Brown Girl Quotes & Sayings

I growl with frustration at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is fifty shades messed up. Why is it so kinky and out of control? I need to stop sleeping with it wet. As I brush my long brown hair, the girl in the mirror with the brown eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait ... my eyes are blue! It dawns on me that I've been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is fine. — Fanny Merkin

He had given work to a nightwalker named Dorothy Evans and gradually became beguiled by her. She was a plump, pretty, cattleman's daughter, pale as a cameo, with the sort of overripe body that always seems four months pregnant. Her long brown hair was braided into figure eights and pinned up over her ears in the English country-girl style. Grim experience was in her eyes, many years of pouting shaped her lips, but everything else about her expression seemed to evince an appealing cupidity, as if she could accept anything as long as it was pleasing. — Ron Hansen

My own philosophy is if you're not having sex, you're finished. It separates the girls from the old people. — Helen Gurley Brown

I was grinding away to the climactic moan backtrack when I caught my reflection in the club's mirror, hips rotating, booty shaking. Years later, Grace described my smooth moves as a sad epileptic white girl's imitation of a twerk. Harsh. Could anyone look sexy dancing to lyrics that include "Sucky, sucky. Me sucky, sucky"? I don't think so. — Leah Marie Brown

I like girls that are down to earth, intelligent, and don't try to be anything that they're not. One thing that I fall for all the time is girls with blue eyes and brown hair. There's something about that combination that I find really sexy. It's all in the eyes ... and the personality, but that's obvious. — Devon Bostick

He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. "You are so beautiful that sometimes it hurts just to look at you. Your eyes are a thousand shades of brown and gold with hints of blue and green." He touched her cheekbones with thumbs. "Your freckles are like the girl-next-door fantasy brought to life. Your mouth is sexy and soft and when you smile, the world seems like a better place. Swear you'll never change anything. Swear it. — Susan Mallery

Debussy
A pretty girl with one blue eye and one brown one. — H.L. Mencken

I like the color of the Caribbean." I paused and absorbed the warmth of her smile before adding, "Dogs, not cats. Boxers, not briefs. Redheads over brunettes ... " I glanced sideways at her, and she met my gaze. "I have a penchant for girls in velvet jackets ... and I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
She choked in surprise, sputtered, and shook her head.
"You see? This is what I mean."
"What?"
"Nobody talks like that. I barely know you."
I was genuinely confused. Didn't girls like to hear this stuff? Besides, it was, conveniently enough, the truth. "Well, I talk like this. And you should be used to people telling you you're beautiful."
"Well, I'm not," she said, and she sounded like she was getting irritated with me again. The feeling was mutual.
I leaned against the wall and pulled up one knee. "Okay. I take it back. You are completely average. Dull, dull, dull. Unremarkable in every way. — Anne Greenwood Brown

So I'm guessing you're Seven and Ten; What can you do?" I say as I find our rifles in the sand and hand each of them a gun.
"You can call me Marina," the girl with the brown hair says. "And I can breathe under water and see in the dark and heal the sick and wounded. And I have telekinesis."
Call me Ella, I hear ten say in my head. Aside from my telepathy, I can change ages.
"Awesome. I'm four, that nut job with the long black hair is nine and the beast is my chimaera, Bernie Kosar. — Pittacus Lore

When the light faded, Vince strolled down to the falls. Heavy mist made the spotlights appear especially cool. He got himself a sausage on a bun, with lots of mustard and fried onions, and settled on a patch of damp grass to watch the standard Friday night fireworks. He never tires of the fascinating colours and patterns. They're impossible to reproduce on canvas. He couldn't resist making his usual wishes on them.

He wished he had someone special with him.

Maybe there's some girl on the planet who would like to hear that gold fireworks contain actual gold, he thought while watching a nearby couple laugh. Wouldn't it be great to be able to share that? — Jess Molly Brown

But I cannot think only of the Red girl. When I see the moon, I think of the sun: Mustang burns in my thoughts. If Eo smelled of rust and soil, then the Golden girl is fire and autumn leaves. — Pierce Brown

One of the most painfully inauthentic ways we show up in our lives sometimes is saying "yes" when we mean "no," and saying "no" when we mean "hell yes." I'm the oldest of four, a people-pleaser - that's the good girl straitjacket that I wear sometimes. I spent a lot of my life saying yes all the time and then being pissed off and resentful. — Brene Brown

Afghan Girl

Ice blue eyes that look to the morning sky as I knit the pieces and remnants of my life. I have No books, no paper, no pencils, and no black boards. I look at the holes in my life as I see the hills of the Appalachians that echo. I think to myself, who will I marry? Is my life-like Pari?

