Quotes & Sayings About Her Dress

Before Tessa could answer, there was a knock at the door, and a familiar voice. "It's Jem. Tessa, are you there?"
Charlotte sat bolt upright. "Oh! He mustn't see you in your dress!"
Tessa stood dumbfounded. "Whyever not?"
"It's a Shadowhunter custom - bad luck!" Charlotte rose to her feet. "Quickly! Hide behind the wardrobe!"
"The wardrobe? But - " Tessa broke off with a yelp as Charlotte seized her about the waist and frog-marched her behind the wardrobe like a policeman with a particularly resistant criminal. Released, Tessa dusted off her dress and made a face at Charlotte, and they both peeked around the side of the furniture as the seamstress, after a bewildered look, opened the door.
Jem's silvery head appeared in the gap. He looked a bit disheveled, his jacket askew. He glanced around in puzzlement before his gaze lighted on Charlotte and Tessa, half-concealed behind the wardrobe. — Cassandra Clare

April 10: Marilyn appears on time for six hours of costume tests for Something's Got to Give. She is irritated that Cukor is not there to meet her. She looks radiant, and Peter Levathes tells the press, "This will be the best Monroe picture ever. Marilyn is at the peak of her beauty and ability." But that evening, producer Henry Weinstein finds her sprawled across a bed and unconscious after an overdose of barbiturates. He calls Ralph Greenson, who revives her. It is announced to the press that Marilyn will be part of the entertainment at the president's Madison Square Garden birthday party. Marilyn agrees to pay $1,440.33 for the cost of producing a dress decorated with hand-stitched rhinestones, beading, and mirrors. — Carl Rollyson

More lady-lessons. It is impossible to do all and be all a lady must be and not tie oneself in a knot. A lady must walk erect with dignity, looking straight before her with eyelids low, gazing at the ground ahead, neither trotting nor running nor looking about nor laughing nor stopping to chatter. Her hands must be folded below her cloak while at the same time lifting her dress from the floor while at the same time hiding her mouth if her smile is unattractive or her teeth yellow. A lady must have six hands! — Karen Cushman

THE BLUE DRESS

Her blue dress is a silk train is a river
is water seeps into the cobblestone steps of my sleep, is still raining
is monsoon brocade, is winter stars stitched into puddles
is goodbye in a flooded, antique room, is goodbye in a room of crystal bowls
and crystal cups, is the ring-ting-ring of water dripping from the mouths
of crystal bowls and crystal cups, is the Mississippi river is a hallway, is leaks
like tears from windowsills of a drowned house, is windows open to waterfalls
is a bed is a small boat is a ship, is a currant come to carry me in its arms
through the streets, is me floating in her dress through the streets
is the moon sees me floating through the streets, is me in a blue dress
out to sea, is my mother is a moon out to sea. — Saeed Jones

What use was there in calling a day by a certain name, or thinking of it as anything but weather? They knew what time of the year it was when the timothy bloomed, when the birds were fledging. They knew it was morning when the sun came up. What more was there to know? If Doll was going to be lost forever, Lila wanted to be right there with her, holding to the skirt of her dress. She had — Marilynne Robinson

I remember once when I was young, and I was coming back from some place, a movie or something.
I was on the subway and there was a girl sitting across from me and she was wearing this dress that was bottoned queer up right to here, she was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
And I was shy then, so when she would look at me I would look away, then afterwards when I would look back she would look away.
Then I got to where I was gonna get off, and got off, the doors closed, and as the train was pulling away she looked right at me and gave me the most incredible smile. It was awful, I wanted to tear the doors open.
And I went back every night, same time, for two weeks, but she never showed up.
That was 30 years ago and I don't think that theres a day that goes by that I don't think about her, I don't want that to happen again.
Just one dance ?. — Jack Engelhard

As I stood in front of the mirror in the beautiful little black dress, I knew that I was looking at a woman whom I would never see again. I wished I had never seen her in the first place, but the truth is she had always been there. I was being dishonest to myself by pretending that she hadn't. — Jane L Rosen

