My handsome Knight of Night came over to me and kissed me softly on the cheek.
Ree, brunette and sixteen, with milk skin and abrupt green eyes, stood bare-armed in a fluttering yellowed dress, face to the wind, her cheeks reddening as if smacked and smacked again.
It reminded me of that tongue-in-cheek quick history of art I'd overheard...Used to be people couldn't draw very well, then they could, and now they can't again.
She rubbed her eyes, and after a long study of his face, she spoke "Is it really you?" Is it from your cheek, she thought, that I took the seed? The man nodded. His heart wobbled and he held tighter to the branches. It is.
Dodge," Alyss said, putting a hand to the parrallel scars on his cheek, that brand left so long ago by The Cat. She pressed her lips against each of them--four delicate kisses. When she pulled away, he was smiling.
Nevertheless, this one fact should be apparent: turning the other cheek is a bribe. It is a valid form of action for only so long as the Christian is impotent politically or militarily.
I lost my balance, making my body unstable and falling on top of my opponent. At that moment I hit my face against the player leaving a small bruise on my cheek and a strong pain in my teeth.
When I started skiing my pants were baggy and my cheeks were tight------Now my cheeks are baggy and my pants are tight.
My vigour, vitality, and cheek repel me. I am the kind of woman I would run from.
Love is not about the Dimples on the Cheeks but it is about the Heart that Beats
The Taj Mahal rises above the banks of the river like a solitary tear suspended on the cheek of time.
Katy Perry still gets me every time. She's very funny in person! We met at the Teen Choice Awards and she pulled my cheeks apart and told me how cute I was. My life was literally flashing before my eyes!
I've never felt that using something with tongue in cheek has been a bad thing.
My teeth have never been touched. Why did I tell you that? Knock on wood. I've got a few scars over the eyes, a couple on the chin, a few on the beak and one across the cheek. But my luck is running out.
I believe in treating others as I want to be treated--but I certainly don't believe in turning the other cheek and the truth is that I never knew any Christians who did either.
Sashimi is velvet dust, verging on silk, or a bit of both, and the extraordinary alchemy of its gossamer essence allows it to preserve a milky density unknown even by clouds.... my cheeks recalled the effects of its profound caress.
We have a lot of villains in the world, all right? And the Catholic doctrine says turn the other cheek, the Christian doctrine. But if you turn the other cheek, you could be annihilated. So when is it justifiable to defend yourself and take aggressive action in that regard, like dropping drones on people?
The greatest evil is not done in those sordid dens of evil that Dickens loved to paint ... but is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clear, carpeted, warmed, well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voices.
And do so, love, yet when they have devised What strainèd touches rhetoric can lend, Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized In true plain words by thy true-telling friend; And their gross painting might be better used Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.
It won't mean you're weak if you turn the other cheek.
A beam of God's countenance is enough to fill the heart of a believer to overflowing. It is enough to light up the pale cheek of a dying saint with seraphic brightness, and make the heart of the lone widow sing for joy.
Even the dullest bird or face becomes interesting when you give it a good look in the wild/flesh. The way the shadow drops across the cheek, the light hits an eyebrow, etc... there are many more angles, positions etc. than you can ever imagine. My heart always makes a little jump when I see things in birds or faces that surprise me.
I wanted to be a tragedienne. I only wanted sad parts. When mother read the press notices when I was on the road, saying I was a 'comedienne,' the tears rolled down my cheeks. I thought comedians had to have black on their faces, or red beards.
I treat my cheeks like breasts in a push-up bra. I just reach down in there, lift them up and push them together. And they'll stay put if the jeans are tight enough.
He was an Afghan Hound name Kabul. Since him I have had other Afghan Hounds.... Perhaps I am looking for his ghost. He is the only one that I sometimes think about. Often, if he comes in to my mind when I am working, it alters what I do. The nose on the face I am drawing gets longer and sharper. The hair of the woman I am sketching gets longer and fluffy, resting against her cheeks like his ears rested against his head.
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