These strings please come together.

Snowflakes give me hope, and my dreams dance all around me. I'll put another log on the fire. I watch the brown paper bag over the broken glass pane letting the cold wind in; I'll take some of these remnants and stuff it.

These strings are come together.

Mama told me that life would be hard. I bartered for flour the other day, and the chickens ain't laying no eggs. I struggle with life and these strings. My hands are worn and tired. Now, I have granny square hands.
I am unclean, unblemished, and finished,

Afghan girl. — Edna Stewart

Samantha turned on a coy smile and the wily charm of a coquettish girl. A little shiver went through me. The one thing she wasn't was coy or coquettish. More like a cold hearted killer who only smiled at the thought of violence. — Kaden Brown

Could I be your girl, too?" I asked quickly.
The large, broad-shouldered man looked away before he answered. "Well, now," he said, as though he had given it deep thought, "I sure do think I would like that."
"But," I said, concerned that he hadn't noticed, "I don't look like your other girls."
"You mean because you white?"
I nodded.
"Abinia," he said, pointing toward the chickens, "you look at those birds. Some of them be brown, some of them be white and black. Do you think when they little chicks, those mamas and papas care about that? — Kathleen Grissom

Mary Jane. Listen. Please," Eloise said, sobbing. "You remember our freshman year, and I had that brown-and-yellow dress I bought in Boise, and Miriam Ball told me nobody wore those kind of dresses in New York, and I cried all night?" Eloise shook Mary Jane's arm. "I was a nice girl," she pleaded, "wasn't I? — J.D. Salinger

I've had a lifelong love affair with makeup. When I was a little girl, I used to take my mother's makeup and paint all of my dolls' faces, and I even painted the dog's face! — Bobbi Brown

I remember I went through a period where I didn't embrace my 'chocolatiness.' I don't know if that's a word, but I didn't embrace my chocolate lifestyle. Just being a chocolate, lovely brown skin girl and being proud of that. — Kelly Rowland

You'll likely always have some reason or other to hang onto that girl. You just want her cause she was married to your son, and I understand that, he was a friend to me like a brother, near the only family I ever knew, and I miss him almost as much as you. But I need me a woman. — Samuel Snoek-Brown

God, she was one big nerve ending, that girl, and those big brown eyes got just a little wider when she was close. And those bruises. And how she begged for them.
I knew she was special the night I met her, I just didn't know how special. — C.D. Reiss

His hands were freezing, but he couldn't milk with gloves.
"Sorry about the cold hands, old girl," he apologized to the cow before he started. — Carolyn Brown

You'd think they would train these SOE girls better, it's just sloppy.' Hans sipped his cognac. 'She looked the wrong way crossing the road, silly girl. — Kate Lord Brown

Kissing Kate is like nothing I've ever experienced. And as much as I want to think I'm the good guy, as much as I've proclaimed that sleeping with an attached girl isn't my style, I'm not walking away. I can't. I have her now. She's mine. And I'm not going anywhere. — Melissa Brown

Eric followed Vlad Tepes's stubby finger, identifying me as the future Happy Meal. Then he stared at Dracula, looking up from his kneeling position. I couldn't read his face at all, and I felt a stirring of fear. What would Charlie Brown have done if the Great Pumpkin wanted to eat the little red-haired girl? — Charlaine Harris

Where did you hear that song?" I ask her without sitting up.
"From the HC," she says, blushing. "A little girl sang it. It's soothing."
"It's sad."
"Most things are. — Pierce Brown

I will always be that guy's girl. I've made him so big in my mind that I can't even move around in there. It's not that I can even be with him. I just won't ever be without him. I'll never be whole without him. — Tara Brown