Blake waited for her to look at him with a smile, but her shoes were still too captivating. He held a hand up to stop Cole from beginning the ceremony. He knelt on one knee, close to the hem of her dress, and looked up at her. She watched him as he kissed her hand.
"Beautiful, enchanting Livia, will you marry me today?"
Livia's disobedient tears emerged, gravity bathing his smiling face with their small, splashy wishes. She took her hand from his and covered her mouth. She nodded over and over as she cried.
Blake stood and gathered her. Livia dissolved into him, leaving the guests alternately tearing up or looking in other directions.
Blake tried to stroke her hair through the veil, but he was afraid he would pull it out. "Shhh. It's okay. I'm not that terrible, am I?"
Livia shook her head.
"I'm making you my wife right now, even if you cry through the whole damn thing." Blake switched to wiping her tears. — Debra Anastasia

The singing wasn't the hopscotch-jumprope-happy kind. This was the kind of singing that, if you tracked it to its source, you might find a little girl in a moldy old burial dress, her skin pitted & green, with lots of coffin splinters & dirt between her teeth ...
... like a mermaid luring idiot sailors ... Winny wasn't a sailor, & he wasn't old enough to get all sexed up by some hot siren. — Dean Koontz

He didn't see anything."
She rolled to her feet. "I was in your bed! We could have scarred him for life!"
"Grace, we weren't doing anything. Well, I wasn't. You were snoring."
"I don't
" She smoothed her dress down and searched out her sandals, shoving her feet into them. She glanced at herself in the mirror over his dresser and groaned. Hair, wild. Lips, swollen. Face, flushed.
Nipples, hard.
"Dammit!" She clapped her hands over them. "It's like they're broken! — Jill Shalvis

The grey nurse resumed her knitting as Peter Walsh, on the hot seat beside her, began snoring. In her grey dress, moving her hands indefatigably yet quietly, she seemed like the champion of the rights of sleepers, like one of those spectral presences which rise in twilight in woods made of sky and branches. The solitary traveler, haunter of lanes, disturber of ferns, and devastator of hemlock plants, looking up, suddenly sees the giant figure at the end of the ride. — Virginia Woolf

Jane Austen, who is said to be Shakespearian, never reminds us of Shakespeare, I think, in her full-dress portraits, but she does so in characters such as Miss Bates and Mrs. Allen. — A. C. Bradley

There are no captions on red-carpet photos that say, 'This girl trained for two weeks, she went on a juice diet, she has a professional hair and makeup person, and this dress was made for her.' I just wish they'd say, 'It ain't the truth.' — Emilia Clarke

Valerie Jennings had clearly searched deep within her wardrobe for something suitably flattering, only to retrieve a frock of utter indifference to fashion. There had been an attempt to tame her hair, which seemed to have been abandoned, and the fuzzy results were clipped to the back of her head.
"You look nice," said Hebe Jones. — Julia Stuart

I was standing right behind Marilyn, completely invisible, when she sang 'Happy birthday, Mr. President.' And indeed, the corny thing happened: Her dress split for my benefit, and there was Marilyn, and yes, indeed, she didn't wear any underwear. — Mike Nichols

The dancer's trembling heart must bring everything into harmony, from the tips of her shoes to the flutter of her eyelashes, from the ruffles of her dress to the incessant play of her fingers. — Federico Garcia Lorca

I refused to worry about something I could not change, and I still refuse. Look, I'm like any other woman. All this evolved b.s. that I'm telling you is my mantra. It's not something I practice naturally. I had to surrender to not worrying about the way I looked, how much I weighed, because that's just part of the journey of having a baby. I am not a woman whose self-worth comes from her dress size. — Kristen Bell

And the gold of her ruined wedding dress. — Cassandra Clare

I used to be a good fighter." She looks out along the boxwoods, wipes off her sweat with her palm. "If you'd known me ten years ago..."
She's got no goo on her face, her hair's not sprayed, her nightgown's like an old prairie dress. She takes a deep breath through her nose and I see it. I see the white-trash girl she was ten years ago. She was strong. She didn't take no shit from nobody. — Kathryn Stockett

Sir." Several expressions passed over Peabody's face before it went carefully blank. "That's a lovely dress, Lieutenant. Are you premiering a new style?"
Baffled, Eve looked down, then rolled her eyes. "Shit. You've seen my tits before." But she set the communicator down and struggled the bodice into place.
"And may I say, sir, they're quite lovely."
"Sucking up, Peabody?"
"You bet. — J.D. Robb

