Hair Off Eyebrow Quotes & Sayings

The voice was low and smooth, almost hypnotizing, and a second later the shadow shifted and stepped forward, resolving into a man with broad shoulders and a wiry form, all lean muscle and long bone. The FTF fatigues fit him perfectly, and beneath his rolled sleeves, small black crosses circled both forearms. Above a chiseled jaw, fair hair swept down into eyes as black as pitch. The only imperfection was a small scar running through his left eyebrow - a relic from his first years - but despite the mark, Leo Flynn looked more god than monster. — Victoria Schwab

Since no one else in this house plays football, I'm assuming you're talking about me, and yes, he's awake," Mason said, coming into the kitchen. He stopped, gave the pile of fruit a lifted eyebrow, then ran a hand through his hair. "Shit, Logan. I said to grab a few pieces of fruit. You got the entire produce section." I smirked. "You don't know. That could be my new pet name for Nate's asshole. Wide receiver - " Nate yelled, "Shut the fuck up!" Laughing, — Tijan

When I was a teenager, I was fat. I was shy. I wore glasses. I had a big eyebrow and hair all over my body. They were years of torture. — Gloria Estefan

You mean his kisses." Hannah corrected her.

Jonas narrowed his gaze. "You seem obsessed with his kisses, Hannah."

She shrugged. "It's been a while. I'm looking for a little action."

His eyebrow shot up. "Oh, really?" Jonas leaned down, his hand twisting in her hair, holding her head perfectly still as his mouth took possession of hers.

Libby gasped in shock. The kiss seemed to go on and on forever. And there was definitely tongue. Hannah not only wasn't struggling, she seemed to be kissing him back.

Jonas pulled away just as abruptly, shoving his hat on his head and turning toward the living room. "That should hold you for a while. Next time you're feeling a little hard up, give me a call." He strode out of the room. — Christine Feehan

An extremely tattooed man frowned over at her. He had military-cropped brown hair, two eyebrow rings and soft, full lips. He also had more muscles than a world champion power-lifter. He would have been handsome - in a serial-killer kind of way - if not for those tattoos. Even his cheeks were painted with violent images of war and weapons. His — Gena Showalter

Samira's guards are coming for you. You're being summoned. Didn't you hear the horn? Come on, they'll be here any second looking for you."
I bit my lip to hold back a smile of my own at why we hadn't heard the horn.
"Summoning me ... "
"Your guess is as good as mine, now come on. Cam, for crying out loud, fix your hair." She cocked her eyebrow and gave me the I-know-you've-been-messing-around look. "And you," she shot Gavin the same look, "zip up your fly, Don Juan." She rolled her eyes and turned for the door. — Rachael Wade

Clubs rattled behind them. Skeet Cooper rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and rose from the bench. "Looks like Kenny's caddy's here."
Dallie lifted an eyebrow as his son stepped up on the tee carrying Kenny's bag.
Ted smiled. "Sorry I'm late. Mom made me eat breakfast. Then she started fussing with my hair, don't ask me why."
Dallie took the driver Skeet handed him. "Funny you didn't mention that you were going to caddy for Kenny today."
"Must have forgot." Ted smiled and shifted the bag. "I told Skeet."
Dallie shot Skeet an annoyed look that didn't bother Skeet one bit. Kenny gestured toward the tee. "Be my guest. I believe in showing respect for the elderly and the infirm. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

If retirement requires a certain degree of peace of mind and an easy conscience, Victor Florian did not appear to have much of either. He held an unlit cigar in his mouth and had more hair in each eyebrow that most people have on their head. — Carlos Ruiz Zafon

My darkness reaches out and fumbles at a typewriter with its tongs. Your darkness reaches out with your tongs and grasps a book. There are twenty modes of change, filter and translation between us. What an extravagant coincidence it would be if the exact quality, the translucent sweetness of her cheek, the very living curve of bone between the eyebrow and hair should survive the passage! How can you share the quality of my terror in the blacked-out cell when I can only remember it and not re-create it for myself? No. Not with you. Or only with you, in part. For you were not there. — William Golding