Blessings of battle-luck and might, confounded enemies and inevitable victory." That sounded familiar. "To crush your enemies. See them driven before you. Hear the lamentations of their women," I quoted. She seemed like a Conan the Barbarian kind of girl. — E. William Brown

maybe she should take out a book and read, for it don't make no sense to just lean against the shop front, doing nothing, and she start to search in her bag, when she hear Pansy shout, "Lord Jesus! Oh God, help me!" Pansy bawling for help louder and louder, so Grace get frighten. She drop her schoolbag, run quick into the shop, and push on the door to the back room with all her might. After a couple tries, it fly open. Staring at her are one pair of feet with brown socks, one pair of feet with no socks, four legs with no covering and Mortimer's bare bottom rising and falling with a motion that remind her of when he was using the saw. Grace look, turn right around, march out, pick up her school bag, and start walking home. First she is furious with Pansy, but then she start to laugh. Mortimer have a nice body, but he is short. Pansy is a good-sized girl. Grace remember Gramps say, "Tiny insects pollinate sizeable flowers, — Pamela Mordecai

Carrie was a girl from my music appreciation class. She had beautiful, dark brown eyes, though it was hard to notice them; she hid behind a scrim of mousy hair and soft chub, which gave her the sodden air of someone who'd found a tenuous contentment on Paxil — Siel Ju

Oh, Tatiana wouldn't even consider staying here for a moment," Gideon said. "She has fled to the Blackthorns', her in-laws, and good riddance. She is not a stupid girl-in fact, she considers her intelligence to be quite superior-but she is a self-important and vain one, and there is no love lost between her and my brother. And he had been awake for days, mind you. Waiting in that great blasted house, locked out of the library, pounding on the door when no answer came from my father ... "
"You feel protective of him," Sophie observed.
"Of course I do; he is my little brother." He moved forward and brushed a hand over Gabriel's tousled brown hair; the other boy moved and made a restless sound but did not wake. — Cassandra Clare

Hey, ya'll should come home with us. Verdie has a pot roast in the oven that will melt in your mouth," Finn said.
He was as tall as Sawyer and had the bluest eyes Jill had ever seen on a man. Callie nodded at his side as she corralled four kids, and Verdie poked her head out around Finn's shoulder to say, "Yes, we'd love to have you. Got plenty of food and plenty of these wild urchins to entertain you. If that don't keep you laughing, then there's a parrot that never shuts up and a bunch of dogs."
"And a cat," a little girl said shyly. — Carolyn Brown

Dammit? Why would you give a dog such a name? Or is that a third date story too?"
"No, it's only a dog story." Rhett smiled and the temperature in the store shot up several degrees. "I named him Lambert after Miranda Lambert, but I guess he didn't like bein' named after a girl, so he sat there like a knot on a log every time I called him. So I'd say, 'Dammit, come here.' And here he'd come runnin' hell-bent for leather. So I gave up and called him Dammit. — Carolyn Brown

He cupped her face and held her still, as he looked into her brown eyes; she was all flash and no bang. She talked big, but when it came down to it, she was a simple girl. — Elaine White

The Lost Girls

Nomad girls are Lost Ones too,
With leaves at foot and crown;
They too seek shelter in the tress,
Drink Red and Gold and Brown.

Their circlets made of steam and rain,
Their lashes powdered ash,
They're firelight, they're fox's kill,
They're blood and sweat and scratch.

Lost Boys fly forever, and crow the rising sun.
They play all day in Neverland, their laughter mermaid-spun.
But Lost Girls live underground:
They steal from hole to hole.
They drink the shadows, wear the night,
And paint their cheeks with coal.

And when the wind turns colder,
They split a doe and climb inside.
Still-warm sinew wraps their hands,
Dead muscle soaks the light.

You'll never tell what's girl, what's beast,
Once bloody fur's been trussed-
So think your happy thoughts, Lost Boy,
Wish on your Fairy Dust. — Lauren Bird Horowitz

The girl with the long brown hair turned around. "Are you her boy friend?" she asked. Summer glanced from Crystal to Nate and back. Then question made her feel a little awkward. After all, she had saved him a seat. No, I'm her fiance," Nate said. We've been promised to each other since birth." Summer added. Our wedding isn't until March. — Brandon Mull

She was a very small girl with a face as lovely and fresh as her son's face - a very small girl. Most of the time she knew she was smarter and prettier than anyone else. But now and then a lonely fear would fall upon her so that she seemed surrounded by a tree-tall forest of enemies. Then every thought and word and look was aimed to hurt her, and she had no place to run and no place to hide. And she would cry in panic because there was no escape and no sanctuary.

