Brown Skins Quotes

1. "And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur."
Author: Angela Carter

2. "For many people, Mrs. Brown has come from the middle of nowhere. But Mrs. Brown was first written for radio. I wrote it for a radio series in 1992. It was a five-minute piece for radio, and it's been absolutely astonishing."
Author: Brendan O'Carroll

3. "James Brown was one of the first artists who found four bars that he liked and played them the entire way through, and then he just added to it vocally."
Author: Brian Austin Green

4. "Those deep set eyes that look like they could tell stories for days, and that wavy brown hair that feels soft between my fingers. I try to memorize the angles of his jaw and the lines of his lips, because I know.I know this may be the last time I ever see him.Breathe fills my lungs, my throat relaxes, and I can't help but smile. Because I can see what he's thinking as clearly as if he'd spoken.He doesn't want to leave - he doesn't want to go home.He's going to choose me instead."
Author: Elizabeth Norris

5. "All the color had been leached from Winterfell until only grey and white remained. The Stark colors. Theon did not know whether he ought to find that ominous or reassuring. Even the sky was grey. The eyes of the bride were brown. Big and brown and full of fear."
Author: George R.R. Martin

6. "A black boy brought Wilson's gin and he sipped it very slowly because he had nothing else to do except to return to his hot and squalid room and read a novel - or a poem. Wilson liked poetry, but he absorbed it secretly, like a drug. The Golden Treasury accompanied him wherever he went, but it was taken at night in small doses - a finger of Longfellow, Macaulay, Mangan: 'Go on to tell how, with genius wasted, Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love...' His taste was romantic. For public exhibition he has his Wallace. He wanted passionately to be indistinguishable on the surface from other men: he wore his moustache like a club tie - it was his highest common factor, but his eyes betrayed him - brown dog's eyes, a setter's eyes, pointing mournfully towards Bond Street."
Author: Graham Greene

7. "I was terribly gawky, too goofy to become a high-kicking cheerleader, with stringy brown hair and bad posture. Definitely nobody noticeable!"
Author: Helen Slater

8. "I can't wear this," she said from inside the dressing room. "It's too small.""Let's see," Nick said. "Come on out.""Get me a bigger size. A lot bigger."Nick opened the door and looked in at Kate. "Whoa," he said on a gush of air. His pupils dilated to the point where his brown eyes were almost totally black, and Kate decided the dress must look better than she'd first thought."Well?" she asked."I think I'm in love," Nick said. "But then my brain isn't completely engaged right now. That's not where the blood is flowing.""Too much information" Kate said. "It would have been enough to tell me I look okay.""Honey you look a lot better than okay.""You don't think I look slutty?""Not at these prices," Nick said."
Author: Janet Evanovich

9. "I don't like to brag or frighten, but I've got a black belt. And a brown one, which I sometimes wear with black slacks."
Author: Jarod Kintz

10. "There was a time—until very recently in the scheme of things—when there were no wild animals, because every animal was wild; and humans were few. Animals, and animal presence over us and around us. Over every horizon, animals. Their skins clothing our skins, their fats in our lamps, their bladders to carry water, meat when we could get it."
Author: Kathleen Jamie

11. "As I move towards the shore like an injured sea turtle, two boys in a canoe paddle past. Their faces look smart and not too cocky. One boy with brown hair half-smiles at me."
Author: Lisa Dekis

12. "Architectural kitsch is most common in the commercial pop vernacular - typified by the Big Duck of 1931 in Flanders, New York, a Long Island roadside poultry stand resembling a duck, which Venturi and Scott Brown made a cult object through their writings."
Author: Martin Filler

13. "You once said to me that I talk like a man in a book. I not only talk, but think and feel like one. I have spent my life in books; literature has deeply dyed my brain its own colour. This literary colouring is a protective one--like the brown of the rabbit or the checks of the quail--making it impossible for me to tell where literature ends and I begin."
Author: Nathanael West

14. "Archer?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Hey, you might be able to take away my magical powers, but the power of sarcasm was still at my disposal. "Is your last name Newport or Vanderbilt? Maybe followed by some numbers? Ooh!" I said, widening my eyes, "or maybe even Esquire!"I'd hoped to hurt his feelings or, at the very least, make him angry, but he just kept smiling at me. "Actually, it's Archer Cross, and I'm the first one. Now what about you?" He squinted. "Let's see . . . brown hair, freckles, whole girl-next-door vibe going on . . . Allie? Lacie? Definitely something cutesy ending in ie."You know those times when your mouth moves but no sound actually comes out? Yeah, that's pretty much what happened. And then, of course, my mom took that opportunity to end her conversation with Justin's parents and call out, "Sophie! Wait up.""I knew it." Archer laughed. "See you, Sophie," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house."
Author: Rachel Hawkins

15. "Ten feet from the car, a man stepped directly into our path. We came to a screeching halt, and I jerked Lissa back by her arm. It was him, the guy I'd seen across the street watching me. He was older than us, maybe mid-twenties, and as tall as I'd figured, probably six-six or six-seven. And under different circumstances–say, when he wasn't holding up our desperate escape–I would have thought he was hot. Shoulder-length brown hair, tied back in a short ponytail. Dark brown eyes. A long brown coat–a duster, I thought it was called.But his hotness was irrelevant now. He was only an obstacle keeping Lissa and me away from the car and our freedom. The footsteps behind us slowed, and I knew our pursuers had caught up. Off to the sides, I detected more movement, more people closing in. God. They'd almost sent a dozen guardians to retrieve us. I couldn't believe it. The queen herself didn't travel with that many."
Author: Richelle Mead

16. "A leather jacket," Kami said as he shrugged into it. "Aren't you trying a little too hard to play into certain bad boy clichés?""Nah", said Jared. "You're thinking of black leather. Black leather's for bad boys. It's all in the color. You wouldn't think I was a bad boy if I was wearing a pink leather jacket.""That's true," Kami said. "What I would think of you, I do not know. So what does brown leather mean, then?""I'm going for manly," Jared said. "Maybe a little rugged.""It's bits of dead cow; don't ask it to perform miracles."
Author: Sarah Rees Brennan

17. "We never thought some guy would deliberately fill our hearts with brown sugar and then pour hot water all over it."
Author: Terry McMillan

18. "In your modesty you seem to consider that writers are of different blood and bone from yourselves; that they know more of Mrs Brown than you do. Never was there a more fatal mistake. It is this division between reader and writer, this humility on your part, these professional airs and graces on ours, that corrupt and emasculate the books which should be the healthy offspring of a close and equal alliance between us."
Author: Virginia Woolf

19. "There was nobody. Her words faded. So a rocket fades. Its sparks, having grazed their way into the night, surrender to it, dark descends, pours over the outlines of houses and towers; bleak hillsides soften and fall in. But though they are gone, the night is full of them; robbed of colour, blank of windows, they exist more ponderously, give out what the frank daylight fails to transmit—the trouble and suspense of things conglomerated there in the darkness; huddled together in the darkness; reft of the relief which dawn brings when, washing the walls white and grey, spotting each windowpane, lifting the mist from the fields, showing the red brown cows peacefully grazing, all is once more decked out to the eye; exists again. I am alone; I am alone!"
Author: Virginia Woolf

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