He leaned forward and plucked something out of my hair. 'What - ?' He held the dead leaf before me.
'Must have gotten that rolling around with Alexi in the backyard.' I blinked and looked at him. 'That sounded so wrong.'
He nodded, eyebrow quirked. Waiting.
'I'm trying to learn a few things from your more experienced brother so I'm ready for our big event.'
His expression didn't change.
'Yee-ahhh. Not any better, huh?' I laughed. Our big event could mean two vastly different things to Pietr. 'Lemme just run through the other ways I could get this wrong: Alexi's teaching me some moves. He's trying to put the hurt on me. He was putting me into some positions I've never tried before ... I snorted. I couldn't help myself.
A muscle near Pietr's left eye twitched.
'He's teaching me to fight!' I laughed, grabbing his wrists. — Shannon Delany

His arms are tatted up, half sleeves to his elbows. His eyebrow is missing a ring they must've confiscated. Dark blue eyes dark brown hair sharp jawline strong lean frame. Gorgeous Dangerous. Terrifying. Horrible. — Tahereh Mafi

Ransom really looked at the other man for the first time, shook his head, stared again."Holy hell, your eyes are like a fucking viper's."
Venom raised an eyebrow."You have hair prettier than one of Astaad's concubines."
Ransom gave the vampire the finger.
Venom grinned. — Nalini Singh

Stop looking at it," Cole commanded. "Focus on walking."
I turned to face him and he raised an eyebrow at my appearance. "What is it?" I said.
He bit his lip. "It's okay. I always thought you should have short hair."
My hand flew up to the side of my head. I felt brittle, curly strands that fell away as I touched them. — Brodi Ashton

Hi, my name is Ryan Foxheart. Oh no! There's danger afoot! Let me pull out my sword and pose." I mimed pulling a sword from my side and cocked an eyebrow. "Notice how dashing I am. And immaculate. And today, my hair is parted on the right. Wink. — T.J. Klune

I'm sorry I'm slow."
He brushes my hair over my shoulder. "You're not slow."
I raise an eyebrow.
"I'm serious." When he sees I'm unconvinced, he rubs at his stubble and starts again. "I don't want you to give any more than you want. What makes this special is that you're into it. The moment you aren't, that's where I become a bastard for asking for more. I'm telling you, I've got no problem taking it slow. — Katie McGarry

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You know this guy?"
"Listen," I say, taking one look at White Guy and am glad he's wearing a blue button-down instead of his coral shirt. It's still geek city, but at least I can keep a straight face when I say, "This guy's been in jail more times than me. He might look like a complete pendejo, but underneath that fucked-up hair and lame shirt he's a complete badass. — Simone Elkeles

I'm not ill like that," she groaned. He sat on her bed, peeling back the blanket. A servant entered, frowning at the mess on the floor, and shouted for help.
"Then it what way?"
"I,uh ... " Her face was so hot she thought it would melt onto the floor. Oh you idiot. "My monthly cycles finally came back!"
His face suddenly matched hers and he stepped away, dragging his hand through his short hair. "I-if ... Then I'll take my leave," he stammered, and bowed. Celaena raised an eyebrow, and then, despite herself, smiled as he left the room as quick as his feet could go without running, tripping slightly in the doorway as he staggered into the rooms beyond. — Sarah J. Maas

I can't bury another friend."
"You won't."
"If anything ever happened to you, Rowan-"
"Don't" he breathed. "Don't even say it. We dealt with that enough the other night."
He lifted a hand - hesitated, and then brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. His callused fingers scrapped against her cheekbone, then caressed the shell of her ear.
It was foolish to even start down that road, when every other man she'd let in had left some wound, in one way or another, accidentally or not.
There was nothing tender in his face. Only a predator's glittering gaze. "When we get back," he said, "remind me to prove you wrong about every thought that just went through your head."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"
He gave her a sly smile that made thinking impossible. Exactly what he wanted - to distract her from the horrors of tomorrow. "I'll even let you decide how I tell you: with words"- his eyes flickered once to her mouth- "or with my teeth and tongue. — Sarah J. Maas

Hellooo." I held out my arm. "An amethyst woman with blue hair is telling you this."
She reached out and scraped her short nails over my arm.
I snatched my arm back. "Ow."
Not body makeup." She frowned and peered at the roots of my hair. "A good die-job or you've really got blue hair."
For now," I said. "I'm half Drow."
She raised an eyebrow.
Dark Elves."
Uh-huhhhh."
During the day I look normal, like you."
With an amused look she held up her arm, showing her dark, golden skin. "You're Kenyan and Puerto Rican? — Cheyenne McCray

