is ... In brief, a style is always the outward and visible symbol of a man, and cannot be anything else. ~ H.L. Mencken

Beside the plain blue homespun and white linen which modestly clothed Aunt Rachel and Judith, Kit's flowered silk gave her the look of some vivid tropical bird lighted by mistake on a strange shore. ~ Elizabeth George Speare

A fat man with a Nazi party pin in his lapel played Cole Porter on a white piano. ~ Alan Furst

If we steal a man's purse we are thieves. If we steal twelve hundred islands we are patriots. If you steal a man's money you will be sent to the penitentiary. If you steal his liberty you will be sent to the White House. ~ William Jennings Bryan

He had forgotten the possibility of so many human beings in one space. The concentrated stench of so much life. He welcomed the sun on his skin, the absence of bitter cold. But it was winter in Calcutta. The people filling the platform, passengers and coolies, and vagrants for whom the station was merely a shelter, were bundled in woolen caps and shawls. ~ Jhumpa Lahiri

Scurvy became a problem. This disease comes from a deficiency of vitamin C, and it causes the victim's connective tissue to break down. The Irish called scurvy black leg, because it made the blood vessels under the skin burst, giving a victim's limbs a black appearance. The cure for scurvy is fresh food - meat, vegetables, or fruit - none of which was available to the poor in Ireland. There ~ Ryan Hackney

Ecstasy is a drug so powerful, it makes white people think they can dance. ~ Lenny Henry

Parker had a young white boy with him-one of the neurotic tribe of the lost- and the kid's eyes were filled with wet layers of tears. One big tear in each eye. They did not drop out. It was fascinating. I had seen women sit and look at me with those same eyes before they got mad and started screaming about what a son of a bitch I was. ~ Charles Bukowski

Au revoir, jewelled alligators and white hotels, hallucinatory forests, farewell. ~ J.G. Ballard

Its been nearly 1.5 years since the last PLUS 8 record, but it seemed fitting that this record in particular, made by a skinny white kid from Canada, became part of the labels collection and history. ~ Richie Hawtin

High-reactive introverts sweat more; low-reactive extroverts sweat less. Their skin is literally "thicker," more impervious to stimuli, cooler to the touch. In fact, according to some of the scientists I spoke to, this is where our notion of being socially "cool" comes from; the lower-reactive you are, the cooler your skin, the cooler you are. ~ Susan Cain

In the wee hours of the morning, the Edenic lovers wound themselves around each other, flesh against flesh, sleepy and sated in a large, white bed. Lightness and darkness, innocence and experience, kissed and caressed in the warmth and acceptance created by their love. The dark angel whispered to his muse in Italian until she fell asleep in his arms, happier than she had ever been. She was loved. ~ Sylvain Reynard

That's just like America. It's made up of lots of different people. We're all different colors, different ages, we do different jobs
but it takes all of us black people, white people, brown people, men and women, young and old, working in the factories, working in the fields, working in offices, working in stores
it takes a lot of different kinds of people to get the job done for America. ~ Jesse Jackson

I mean, in the last few months alone, I've been pinned in a big set of white-water rapids, been bitten by an angry snake in a jungle, had a close escapewith a big mountain rockfall, narrowly avoided being eaten by a huge croc in the Australian swamps, and had to cut away from my main parachute and come down on my reserve, some five thousand feet above the Arctic plateau.
When did all this craziness become my world?
It's as if - almost accidentally - this madness had become my life. And don't get me wrong - I love it all.
The game, though, now, is to hang on to that life.
Every day is the most wonderful of blessings, and a gift that I never, ever take for granted.
Oh, and as for the scars, broken bones, aching limbs and sore back?
I consider them just gentle reminders that life is precious - and that maybe, just maybe, I am more fragile than I dare to admit. ~ Bear Grylls

The prejudice of the race appears stronger in the States that have abolished slaves than in the States where slavery still exists. White carpenters, white bricklayers, and white painters will not work side by side with the blacks in the North but do it in almost every Southern State ... ~ Alexis De Tocqueville

If I was drunk, I wouldn't be here at all. And really, this is pretty good for four White Russians."
"White what?" I almost sat down but was afraid the chair might dematerialize beneath me.
"It's a drink," he said. "You'd think I wouldn't be into something named that - you know, considering my own personal experience with Russians. But they're surprisingly delicious. The drinks, not real Russians. ~ Richelle Mead

As the day heats up, Peter convinces me to put down my French book and jump in the pool with him. The pool is crowded with little kids, no one as old as us. Steve Bledell has a pool at his house, but I wanted to come here, for old times' sake.
"Don't you dare dunk me," I warn. Peter starts circling me like a shark, coming closer and closer. "I'm serious!"
He makes a dive for me and grabs me by the waist, but he doesn't dunk me; he kisses me. His skin is cool and smooth against mine; so are his lips.
I push him away and whisper, "Don't kiss me--there are kids around!"
"So?"
"So nobody wants to see teenagers kissing in the pool where kids are trying to play. It isn't right." I know I sound like a priss, but I don't care. When I was little, and there were teenagers horsing around in the pool, I always felt nervous to go in, because it was like the pool was theirs.
Peter bursts out laughing. "You're funny, Covey." Swimming sideways, he says, "It isn't right," and then starts laughing again. ~ Jenny Han

When he touches me, I feel like everywhere his skin meets mine is changed by the connection. It sends a thrill through my stomach. Not just fear. Something else, too. A wanting. ~ Veronica Roth