A Quote by Steve Guttenberg

Underneath all the skin, we're all the same. — © Steve Guttenberg
Underneath all the skin, we're all the same.
When it comes to the skin, there are two possible ways to tighten it up: surgery, or develop the muscle underneath! It is like blowing up a balloon underneath some wrinkly sheets. It eventually pulls them tight!
I have the same skin-care routine morning and night, although I'm not one of those people who always uses the same products. My skin changes with the weather.
The paparazzi were outside the theatre every single night, but we came up with a cunning ruse. I would wear the same outfit every time - a different T-shirt underneath, but I'd wear the same jacket and zip it up so they couldn't see what I was wearing underneath, and the same hat. So they could take pictures for six months, but it would look like the same day, so they became unpublishable. Which was hilarious, because there's nothing better than seeing paparazzi getting really frustrated.
I prefer 100 per cent cotton Ts. They are kinder to lumps and bumps than figure-hugging stretchy Lycra ones and feel nicer against the skin. Extra-long-sleeved T-shirts are a lifesaver for me. I wear them either underneath a shirt with the sleeve pulled out of the cuff, or underneath gypsy tops, tunic tops and waistcoats.
To know yourself as the Being underneath the thinker, the stillness underneath the mental noise, the love and joy underneath the pain, is freedom, salvation, enlightenment.
We can never see who someone really is underneath the skin.
Sometimes I wanted to peel away all of my skin and find a different me underneath.
Maybe when the President tells you that you should be afraid of Mexicans or Muslims or Jews or black people or gay people or trans people, you'll realize that those are just labels, that underneath it all we're all the same people, we all have the same aspirations, the same hopes, the same desires, that we all share the same values.
The key to transforming your look with a collar is ensuring that it looks as if it's part of the dress, so there shouldn't be any skin visible underneath.
Telling Sam and Daneca feels like peeling off my own skin to expose everything underneath. It hurts.
In China, we don't consider someone truly beautiful until we have known them for a long time, and we know what's underneath the skin.
None of us is responsible for the complexion of his skin. This fact of nature offers no clue to the character or quality of the person underneath.
I have a braided metal wire going down the middle of my chest underneath my skin. I saw it on an X-ray of it; it looks like a piece of jewelry.
His thumb went back and forth over the satin, as if he were rubbing her hip as he had when they'd been together, and he moved his leg over so that it was on top of the skirting. It wasn't the same, though. There was no body underneath, and the fabric smelled like lemons, not her skin. And he was, after all, alone in this room that was not theirs. "God, I miss you," he said in a voice that cracked. "Every night. Every day.
With fiction, you can take something that bothers you, or that you don't have in clear focus, and you can put it under as much stress as you want. Really get underneath the skin. With nonfiction, you're restricted to what happened.
You and I don't have the same genetics, we don't live in the same places, but we can have the same basic attitude - being comfortable in our skin.
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