Good Brow Quotes & Sayings

"I heard something earlier, from Humphrey's friend, Hubert. We stopped at his inn."
Morpheus practically beams. "Ah, Hubert. How is the old sot?"
"Glittery." I furrow my brow. "And grumpy."
A deep laugh rumbles in Morpheus's chest. "I've always enjoyed his company."
"Yeah." I scowl. "He's a real good egg. — A.G. Howard

Let me quote a few words by Dr. Chalmers: "Thousands of men breathe, move and live, pass off the stage of life, and are heard no more - Why? They do not partake of good in the world, and none were blessed by them; none could point to them as the means of their redemption; not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke could be recalled; and so they perished; their light went out in darkness, and they were not remembered more than insects of yesterday. Will you thus live and die, O man immortal? Live for something. Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storms of time can never destroy. Write your name in kindness, love and mercy, on the hearts of the thousands you come in contact with year by year; you will never be forgotten. No, your name, your deeds will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind as the stars on the brow of evening. Good deeds will shine as the stars of heaven. — D.L. Moody

He arched a taunting brow. "Is that why you have yet to climb off me?" Desideria was horrified as she realized she hadn't moved. Every bit of her body was lying against his hard, muscled one. And honestly, it felt good. Real good. Her face heating, she practically jumped away. "Ah now that's just rude," he groused. "You know I did take a bath and everything. Several hours ago, but still." He flipped to his feet, then grimaced as if he'd struck his leg the wrong way before he limped over to secure the door. Even — Sherrilyn Kenyon

She looked from Wade to the rifle and back again. "Not as long as you know how to use that thing." When he cocked a brow Nikki couldn't resist the urge to add, "Just 'cause you've got the tool, doesn't mean you know how to use it."
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he replied with a dangerous look. "I know good and well how to use all my tools. But if you need convincing, I'm happy to demonstrate. — Victoria Vane

Waltz back into our lives as if nothing had happened. We were dealing with Dad's death and I wasn't about to take on her problems, too." "I'm not going to argue with you, sweetheart. Like I said, you did the right thing." "I have to wonder," she murmured, her brow furrowed with consternation. "Karen ... " "I know, I know. It doesn't do any good to rehash this over and over. What's done is done. When I spoke to Nichole about the inheritance, she was adamant we did everything we should have. Cassie wasn't — Debbie Macomber

Oh, Sam, this is Kate. Kate, meet Sam.' I wave my hand between the two of them, watching as Kate turns all angelic, putting her hand out to Sam, who grins before clasping it.

'Nice to meet you, Kate.' he says smoothly, maintaining his grin and running his free hand through his mousey waves.

'You too.' She arches a brow.

She's a brazen hussy! She's flirting with him. She giggles as Sam compliments her on her wild, red hair, their hands still linked. My phone declares a text. To escape the blatant flirting exchange going on in front of me, I pick it up and open the message with one eye closed.

There better be a GOOD f**king reason for you standing me up. Someone had better be dying. I'm going out of my f**king mind, lady. NO KISS — Jodi Ellen Malpas

Why are you naked?" "The better to feed you, m'dear." He pointed between his legs and my gaze roved along his cock. Then I saw his forefinger tapping his inner thigh. "Femoral artery." "Riiight. And the major vein in your neck wasn't good enough because ... ?" One black brow winged up and those delicious lips curved into a naughty smile. "Ah. Because then I wouldn't have had an excuse to get naked. — Michele Bardsley

Jail time is still too cruel," Von Edeco shook his head. "You don't want to be depriving children of their parents, people from their families, even if it's just for a short period. I think flogging is the best method. It's immediately painful, which is a good deterrent. People don't like to get flogged." "No they don't," Geiseric agreed. "But," Von Edeco shrugged, "it's not that big of a deal in the end. It doesn't affect you in any long-term way. It doesn't leave scars. It doesn't injure them. It doesn't deprive them of any time with their loved ones, which is the worst thing you can do to a person." Geiseric looked off with piqued brow. "Flogging, huh? — Rick Friar