When you're young, no one cares who your parents are, although Mum would arrive to pick me up in her full hair and make-up and fur, and I used to say, 'Can't you just dress normally, like all the other mums?' I wanted her to blend in more, but I've always been really proud of Mum - as proud as she is of me. — Georgia May Jagger

Astrid Dane. . . Her long colorless hair was woven back into a braid, and her porcelain skin bled straight into the edges of her tunic. Her entire outfit was fitted to her like armor; the collar of her shirt was high and rigid, guarding her throat, and the tunic itself ran from chin to wrist to waist, less out of a sense of modesty, Kell was sure, than protection. Below a gleaming silver belt, she wore fitted pants that tapered into tall boots (rumor had it that a man once spat at her for refusing to wear a dress; she'd cut off his lips). The only bits of color were the pale blue of her eyes and the greens and reds of the talismans that hung from her neck and wrists and were threaded through her hair. . .
"I smell something sweet," she said. She'd been gazing up at the ceiling. Now her eyes wandered
down and landed on Kell. "Hello, flower boy. — V.E Schwab

He was wearing brown leather trousers, a darker brown leather vest, and a silk shirt that matched my dress. The sleeves were almost piratical in style, and the collar was unlaced. His boots were the same shade as his vest, a few shades lighter than his hair.
"Uh," I said again, before managing. "Weren't you wearing that the last time you came to Court?"
"She always dresses me in some variation of this attire," said Tybalt. "I can't tell whether she likes the look of it, or whether she's trying to make a point. This would have been a stagehand's garb, once upon a time, and nothing suited for a King."
"Uh," I said for a third time.
Seeing my distress, Tybalt smirked, leaned in, and murmured in my ear, "I have a disturbing assortment of leather trousers, thanks to her. I'd be happy to show you, if you like. — Seanan McGuire

If I'd played Mammy, I'd of told Scarlett to stick those green draperies up her white little pooper. Make her own damn man-catching dress. -Minny — Kathryn Stockett

She's staring down her desires, while they're staring down her dress. — Phil Ochs

Kate had never in her life seen such frightful deformities, and the goblins had never seen such a hideous dress. — Clare B. Dunkle

I'll be fine." She felt terrified, but she wasn't about to admit it. She drew her dagger Katoptris and tried to look confident. "Anyone gets close, I'll skewer them." Jason hesitated. "I'll leave you the pack. If I'm not back in five minutes - " "Panic?" she suggested. He managed a smile. "Glad you're back to normal. The makeup and the dress were a lot more intimidating than the dagger." "Get going, Sparky, before I skewer you." "Sparky?" Even offended, Jason looked hot. It wasn't fair. Then he made his way to the stairs and disappeared into the dark. — Rick Riordan

The fourth elf was younger than the others. This showed in the perfection of her skin, the agility and speed of her movements, and in the brightness of her dress. Her long silk garment was yellow and gold and green, and she wore a blue silk choker with a trailing silver scarf at her neck matching another at her waist. There was fire in her dark eyes which added to her overpowering beauty. — Ian Livingstone

Graff was floating on his back in the pool when George Wall and I went outside. His brown belly swelled above its surface like the humpback of a Galapagos tortoise. Mrs. Graff, fully clothed, was sitting by herself in a sunny corner. Her black dress and black hair seemed to annul the sunlight. Her face and body had the distinction that takes the place of beauty in people who have suffered long and hard. — Ross Macdonald

It's just a trickle at first, dark hallways, empty rooms, but then Angela sees a face. Eyes wide, nostrils flaring, a little girl's mouth covered with taut rope. The room is damp and cold and simple, a chair in the middle of it all. That's where the girl sits in a yellow dress, hands bound, hair wet with sweat and feet dangling off the floor. The chair's much too big for her, and something's coming. Something bad. — E.M. Blomqvist

Her face might be kindly if she would smile. But the frown isn't personal: it's the red dress she disapproves of, and what it stands for. She thinks I may be catching, like a disease or any form of bad luck. — Margaret Atwood

And the dress she was wearing, a highly inappropriate one that hugged her thighs a little too tightly, rose up an inch every time she took a step. — Whitney G.

