A Quote by Anna Faris

The eyes are the nipples of the face. — © Anna Faris
The eyes are the nipples of the face.

Quote Topics

I’ve got four nipples. I think I must have been a twin, but the one other went away and left its nipples behind.
The front door shut, leaving Alec sitting in the half-lit garden, alone. He closed his eyes for a moment, the image of a face hovering behind his lids. Not Jace's face, for a change. The eyes set in the face were green, slit-pupiled. Cat eyes.
I try to not overthink anything. I don't understand why nipples are nudity. Who cares? Men can show their nipples but if we have breasts we can't show them?
Nipples aren't killing children. They should be more concerned about the wars that are happening. There's so much violence in the world. There are so many legitimate things to be upset about besides nipples.
Opinions are like nipples, everybody has one. Some have firm points, others are barely discernible through layers, and some are displayed at every opportunity regardless of whether the audience has stated "I am interested in your nipples" or not.
My favorite emoji is definitely the sad face, like the 'See, I'm sorry' sad face, which I use all the time... Or the monkey face, where he's covering his eyes.
People who get implants, it's so depressing, you know... People - I don't know. The route of that, you know, maybe they want more love or attention, or what it is, but they always go for the most obvious place, you know? Here... Well if you really want more attention, why not get them in your eyes? And then move your eyes down to where your nipples used to be, put your breasts up on your head, everybody will pay attention!
The most important thing in the face is the eyes, and if you can make the eyes talk, you're halfway there.
You think you know someone by looking at his face but what can one face say about the thousand thoughts behind those eyes.
If, at some future point, my face collapses around my eyes, I'd probably do something about it. My eyes are where I live, and if people couldn't see them, no one would know me.
I am ready to meet God face to face tonight and look into those eyes of infinite holiness, for all my sins are covered by the atoning blood.
This is a man with an old face, always old... There was pathos, in his face, and in his eyes. The early weariness; and sometimes tears in his eyes, Which he let slip unconsciously on his cheek, Or brushed away with an unconcerned hand. There were tears for human suffering, or for a glance Into the vast futility of life, Which he had seen from the first, being old When he was born.
It's true about the eyes being the window to the soul. Your face can be etched with worry, and twisted by ageing, but the eyes tell the true story of who you are.
But now mine own eyes have beheld God; but not my natural, but my spiritual eyes, for my natural eyes could not have beheld; for I should have withered and died in his presence; but his glory was upon me; and I beheld his face, for I was transfigured before him.
He doesn't move his face when he talks. His eyes are like shark eyes. Dead.
The woman was silent, her eyes on the floor. Shimamura had come to a point where he knew he was only parading his masculine shamelessness, and yet it seemed likely enough that the woman was familiar with the failing and need not be shocked by it. He looked at her. Perhaps it was the rich lashes of the downcast eyes that made her face seem warm and sensuous. She shook her head very slightly, and again a faint blush spread over her face.
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