I'm not good at much in this world."
Her brow furrowed. She didn't like hearing me say that. She'd never liked it when I knocked myself down.
"But I'm good at loving you, — Elizabeth Finn

My father used to say that there are two kinds of people in the world," Kaladin whispered, voice raspy. "He said there are those who take lives. And there are those who save lives."
Syl frowned, cocking her head. This kind of conversation confused her; she wasn't good with abstractions.
"I used to think he was wrong. I thought there was a third group. People who killed in order to save." He shook his head. "I was a fool. There is a third group, a big one, but it isn't what I thought."
"What group?" she said, sitting down on his knee, brow scrunched up.
"The people who exist to be saved or to be killed. The group in the middle. The ones who can't do anything but die or be protected. The victims. That's all I am. — Brandon Sanderson

when the Lord built the world
he furrowed his brow
calculated calculated calculated
that is why the world is perfect
and uninhabitable

instead the world of the painter
is good
and full of mistakes
the eye wanders
from one color to another
one fruit to another
the eye mumbles
the eye smiles
remembers

the eye says it is bearable
only if one could
enter inside
there where the painter was
without wings
in slippers that fall off
without Virgil
with a cat in the pocket
a benevolent fantasy
and a hand
that unknowingly
corrects the world — Zbigniew Herbert

You don't look like a Rupert."
Startled,he raised a black brow at her. "Dare I ask what I look like to you?"
"A hungry wolf."
He didn't laugh at the description, but he did abruptly release her. "Wolf, perhaps," he said drily. "Hungry? Not at the moment."
She had enough sense to guess she'd just been insulted. Had she touched a nerve perhaps? Good,because he was certainly touching too many of hers.
Regaining her balance after stumbling back from him,she went to straighten her skirt in an indignant manner,but forgot she wasn't wearing one.How could she appear to be offended while she was wearing britches? She settled for grabbing the hat off the floor and shoving it back down on her head.
The very idea! Not hungry at the moment? As if she didn't know he was implying she wasn't to his taste. — Johanna Lindsey

Each time Nate saw her, Elisa's beauty struck him anew, as if in the interval the memory of what she actually looked like had been distorted by the tortured emotions she elicited since they'd broken up: in his mind, she took on the dimensions of an abject creature. What a shock when she opened the door, bursting with vibrant, almost aggressive good health. The power of her beauty, Nate had once decided, came from its ability to constantly reconfigure itself. When he thought he'd accounted for it, filed it away as a dead fact - pretty girl - she turned her head or bit her lip, and like a children's toy you shake to reset, her prettiness changed shape, its coordinates altered: now it flashed from the elegant contours of her sloping brow and flaring cheekbone, now from her shyly smiling lips. — Adelle Waldman

They tried to kill me," he said, his brow furrowed as he glared at them. "You saw them!" "Yeah?" I spouted off. "They weren't very good at it!" (Trent and Rachel) — Kim Harrison

What's wrong with Starbucks?"
"It's a big, faceless corporation." He raised a good-natured brow. "So far, they've let me keep my face. — Rainbow Rowell

And other times there would be tenderness and holding-close liek a warm bath, and hands stroking my hair and brow, and the words carved about the cathedral of my childhood: 'He's like all the other children. He's a good boy. — Daniel Keyes

David's brow unfurled and he crouched down on the floor with his daughter. 'Did you have a fun time with your aunt Izzy?' he asked in a high squeaky voice.
Sydney stared at him blankly.
'Say good morning to Aunt Izzy.'
Sydney stared at me blankly.
'Remember me from last night?' I asked.
'Did you have fun?' Maggie asked.
'I wouldn't go that far,' I replied.
'I was actually talking to Sydney, Maggie said.
'Oh well, she'd probably agree. We had an okay time, didn't we, Sydney?'
'Why can't you talk to her like a normal person?' asked David.
'I'm the only one talking to her like a normal person. You sound like a eunuch. — Lisa Lutz

