A Quote by Sarah Vowell

My lips are chapped from the winds of change. — © Sarah Vowell
My lips are chapped from the winds of change.
I hate chapped lips. I absolutely hate chapped lips.
I can't do chapped lips. If your lips are jacked up, Aquaphor is always a good go-to.
I hate chapped lips.
My lips are always chapped and it's a problem.
It actually makes me squirm now, when I see my chapped lips on television.
I ultimately decided that I couldn't beat it more than three times a day, (I) was just too drained and chapped. That's what Radiohead is about. You're just drained and chapped, down there.
I am sure I would love to do it now, but back then, I was, like, 11 and it was 'ugh.' There's nothing sexual or sexy when you're that age. So I was kissing Brad Pitt. So what? He had chapped lips. He was lovely and kind and sweet to me, but it was just yuk.
I use By Terry lip gloss religiously - and I always have Elizabeth Arden 8 Hour Cream with me just in case. Between the two of them, I've got everything covered, from chapped lips to stray marks to doing a simple glossy eye.
Lips move; lips touch; lips signal. Lips are on the outside for show, and on the most secret inside of your mouth. Lips frame words that lie. Lips frame a hole that wants to be filled.
I always have Aquaphor which is just for like chapped lips, especially in the wintertime when you're traveling a lot. That's just the worst combination of things. And always a really good pair of jeans. Something vintage-y, a little loose and boyfriend-y, but not over the top. They're just comfortable but could still be dressed up or down.
Cold winds are disagreeable, hot winds enervating, moist winds unhealthy.
I shall sleep, and move with the moving ships, Change as the winds change, veer in the tide.
The first time I kissed you, you had just cut off your hair with a plastic knife. You were in restraints and your lips were completely chapped and dry from the tranquilizers. The next day you tried to kill me with a torn-off piece of bedsheet. I've seen you at your worst. You hardly need to dress up for me.
Between lips and lips there are cities of great ash and moist summit, drops of when and how, vague comings and goings: between lips and lips as along a shore of sand and glass the wind passes.
The winds of change are blowing at the RNC.
This is the most profound spiritual truth I know: that even when we're most sure that love can't conquer all, it seems to anyway. It goes down into the rat hole with us, in the guise of our friends, and there it swells and comforts. It gives us second winds, third winds, hundredth winds.
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