Then one day she was reading a book - brown, with a silver title, and the cloth was broken and the boards thick. It was Alice in Wonderland. But it was the bottle which said, "Drink me" that had changed her life. — John Steinbeck

There are infinite numbers of do overs for your teen girls. — Brene Brown

You see, when we met I thought, "There's a brown mouse of a girl with a sharp tongue," and then before I knew what was happening I was in love with you. Oh, I did my best to ignore it, and I thought that if I ignored you too I'd be safely back in my bachelor state in no time - only it didn't work out like that. You were under my skin, in my bones, my very heartbeat. And I'd gone out of my way to make you dislike me so that it would be easier for me to get over you. Only I haven't done that, my darling. — Betty Neels

I was at this guy's house. I met this girl who was hanging out there. She was real pretty, she had brown eyes and dark hair. She was soft-spoken and real nice. I know that everyone has their own life and they can do what they want and you shouldn't think anything of it or anything. But man, I couldn't help but flinch a little when I saw all those needle marks in her arm, they looked so sore. Hateful little holes. I wanted to say something, but I didn't. — Henry Rollins

I hope the Spice Girls will come back, although it may be beyond even Bob Geldof to get that to happen. — Gordon Brown

The traveller in the read-brown clothes that he wears that dust may not show upon him, the girl searching in her bed for the petals fallen from the wreath of her royal lover, the servant or the bride awaiting the master's home-coming in the empty house, are images of the heart turning to God. — Rabindranath Tagore

Said. Karen inhaled deeply and blew until there was no more air in her lungs and smoke filled the room but there wasn't a single candle still burning. "Never underestimate the power of a strong woman," she said breathlessly. "Amen," Hannah murmured. Kim motioned toward the bar. "Momma's choice tonight. Mexican buffet, which comes before cake." "Not for me. I'm having a slice of that cake right now. It's my birthday and I want dessert first. Momma always let me do that on my birthday when I was a little girl," Karen said. "Yes, I did, and if you want your cake first tonight, then have at it," Hannah agreed. "Well, I'm getting into those tacos," Edith said. "Y'all have to try my watermelon salsa. I hadn't made it in years, but it turned out pretty good considering that the watermelon wasn't as good as I like it to be." "What's in it?" Sue asked. — Carolyn Brown

I don't like coming over here at night, the girl said. The bayou is scary in the dark, all manner of things running wild out there. — Samuel Snoek-Brown

I was beautiful; after all, my skin was as rich and dark as wet, brown mud, a complexion that any and every pale white girl would pray for - that is, if she believed in God. My butt sat high in the air and my hips obviously gave birth to Creation. Titties like mangoes, firm, sweet, and ready. My thighs and legs were big and powerful, kicking Vanna White and Cindy Crawford to the curb. — Sister Souljah

Moms are the ones
Who make sure of a lot of things
Like that their kids
Wear nice clothes,
Comb their hair,
Brush their teeth.
And moms teach their kids
How to fold laundry
So their cloths aren't wrinkled,
How to make scrambled eggs
Without turning them brown,
How to make a girl feel like a girl
Without a mom to make her
feel that way? — Nancy J Cavanaugh

When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running through the holes in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender, of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries. — Kenneth Grahame

The right guy gets the girl, remember? I'm going to show you who that guy is. — Melissa Brown

Wouldn't it be cool to be single in a bygone area? I take a girl to a drive-in movie, we go have a cheeseburger and a malt at the diner, and then we make out under the stars in my old-timey convertible. Granted, this might have been tough in the fifties given my brown skin tone and racial tensions at the time, but in my fantasy, racial harmony is also part of the deal. — Aziz Ansari

All my friends were in the park smoking weed and getting pregnant. I didn't want to be the young black girl having a baby, a baby's father, being on welfare. That wasn't going to be my story. — Foxy Brown