Do you need help with anything?" he asked with a wicked arched brow. "Maybe with cookies for Santa."
Scowling because no one was here but us, I said, "You're a bit late for that. Santa already came."
He hadn't moved, but I knew better than to think he would. Flynn was a pro at filling the bubble air space that was meant to be private and personal. "And were you a good girl?" he asked.
Awkwardly folding my arms over my chest, I said, "Not sure, I haven't checked. But you needn't look. We all know you are all bad."
Laughing, he said, "Yeah, well, there are other things worth unwrapping."
Grinding my teeth, I asked, "What, you didn't get your Ho, Ho, Ho, last night?"
Tossing back another full belly laugh, he said, "You know you're kind of funny when you want to be. — Shannon Dermott

Something is wrong, very wrong, when a single person in good health, a person who in addition possesses a working car, can barely support herself by the sweat of her brow. You don't need a degree in economics to see that wages are too low and rents too high. — Barbara Ehrenreich

You won't enjoy it," sighed Crowley. "It's been in the car for more than a fortnight." A heavy bass beat began to thump through the Bentley as they sped past Heathrow. Aziraphale's brow furrowed. "I don't recognize this," he said. "What is it?" "It's Tchaikovsky's 'Another One Bites the Dust'," said Crowley, closing his eyes as they went through Slough. To while away the time as they crossed the sleeping Chilterns, they also listened to William Byrd's "We Are the Champions" and Beethoven's "I Want To Break Free." Neither were as good as Vaughan Williams's "Fat-Bottomed Girls. — Terry Pratchett

How did you find me?" he said, anger creasing his brow.
I pushed his hair back to run a finger over the scar Al had given him. "How do you think? He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake."
From the corner, Al shifted his tune. "So be good, or I'll rip your fucking head off — Kim Harrison

I don't feel like getting laughed at. I'm getting in the shower and going to bed."
She grabs my arm. "What do you mean laughed at? Why would I laugh?"
Aside from the fact that she's already laughed twice in this conversation? I raise a skeptical brow but sit back down. After a deep breath, I blurt, "Because that's what you do every time I try to talk to you."
She blinks. "Since when do you ever try to talk to me?" she says quietly.
Huh. She has a good point. When she puts it like that, it doesn't really sound fair of me. I open and shut my mouth a couple times. What, am I supposed to say, "Since I was four"? After all, she's the reason I don't talk to her, right? — Anna Banks

To me, the raveled sleeve of care is never more painlessly knitted up than in an evening alone in a chair snug yet copious, with a good light and an easily held little volume sloppily printed and bound in inexpensive paper. I do not ask much of it - which is just as well, for that is all I get. It does not matter if I guess the killer, and if I happen to discover, along around page 208, that I have read the work before, I attribute the fact not to the less than arresting powers of the author, but to my own lazy memory. I like best to have one book in my hand, and a stack of others on the floor beside me, so as to know the supply of poppy and mandragora will not run out before the small hours. In all reverence I say Heaven bless the Whodunit, the soothing balm on the wound, the cooling hand on the brow, the opiate of the people.
Book review Of Ellery Queen: The New York Murders, from Esquire, January 1959 — Dorothy Parker

Zoya yelped. "That little brat just kicked me."
"Smart kid," said Mal.
I lifted a brow. "Smarter than some."
He had the good grace to blush. — Leigh Bardugo

He watched her as she carried the stone over to one of the walls and set it down. She exhaled and wiped her brow. Then she glared at him.
He smiled - one of his best, he thought. "You ought to bend your legs when you lift the stones," he called out. "It's better for your back."
"It's better for your back," she mimicked under her breath, "lazy, good-for-nothing, stupid little - "
"Excuse me?"
"Thank you for your advice." Her voice was sweetness personified. — Julia Quinn

If you can wear the hard times of your life as furrows on your brow, you can wear the good times as a twinkle in your eye. — Robert Breault

