A Quote by Charles Bukowski

I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face, combed my hair. If I could only comb that face, I thought, but I can't. — © Charles Bukowski
I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face, combed my hair. If I could only comb that face, I thought, but I can't.
A girl asked me if she could comb my hair. Nobody can comb my hair, I can’t even comb my hair.
There is a theorem that colloquially translates, You cannot comb the hair on a bowling ball. ... Clearly, none of these mathematicians had Afros, because to comb an Afro is to pick it straight away from the scalp. If bowling balls had Afros, then yes, they could be combed without violation of mathematical theorems.
There was Kir, red hair combed back and That Expression on his sharp face. Even his freckles looked serious. I'd given up wondering how a freckle-faced teenager could look so much like a disapproving granny.
Pictures of me where my face was swelling, I had water retention - where you have filler, your face draws up a load of water. So my face began to swell like a balloon.
I don't want water!" Sarah cries, her face buried against my chest. I can't see what's going on in the rest of the lobby beacuse Sarah's hair is flying up in my face, blocking my view. I want justice!" she wails. Well, we'll get you some of that too." Magda has appeared from out of nowhere. "Maybe there's some in the freezer.
He was pushing fifty, with a face life had chewed on, and long wisps of graying hair parted low on one side and combed over his balding pate.
Give me a mirror.Or holy water. I'll drink it,even!" I gasped as someone threw water on the side of my face. "A little warning next time would be nice.
Drinking two liters of water a day, washing your face only with water when it's morning, don't touch your face often with your hands, and make sure to wear sunscreen!
I want a girl who looks good when she wakes up in the morning. We could take her face and dip it in dough and she'll make some nice-face cookies. Some girls wake up, man, you could put their face in dough and you'll get a gorilla cookie, for real!
I wash my face with a good cleanser and then dab some rose water on my face. I do this before I head to bed.
In the water I saw my father's face, and that face saw the face of its father, and so on, and so on, reflecting backward to the beginning of time, to the face of God, in whose image we were created.
Silver gray hair Neatly combed in place There were four generations Of love on her face She was so wise No surprise passed her eyes She's seen it all
When I was a teenager I would lock myself in the bathroom for hours, bouffanting my hair like Patty Duke and trying to recreate Barbra Streisand's flawless eyeliner, only to comb it all out and wash it all off before stepping out into the world a butchish bisexual teen.
Annabeth's face, her blond hair and gray eyes, the way she laughed, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss whenever he did something stupid. She must have kissed me a lot, Percy thought.
It wasn't cool that I didn't comb my hair and had books and wore glasses. It was never cool be a nerd and tomboy, and these days, it really is. And I'm like, 'You guys have no idea what I went through.' How many times my mother yelled at me to comb my hair.
I hear poets complaining: 'We face what our forebears did not face. We face TV. We face radio. We face this and that.'
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