Rats! There goes the bell ... oh, how I hate lunch hours! I always have to eat alone because nobody likes me ... Peanut butter again ... I wish that little red haired girl would come over, and sit with me. Wouldn't it be great if she'd walk over here, and say, "May I eat lunch with you, Charlie Brown?" I'd give anything to talk with her ... she'd never like me, though ... I'm so blah and so stupid ... she'd never like me ... I wonder what would happen if I went over and tried to talk to her! Everyone would probably laugh ... she'd probably be insulted someone as blah as I am tried to talk to her. I hate lunch hour ... all it does is make me lonely ... during class it doesn't matter ... I can't even eat ... Nothing tastes good ... Rats! Nobody is ever going to like me ... Lunch hour is the loneliest hour of the day! — Charles M. Schulz

One, a shy girl with brown braids and thick glasses, had confessed that her world was at a nexus between two minor compass directions, being High Rhyme and High Linearity. Nancy hadn't known what to say to that, and so she hadn't said anything at all. Increasingly, that felt like the safest option she had. — Seanan McGuire

And get some self-esteem. What the fuck is that? It's so annoying to see a pretty girl see herself as not worthy. You know what it makes us guys think you aren't worthy? We see you how you see you. You're pretty and funny and smart. Stop being such a douche-canoe. — Tara Brown

Jump. Jump, little grasshopper," he grumbles. "It'll be the last time you use your legs."
"What's that?" I ask.
"I said it'll be the last time you use your legs."
"Odd," I murmur.
He blinks at me and frowns. "What's ... odd?"
"You sound like a girl. Did something happen to your balls?"
"You little ... — Pierce Brown

When I was a kid, my dream was to be a farmer and marry Charlie Brown. I wanted to rescue him and make him happy. Besides, he was always lusting after the little redhead girl. — Alicia Witt

Howidoono?" Dee tries to ask, but there's a mound of Brown Butter Almond Brittle ice cream on her tongue. "How did you know I needed this?" He gives her an "oh please" look. "I have a sister and a girl best friend. This is not amateur hour. — Emery Lord

She would wake up in the middle of the night and say things like "What if Bad Bad Leroy Brown was a girl?" or "Why don't they have commercials for salt like they do for milk? — Rob Sheffield

We all labor against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases — Thomas Browne

I was raised in a mostly white neighborhood. I was this little white girl jamming out to Ella Fitzgerald and Bobby Brown. — Jojo

Edmund would miss him, if no one else. And there hadn't been a single brown-haired little girl to play peekaboo with during church or an emerald-eyed beauty to watch from a distance. And he lived for the brief glimpses he had of Clara. Sweet, beautiful, loving Clara. — Sarah M. Eden

I fall in love with any girl who smells of library paste. — Charles M. Schulz

She ran the harder and zagged more erratically, and in the wreckage left from the hurricane the girl misjudged her path and ran straight into the old well.
She didn't even scream. — Samuel Snoek-Brown

You can't be a doctor. Only boys can be doctors. Leroy's got to be the doctor."
"You're full of shit, Spiegelglass, Leroy's dumber than I am. I got to be doctor because I'm the smart one and being a girl don't matter."
"You'll see. You think you can do what boys do but you're going to be a nurse, no two ways about it. It doesn't matter about brains, brains don't count. What counts is whether you're a boy or a girl."
I hauled off and belted her one. — Rita Mae Brown

I love Ruth Brown, not just her singing, but Ruth Brown has more girl power than anyone, because she fought hard against people who ripped her off and then helped other artists through the Rhythm and Blues Foundation. — Ronnie Spector

I love sneakers on a girl. I don't know why, but I guess it's because I'm still a young. I really like just like a girl who has style - a girl who does her own thing, is unique in what she's wearing and works what she's got. — Chris Brown

But the moment I saw you, I knew there was something more. There was something behind those big, beautiful brown eyes that I had to get to know, and, damn girl you've kept me in a trance ever since. — Magan Vernon

I don't care about sex anymore. It's a headache. It's hard to trust people. You talk to a girl, and then she screenshots a text message. — Danny Brown

Mhysa!" a brown-skinned man shouted out at her. He had a child on his shoulder, a little girl, and she screamed the same word in her thin voice. "Mhysa! Mhysa!"

Dany looked at Missandei. "What are they shouting?"

"It is Ghiscari, the old pure tongue. It means 'Mother.'"