Now burst above the city's cold twilight
The piercing whistles and the tower-clocks:
For day is done. Along the frozen docks
The workmen set their ragged shirts aright.
Thro' factory doors a stream of dingy light
Follows the scrimmage as it quickly flocks
To hut and home among the snow's gray blocks. --
I love you, human labourers. Good-night!
Good-night to all the blackened arms that ache!
Good-night to every sick and sweated brow,
To the poor girl that strength and love forsake,
To the poor boy who can no more! I vow
The victim soon shall shudder at the stake
And fall in blood: we bring him even now. — Trumbull Stickney

Max's scarred brow crinkled. He reached for the coffee mug on his desk. "Motive is tricky. See, what might be a good reason for me to kill someone might not be a good enough reason for you to kill someone."
Swift stared at his hands loosely clasped around his ankle. "I wouldn't. Deliberately hurt anyone."
"And my impulse is to hurt anyone who hurts you." When Swift's gaze lifted to his, Max said, "See how that works?"
He did, and while it wasn't intended as a compliment, it did warm his heart in a funny way. He managed to joke, "Why, I think that's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me. — Josh Lanyon

If you're goingto play cards, you should ask Burke to join you," Adelia put in. "Then maybe Keeley, Erin and I can find something equally foolish to do with our evening."
"Good idea. More wine,Brian?" Keeley lifted the bottle, cocked a brow. The purr in her voice was subtle, but he heard it. And suffered. — Nora Roberts

Is that all I am to have?" She followed him. "I suppose you consider an apology beneath you."
Rather, he was considering her beneath him, how good she'd felt there, and how he would like that again. He halted. "Madam, I offer my profoundest apology. It shan't happen again." As though his feet moved of their own will, he found himself stepping toward her. "Unless you wish it to."
She backed up. "Not in this life." But her eyes were wary.
Good. He did not wish to frighten her. But keeping her wary could work. And yet the most powerful need to be near her would not leave him. Of course it wouldn't. After two long years he wanted a woman. Among his brother's potential brides was not, however, the place to go searching for one. "That must be to my advantage, then," he said.
She screwed up her brow. "Must it?"
"You wield an impressive pitchfork."

-Ravenna & Vitor — Katharine Ashe

Remember our friend Mark?" Wylan winced. Let's say the mark is a tourist walking through the Barrel. He's heard it's a good place to get rolled, so he keeps patting his wallet, making sure it's there, congratulating himself on just how alert and cautious he;s being. No fool he. Of course every thime he pats his back pocket or the front of his coat, what is he doing? He's telliing every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub."
"Saints," grumbled Nina. "I've probably done that."
"Everyone does," said Inej.
Jesper lifted a brow. "Not everyone."
"That's only because you never have anything in your wallet," Nina shot back.
"Mean."
"Factual."
"Facts are for the unimaginative," Jesper said with a dismissive wave. — Leigh Bardugo

It was a tremendously virile and yet sinister face which was turned towards us. With the brow of a philosopher above and the jaw of a sensualist below, the man must have started with great capacities for good or for evil. But one could not look upon his cruel blue eyes, with their drooping, cynical lids, or upon the fierce, aggressive nose and the threatening, deep-lined brow, without reading Nature's plainest danger-signals. — Arthur Conan Doyle

She eyed his gorgeous body, and raised a brow. "Doing a little flaunting of your own this morning, huh?"
"In deference to your delicate sensibilities, I pulled on jeans. Isn't that enough?"
Enough for what, her peace of mind? Ha. Being around Trace, especially with him like this, half-naked, sent her heart racing like a marathon runner's. "Maybe it would be," Priss admitted, "if you don't look so good."
The compliment sent his right eyebrow arching high.
"Oh, come on, Trace. You know what you look like." She visually devoured him again, more blatantly this time, and noticed a rise behind the fly of his jeans. For her?
Well-well-well. Flattering. — Lori Foster

Cash smiles at them and then turns to face me, leaning forward a little on the bar. His eyes meet mine and one brow rises in that holy mother of hell-sexy way, then he mutters, "You've got one chance to make my mouth water."
I suck in a breath. And chills break out down my arms.
Damn, he's good! — M. Leighton