What is it with you today?" says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are still
swollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face.
"Oh, you know," I say. "Sun shining. Birds chirping."
She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an underground
tunnel. — Veronica Roth

No offense, but I'm getting stir-crazy. Can we please go downstairs and hang in the bar or do anything that keeps me from sitting here bored out of my mind while the three of you watch me grow eyebrow hair? I mean really, I am fine. I'm not going to spontaneously combust or do anything else freaky. Promise. (Tory) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

She did not look like an orphan, said the wife of the Oriel don, subsequently, on the way home. The criticism was a just one ... Tall and lissom, she was sheathed from the bosom downwards in flamingo silk, and she was liberally festooned with emeralds. Her dark hair was not even strained back from her forehead and behind her ears, as an orphan's should be. Parted somewhere at the side, it fell in an avalanche of curls upon one eyebrow. From her right ear drooped heavily a black pearl, from her left a pink; and their difference gave an odd, bewildering witchery to the little face between. — Max Beerbohm

There is nothing original about you. From your dyed hair to the plastic on your fingernails, you are an illusion."
"I'm a natural blonde. I can prove it if you'd like." I raised an eyebrow as his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. If I didn't know any better, it looked as though he was fighting against a smirk. — Teresa Mummert

Do you need me?" she said. She could scout as well as Roar and Brooke, who had already disappeared into the darkness.
Perry looked up. His hair was tied back with a leather strip, but a piece fell forward, a blond wave coming to rest at his eyebrow. "You want the truth?"
Aria braced herself for a comment about her arm. "Always."
"That's my answer. — Veronica Rossi

I agree," Skyler replied. "There's nothing funny about it." He pointed to
the cottage. "The house is unoccupied; we have permanent residents
looking for a place to stay." He held up both hands. "What's the problem?"

"The problem?" Ella asked, with a raised eyebrow. "I think the problem
is six-foot tall, has black hair, green eyes and the ability to kick your ass
across Salvador. — S.F. Mazhar

Sand from the Urns
Green as mould is the house of oblivion.
Before each of the blowing gates your beheaded minstrel turns blue.
For you he beats his drum made of moss and of harsh
pubic hair;
With a festering toe in the sand he traces your eyebrow.
Longer he draws it than ever it was, and the red of your
lip.
You fill up the urns here and nourish your heart. — Paul Celan

He looks a bit like Robert Pattinson - if you genetically spliced him with Buzz Lightyear. He has dark, quiffy hair and wide-spaced eyes, though his skin is tanned as opposed to diamond sparkly white. He has a very square jaw with a dimple in the center of his chin but alas no jet
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SARAH ALDERSON
pack. I note that his eyebrow is cocked and the smile on his face is half sneer, half smirk as if he's laughing at Eliza but she doesn't seem to realize.
I shake my head. I'm making a lot of assumptions here and the only two that I can safely claim are true are the ones about him being neither a vampire nor a space ranger. — Sarah Alderson

Do you want to be saved?" I asked.
Keri cocked an eyebrow. "Like Jesus?"
"Like Lancelot."
"I hang my hair out the window every night, waiting for some dude to climb up. — Aaron Starmer

He murmers into my hair, "Forget what I said earlier, let's stick with this, I might not survive anything more." I laugh. Then he jumps up, finds my wrists, and pins them over my head. "Yeah, right. Totally joking, I want to do everything with you, whenever you're ready, I'm the one, promise?" He's above me, batting and grinning like a total hooplehead.
"I promise," I say.
"Good. Glad that's decided." He raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to deflower you, John Lennon. — Jandy Nelson

George gives me a smile, the same dazzling sweet smile as his big brother, although, at this point, with green teeth. "I might marry you," he allows. "Do you want a big family?"
I start to cough and feel a hand pat my back.
"George, it's usually better to discuss this kind of thing with your pants on." Jase drops boxer shorts at George's feet, then sets Patsy on the ground next to him.
She's wearing a pink sunsuit and has one of those little ponytails that make one sprout of hair stick straight up on top all chubby arms and bowed legs. She's, what, one now?
"Dat?" she demands, pointing to me a bit belligerently.
"Dat is Samantha," Jase says. "Apparently soon to be your sister-in-law." He cocks an eyebrow. "You and George move fast."
"We talked astronauts," I explain ... — Huntley Fitzpatrick