Dany felt a lightness in her chest. I will never bear a living child, she remembered. Her hand trembled as she raised it. Perhaps she smiled. She must have, because the man grinned and shouted again, and others took up the cry. "Mhysa!" they called. "Mhysa! MHYSA!" They were all smiling at her, reaching for her, kneeling before her. "Maela," some called her, while others cried "Aelalla" or "Qathei" or "Tato," but whatever the tongue it all meant the same thing. Mother. They are calling me Mother. — George R R Martin

She had not yet sensed the pea beneath the pile of mattresses, the pea that belonged to the little brown-skinned girl who used to make up stories to keep her soul pinned down inside her or, at times, to let it fly - stories whose most exciting element was the word "suddenly" at the beginning of every sentence and before each description: Suddenly, suddenly, her heart would leap when she whispered to herself, suddenly. — David Grossman

When you get down to it, at it's root, Comedy is truth, absurdity, and pain. One of my little mottos is: 'Do you remember the Peanuts cartoon where Charlie Brown kicked the football and kissed the Little Red Haired Girl? Neither do I.' — Lev Yilmaz

I'm not your blue-eyed Czech,
I'm just a brown-eyed girl,
A little mix of rock your world,
And now you'll never be the same.
You grabbed me by the hand,
I grabbed you by the neck.
I changed the game,
and your convictions.
So is it criminal to steal a heart or two?
I keep them on the shelf,
Like only hunters do.
I like it hard
I like you high
I love your mouth
When it's on mine.
I wanna hear you make that sound,
Cause it's the greatest thing around.
Take it off now,
Take from here.
Watch your head spin
When I come near,
And you will lose every time,
Cause I won't stop until your mine.
And they say who the hell is she?
They either love me or they hate me.
But still they never look away,
This vixen's gonna give you everything. — Crystal Woods

Finally, he smiled, and although his smile was bumpy because some of his teeth were jagged and broken, it was a warming, infectious smile that was reflected in his eyes. It made her smile widely in return. She felt as if the room had been lit up. He held out his arms, and she went across the room to him, almost running. She buried her face in his shirt, her nose wrinkling up as the scent of his cologne mixed with the nutty, sourish smell of camphor that filled the room. He put his arms around her, but gently, so that there was space between his forearms and her back, holding her as if she was to fragile to hug properly. Awkwardly, he patted her light, bushy aureole of dark brown hair, repeating: Good girl. Fine daughter. — Helen Oyeyemi

My friends are trying to get me to go out on blind dates. Big 'NO' to that because all my friends are a bunch of lying geeks. They're always like, 'Brian, you're really gonna dig this girl. She's got Traci Lords' eyes, Michelle Pfeiffer's nose, Kim Basinger's lips.' Yeah, they always forget to tell me she's also got Charlie Brown's head. — Brian Posehn

She smiled. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled, and dark spidery veins were beginning to show beneath its surface. Her hair was still the color of spun silver and her eyes were still green as a cat's. She was still beautiful. Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec's, heard violin music like the sound of silver water. He saw a girl with long brown hair and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.
And then there was Camille. — Cassandra Clare

Maddie was about to follow when a girl beside her said, "Excuse me." Her hair was red, and her cheeks were dusted with light brown freckles. She had a mouth that seemed to want to smile, but for some reason her lips were tight. "I have been standing here for two entire minutes waiting for a seat." "Oh!" said Maddie. "I'm so sorry. I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding." She leaned closer and whispered helpfully, "The seats here don't come to you. You have to walk over to them." The girl's mouth gaped as if she was insulted. Maddie nodded sympathetically. "I agree," Maddie said. "I've often thought that chairs that come to you are a hexcellent idea. — Shannon Hale

My litter sister looks up at me.
Mom was right. Her eyes are the same as they've always been. Brown eyes fringed with long lashes and steeped with the memory of sweetness and light, laughter and joy - trapped in this mangled corpse-like face.
"It's all right, baby girl," I whisper into her hair as I hug her. "I'm here. I came for you."
Her face crumples and her eyes shine. "You came for me."
I stroke her hair. It's as silky as ever. — Susan Ee

Blowin' Free'

I thought I had a girl
And all because I seen her
Her hair was golden brown
Blowin' free like a cornfield

She was far away
I found it hard to reach her
She told me you can try
But it's impossible to find her