Periodically, the Tailor would stop and stretch and give Wylan a mirror so that he could consult on what looked right or wrong. An hour later, Wylan's irises had gone from gold to blue and the shape of his eyes had changed as well.
"His brow should be narrower," Jesper said, peering over Genya's shoulder. "Just a little bit. And his lashes were longer."
"I didn't know you were paying attention," murmured Wylan.
Jesper grinned. "I was paying attention."
"Oh good, he's blushing," said Genya. "Excellent for the circulation. — Leigh Bardugo

You know, maybe I meant more that you
seemed ... uninterested. In, ah, in ahhh," I moved my palm in circles in the air in front of me.
He lifted one brow. "Uninterested in your ... chest?"
"What?" I realized my hand had been circling right over my boobs. Nice move, Aurora. I rolled my eyes. "No! Not ... that!"
"Good." His dark eyes glittered with amusement. "Because I can assure you I find your chest very interesting. At times, downright mesmerizing. — A&E Kirk

You should know that Rafael is not the beast he would have you believe he is. He may be harsh, but he is fair. However, I highly recommend that you endeavor to be on his good side."
She raised a brow. "Does he have one? — Brooklyn Ann

Beginning at her shoulders, he skimmed a touch down her arms until he clasped her hands in his. He took and lifted them to the level of her torso, then fitted her palms over her own pale, smooth breasts.

"Hold these for me," he said.

Then he reclined to the pillow, once again lacing his hands beneath his head.

She gave him a quizzical look. Then she turned that quizzical expression on her own breasts, plumping them lightly in her hands. "What am I to do with them?"

"Whatever feels good."

"And you're just going to lie there and watch?"

He nodded.

Her brow wrinkled. "Truly. This is something men fantasize about?"

"With regularity. — Tessa Dare

What is easy to read has been difficult to write. The labour of writing and rewriting, correcting and recorrecting, is the due exacted by every good book from its author, even if he knows from the beginning exactly what he wants to say. A limpid style is invariably the result of hard labour, and the easily flowing connection of sentence with sentence and paragraph with paragraph has always been won by the sweat of the brow. — G. M. Trevelyan

I've been waiting a long time to run tests on someone like you, " he said to Daemon, voice high-pitched.
Daemon arched a brow. "Another fanboy. I have them everywhere."
I muttered, "Only you would see that as a good thing."
He shot me a grin. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

She stiffened at the thought and cast him a chiding glare. "Put your weapon away."
He arched a daring brow at that. "Why should I when I have half a mind to make good use of it on you?"
"So you admit to having only half a mind, then?"
Rowena & Stryder — Kinley MacGregor

You smell good to me," he said, his voice deeper than before, like a warm autumn night, the vowels especially round. Not French. Italian? Spanish? He must have come with one of the other guests-one of the other guests who had wretched judgment when hiring stable hands. "I-" "And, por Deus," he said upon a catch in his throat, his eyes hard upon her mouth, "you are lovely." The rutting urge must have overcome him. The only male creature that had ever considered her lovely was Beast, and that was because she sometimes smelled like bacon. She must distract him. "I can help with that bruise on your brow," she said, struggling against panic. "Can you?" He seemed bemused. Jars to the head could scramble the brain. "It's starting to swell. It will leave a painful wound that could fester. Let me up and I'll ask the housekeeper for-" His mouth came down on hers without further warning. Not hard or violently or forcefully. But fully, with complete contact.

-Vitor & Ravenna — Katharine Ashe

My parents say you're no good, Elijah." I exhaled and killed the cigarette in the grass.
Laughing, Eli's eyes went to my lips and his hands touched my bare midriff. "Really? And what do you say?"
He had brought his lips so close to mine that it became hard to think about my next words when all I wanted to do was crush my mouth to his. I wanted him to completely consume me. "I think you're broken," I finally got out, and Eli arched a brow. "But I think I'm broken too. I just don't know it yet. — Nadege Richards

I married a cop."
"I told you not to."
Now he laughed, and kissed her again where her brow had furrowed. "And would I listen? I'm damn good at being married to a cop. — J.D. Robb

I can think of only one good solution to this dilemma," Diego said, having spent the entire night developing a plan.
You sneak into the school and carry her off?" Gaspar quipped.
That is the not-so-good solution. And it would be very difficult to sneak into a house full of women without raising an alarm."
A cloud descended on Gaspar's brow. "I was not serious. Kidnapping is not a choice. — Sabrina Jeffries

If I can, by a lucky chance, in these uneasy days, rub out one wrinkle from the brow of care, or beguile the heavy heart of one moment of sadness; if I can, how and then, prompt a happier view of human nature, and make my reader more in good humor with his fellow-beings and himself, surely, I shall not have written in vain. — Washington Irving

I've been blessed with good eyebrows, and I've worked very hard for them. Get a good brow pencil, fill them in a bit, make them perfect, and I guarantee you'll feel better. At least it works for me. — Zendaya

I took a deep breath and kept my focus fixed on her. "Making me chase you wouldn't be a good idea right now, flower," I stated, fully aware of my Wolf.
"No, it wouldn't, but you need to stay over there," she said firmly.
My brow furrowed. "Why?"
"Because, if you come near me, I will want to kiss you," she said, nibbling her lower lip the way I wanted to.
"Well good, because I want to kiss you too." I moved back the way I had come, and so did she. "Clare - "
"No, not good." She shook her head. "Kissing leads to touching, or grinding, or" - she shuddered as her energy suggestively brushed against mine - "or petting, and almost stripping. — Elizabeth Morgan

Brooke fussed over the wounded lady as they transferred her to the pallet, going so far as to plant a kiss on her brow to praise her bravery.
"What a kiss," Portia complained. "As if I were a child."
Brooke cupped her face in his hands and kissed her thoroughly. He released her only when Portia's faint growl of protest melted to a pleased sigh. "There, was that better?"
"Quite." Portia's cheeks pinked.
"All right, then. Now be a good little girl, and lie still."
She swatted at him feebly as he and Denny lifted the pallet - Brooke carrying the end at Portia's head, and Denny lifting her feet. — Tessa Dare

He made no reply to that, so she continued, gently wiping around his nose, over the broad brow, and up the craggy cheekbones. Not a handsome face. Not pretty or comely. But it was a good face, she thought. Certainly masculine. Certainly one she was attracted to. She paused, swallowing at the thought. She did not know this man. She knew of him - knew that he would without hesitation fling himself into a filthy hole to save her son, knew he was kind to silly dogs and quarrelsome old women, knew he could, with a single, certain look, make her insides heat and melt - but she did not know him. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I'm sick of them. I never want to see them again. Except Aros; he smells nice. And Rome; because he's so strong I'm pretty sure not even Rau can get past him. I don't need the others. Except Siret. I'm pretty sure he hates me, but he's really good at catching me like just before I face-plant into something. But the others, I don't need them. Not at all." I paused, my brow furrowing, my mouth pursing, and then I quickly blurted, "Except Coen and Yael. Coen is really good at making decisions, and if I leave out Yael he'll probably hunt me down and haunt me-"
"That's all of them," Emmy interrupted smoothly. — Jaymin Eve

Certain media attracts more pulpy or low-brow things, especially when they're young. Finding the best story, in any particular medium, is going to be as good, in any other medium. — Corey Stoll

I'm so sleepy."
"My beautiful girl, dawn nears. And all good vampires are to bed."
She eased up, arching a brow at him. "Then you'll stay awake. — Kresley Cole

Fuck me. Austin." Michaels grunted at the first couple inches of penetration. Judge hissed a satisfied, "Yes." Michaels plunged in until his balls nestled against the soft fur on Judge's ass. Michaels moaned low, his voice raw and rough. His pace didn't match his dirty talk. The in and out tempo was slow and easy. Michaels used Judge's thick shoulder to drive in deeper each time. He angled to the right, his dick had already mapped out Judge's erogenous zones, and Michaels hit one every time. "Goddamnit," Judge rumbled, beneath him. "I love you." Michaels sighed over the moist skin at the base of Judge's neck. "Do I feel good, babe?" Michaels whispered, his lips moving against Judge's temple, his tongue licking out to claim the beads of sweat that slid across his brow. "Austin, — A.E. Via

Quinn lifted Lady Meade's hand and pressed a very correct kiss on her bony knuckles. Then he bent and brushed his lips over Viola's cheek.