In my dreams everything was all right
In your schemes you can only try

I thought I had a girl
And all because I seen her
Her hair was golden brown, yeah yeah
Blowin' free like a cornfield — Wishbone Ash

As I brush my long, brown hair, the girl in the mirror with blue eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait ... I don't have blue eyes! Then I realize I haven't been looking into the mirror. I've been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is actually fine. — Andrew Shaffer

On a cold, fretful afternoon in early October, 1872, a hansom cab drew up outside the offices of Lockhart and Selby, Shipping Agents, in the financial heart of London, and a young girl got out and paid the driver.
She was a person of sixteen or so
alone, and uncommonly pretty. She was slender and pale, and dressed in mourning, with a black bonnet under which she tucked back a straying twist of blond hair that the wind had teased loose. She had unusually dark brown eyes for one so fair. Her name was Sally Lockhart; and within fifteen minutes, she was going to kill a man. — Philip Pullman

I like low-maintenance girls, but at the same time, classy. She needs to take care of herself. But also be a girl who isn't afraid to get sweaty and play basketball, so it's cool if she's a tomboy. — Chris Brown

I'm 18 in this album. I'm not losing fans, and I'm not disrepecting women, but you reach the maturity of taking it to the next level with a girl. It was only necessary for me to have at least one song like that. — Chris Brown

Is Adrian here?"
"Who?"
"Adrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes."
She frowned. "Do you mean Jet?"
"I ... I'm not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?"
The girl nodded sagely. "Yup. You must mean Jet. — Richelle Mead

You need to just fuck already. Get it over with before you kill each other."

"Ah, always the romantic, Emmy," Joey says.

"I'm so serious," she drawls in a drunken slur. "I don't know why you didn't pull the trigger last night, girl."

"I tried!" I say. "But now he says I have to be sober if I want to hook up with him, and being sober on the road is for pussies."

"Hey, pussies are tough," she says. "You should've seen the thrashing mine took last night."

"Nope," I say. "No thank you. — Mercy Brown

When the guy turned around, Amy began stuttering. Silently. It was a feat only Amy could manage, and only Dan could notice. And it only happened in front of boys who looked like this one. He had brown hair and caramel-colored eyes, like Dan's friend Nick Santos, who made all the sixth-grade girls turn into blithering idiots when he looked their way
in fact, would even say Watch, lean make them turn into blithering idiots, and then he'd do it. Only older. "He. Is. Hot," Nellie said under her breath. "You too?" Dan hissed. — Peter Lerangis

I dress for a certain type of girl that I like. Women dress for us, they dress to attract us, so we should at least show that gratitude to them, you know what I'm saying? — Danny Brown

She had a woman's swagger at twelve-and-a-half. Hair: strawberry-blonde, and I vaguely recall a daisy in the crook of her ear. She was an inch taller than me, two with the ponytail; smooth cheeks and darling brown eyes that marbled in luscious contrast with her magnolia skin; cream, melting to peach, melting to pink. She beamed like a cherub without the baby fat; a tender neck; pristine lips that would never part for a dirty word. Her body
of no interest to me at the time
was wrapped from neck to toes with home-made footie pajamas, the kind they make for toddlers, but I didn't laugh; the girl filled that silly one-piece ensemble as if it were couture. — Jake Vander Ark

What were you doing to that cat, boy?" Myrcella asked again, sternly. To her brother she said, "He's a ragged boy, isn't he? Look at him." She giggled.
"A ragged dirty smelly boy," Tommen agreed.
They don't know me, Arya realized. They don't even know I'm a girl. Small wonder; she was barefoot and dirty, her hair tangled from the long run through the castle, clad in a jerkin ripped by cat claws and brown roughspun pants hacked off above her scabby knees. You don't wear skirts and silks when you're catching cats. Quickly she lowered her head and dropped to one knee. Maybe they wouldn't recognize her. If they did, she would never hear the end of it. Septa Mordane would be mortified, and Sansa would never speak to her again from the shame. — George R R Martin

With dates I like to cater a girl. We do whatever she likes. If she was open to what I wanted to do, it probably wouldn't be a dull date, because I am a jock. — Chris Brown

The girl did not even know the video would be leaked. Yet it is her willingness to suffer hardship that gave her power. Martyrs, you see, are like bees. Their only power comes in death. How many of you would sacrifice yourself to not kill, but merely hurt your enemy? Not one of you, I wager."

I taste blood in my mouth. I have the knifeRing Dancer gave me. But I breathe the fury down. I am no martyr. I am not vengeance. I am Eo's dream. Still, doing nothing while her murderer gloats feels like a betrayal.

"In time you will receive your Scars from my sword," Augustus closes. "But first you must earn them. — Pierce Brown

None of the etiquette books he studied addressed this situation. Maybe he could write one: How to Behave When the Girl You Adore Runs Away from You at Your Own Royal Ball. — Elisabeth Brown

Go to a wig store with your girlfriends, never by yourself. You need someone to say, 'Girl that looks good!' You need someone to encourage you to try pieces on. Try to purchase a wig close to your natural hair color as possible, don't come in with brown hair and try to leave as a redhead unless you are fine with that! — Sherri Shepherd

I was born with a love of animals, the same way I was born with brown hair. When I was a little girl in Rome, I always had pets, which I adored. — Isabella Rossellini

Recovery is a resumption of the work that was not completed when the woman was a girl. It is a coming into her own. It is an opportunity to resume the normal process of development that was sidetracked, perhaps first by constrained roles, perhaps by trauma, and then multiplied many times by hiding in the addiction. Her development was sidetracked by not accepting her needs as legitimate and not finding healthy ways to meet them, by not even knowing her needs. And so this is what recovery is: a developmental process of finding and building a new self. Recovery is a process of radical growth and change. When you are in recovery, you give birth to a new self. [...] Many women initially think that recovery means a move from bad to good. They think that being addicted is evidence of shameful neediness, of deep and lasting failures. Recovery is not a move from bad to good, but from false to real. [...] It is reality, being real, that now guides her rather than her efforts to be good or bad. — Stephanie Brown

That's some list you have there, little girl." He placed the crumpled half sheet of paper on the counter next to one of her knees and finally took off his sunglasses. His deep brown irises pegged her with more intensity than she'd seen in weeks.
Biting her lip, drew his attention and then he focused on her eyes again.
"Did you like it, Sir? — Jennifer Kacey

You will live to love again. You know you have lost your springtime girl, your Molly on the beach with the wind in her brown hair and red cloak. You have been gone too long from her, and too much has befallen you both. And what you loved, what both of you truly loved, was not each other. It was the time of your life. It was the spring of your years, and life running strong in you, and war on your doorstep and your strong, perfect bodies. Look back, in truth. You will find you recall fully as many quarrels and tears as you do lovemaking and kisses. Fitz. Be wise. Let her go, and keep those memories intact. Save what you can of her, and let her keep what she can of the wild and daring boy she loved. Because both he and that merry little miss are no more than memories anymore." She shook her head. "No more than memories. — Robin Hobb

Why are you standing here, Charlie Brown?"
"I'm waiting for that little red-haired girl to walk by ... I'm going to say hello to her and ask her how she's enjoying her summer vacation, and just sort of talk to her ... You know ... "
"You'll never do it, Charlie Brown ... You'll panic ... "
"Besides that, she's already walked by! — Charles M. Schulz

Are we alike
In that in-betweenness?
Can he see,
When I smile my blue eyes back
At his brown ones,
The country-city-woman-girl
Dancer, student
Bewildered
Unbelonging
Yearning? — Stasia Ward Kehoe

Cause if i got you, i don't need money, i don't need cars, girl your my heart — Chris Brown

A raped girl is bad for the family: it shows that they can't protect their women; that they have little social standing; and that they're not respectable. It's worse for the victim because once a woman, or a girl - or a boy - is known as the target of a rape she becomes so despised, so shamed, so worthless that she turns into public property. No one is raped only once. — Louise Brown

I grew up in Huntsville, Alabama, a thoroughly dedicated rocket town. The father of everyone I knew - mine included - was some sort of engineer working to build the Apollo rockets to send men to the moon. For a while as a child, I thought that when you grew up you became a rocket engineer if you were a boy and you married a rocket engineer if you were a girl; few other options in the world appeared to exist. — Mike Brown

Have the pride of the brown girl and know that you'll figure out your own beauty in time. — Tamara Taylor