Smart man. If he'd put her hand anywhere near his mouth, she'd have curled her fingers into a fist and clouted him a good one.

"I'll see you at home later, dearest."

"You know how we women are when we're shopping," She smiled venomously at him. "Don't wait up."

Quinn lifted a brow at that, but kept a smile firmly in place for her mother's sake. "Yes, well, try not to spend all my money in one place."

"Of course not," she said sweetly. "I know lots of places to spend all your money. — Mia Marlowe

Vegas?" I asked. His brow furrowed, unsure of where I was headed.
"Yeah?"
"Have you thought about going back?" His eyebrows shot up.
"I don't think that's a good idea for me."
"What if we just went for a night?" He looked around the dark room, confused.
"A night?"
"Marry me," I said without hesitation. I was surprised at how quickly and easily the words came. His mouth spread into a broad smile.
"When?" I shrugged.
"We can book a flight tomorrow. It's spring break. I dont't have anything going on tomorrow, do you?"
"I'm callin' your bluff," he said, watching my reaction closely as he was connected. "I need two tickets to vegas, please. Tomorrow. Hmmmm ... ," he looked at me, waiting for me to change my mind. "Two days, round trip. Whatever you have. — Jamie McGuire

I take the palette with me, but I have a lot of makeup. I was a makeup artist when I was younger, but I'm not that good compared with my makeup artist, so I keep things pretty simple. I explore a lot with pink and nude lipsticks, but I love red lipsticks. I love a line and a lash and a brow. So I don't need a lot, but I have a lot. It's all there just in case - for Halloween or whatever. — Gwen Stefani

During the seven years that I worked as a management consultant, I spent a lot of time trying to look older than I was. I became pretty good at furrowing my brow and putting on somber expressions. — Matthew Stewart

But our good humour was restored when we saw Lord John Roxton waiting for us upon the platform, his tall, thin figure clad in a yellow tweed shooting-suit. His keen face, with those unforgettable eyes, so fierce and yet so humorous, flushed with pleasure at the sight of us. His ruddy hair was shot with grey, and the furrows upon his brow had been cut a little deeper by Time's chisel, but in all else he was the Lord John who had been our good comrade in the past. — Arthur Conan Doyle

I've prayed night and day for God to lead me, guide me, to make me stronger and prepare me. Yet, I am tormented with memories, suffer debilitating flashbacks, and now-now my father is killed. And you're gong to stand there and tell me it's God's will? Why should I pray? It hasn't done me much good." Yitshak drew back, he brow again knotted. "What? You think praying is supposed to make life easier? If the great I Am answers your prayers, it is not to make life easier, but to prepare you to handle more! — Ronie Kendig

Come aboard, come aboard!" cried the gay Bachelor's commander, lifting a glass and a bottle in the air. "Hast seen the White Whale?" gritted Ahab in reply. "No; only heard of him; but don't believe in him at all," said the other good-humoredly. "Come aboard!" "Thou art too damned jolly. Sail on. Hast lost any men?" "Not enough to speak of - two islanders, that's all; - but come aboard, old hearty, come along. I'll soon take that black from your brow. Come along, will ye (merry's the play); a full ship and homeward-bound." "How wondrous familiar is a fool!" muttered Ahab; then aloud, "Thou art a full ship and homeward bound, thou sayest; well, then, call me an empty ship, and outward-bound. So go thy ways, and I will mine. Forward there! Set all sail, and keep her to the wind! — Herman Melville

Well, Ms. Fontaine, you look damn good for a dead woman."
Her response was to narrow her eyes, arch a brow. "If that's some sort of cop humor, I'm afraid you'll have to translate. — Nora Roberts