He remembered a story Madrigal had told him once: the human tale of the golem. It was a thing shaped of clay in the form of a man, brought to life by carving the symbol aleph into its brow. Aleph was the first symbol of an ancestral human alphabet, and the first letter of the Hebrew word truth; it was the beginning. Watching Karou rise to her feet, radiant in a fall of lapis hai, in a woven dress the colour of tangerines, with a loop of silver beads at her throat and a look of joy and relief and ... love ... on her beautiful face, Akiva knew that she was his aleph, his truth and beginning. His soul. — Laini Taylor

Ten salespeople, all young, all dressed in generic cotton casual, looked up from their conversations, spotted the money in her hand, and simultaneously stopped breathing-their brains shutting down bodily functions and rerouting the needed energy to calculate the projected commissions contained in Jody's cash. One by one they resumed breathing and marched toward her, a look of dazed hunger in their eyes: a pack of zombies from the perky, youthful version of The Night of the Living Dead. "I wear a size four and I've got a date in fifteen minutes," Jody said. "Dress me." They descended on her like an evil khaki wave. — Christopher Moore

Yes, I have actually mined coal, and distilled liquor, as well as seen a girl in a pink dress, and seen her take it off. I am 54 years old, weigh 220 pounds, and look like the chief dispatcher of a long-distance driving concern. I am a registered Democrat. I drink. — James M. Cain

Even with dirt on her face and dress, she took his breath away. — Melanie Dickerson

A girl in a yellow dress on a sunny day with nothing inside her but darkness — Sara Craven

In her red dress and black boots, she stood straight and tall, blue eyes flashing with righteous fury, breasts rising and falling rapidly. Se had never looked more beautiful. — Trinity Faegen

Rip her dress off!" Bob shouted. Bob the Skull takes paperback romances very seriously. The next page turned so quickly that he tore the paper a little. Bob is even harder on books than I am.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Bob hollered, as more pages turned. — Jim Butcher

And then she said nothing else, for Henry put his arms around her and kissed her. Kissed her in such a way that she no longer felt plain, or conscious of her hair or the ink spot on her dress or anything but Henry, whom she had always loved. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, and when he drew away, he touched her wet face wonderingly.
"Really," he said. "You love me, too, Lottie? — Cassandra Clare

Doves coo in the rafters above us as she sits down on the blanket, her loathed dress whispering around her. She pops a grape into her mouth and sighs. "This is so unreal. I feel like a princess."
She couldn't have given me a better opening for the conversation I've been hoping to have.
"Funny," I say. "I was thinking the same thing."
Delilah frowns. "You feel like a princess too? — Jodi Picoult

I pulled the dress out of the bag and held it in front of me. Ella sat up straighter and squinted her eyes, while Michael and Paco made the noises men make when a woman says, "What do you think?" Fathers probably teach those noises to their sons when they're young - "Stand up when you're introduced to a lady, use your napkin instead of your sleeve, and make admiring noises when a woman shows you anything, no matter what it is, and asks you what you think about it. Never, never, never say you have no opinion. — Blaize Clement

The morning air was like a new dress. That made her feel the apron tied around her waist. She untied it and flung it on a low bush beside the road and walked on, picking flowers and making a bouquet ... From now on until death she was going to have flower dust and springtime sprinkled over everything. — Zora Neale Hurston

It was Paxton Osgood, wearing a cute pink dress and gorgeous shoes. She was tall like her brother, but had wide curves, as if one of her angular French ancestors had scandalized everyone by marrying a pretty stout milkmaid, and several generations later, Paxton was the result. — Sarah Addison Allen

The two last were in full tide of spirits, and the Baron rallied in his way our hero upon the handsome figure which his new dress displayed to advantage. 'If you have any design upon the heart of a bonny Scottish lassie, I would premonish you when you address her to remember the words of Virgilius:
"Nunc insanus amor duri me Martis in armis,
Tela inter media atque adversos detinet hostes."
Whilk verses Robertson of Struan, Chief of the clan Donnochy, unless the claims of Lude ought to be preferred primo loco, has thus elegantly rendered:
"For cruel love has gartan'd low my leg,
And clad my hurdies in a philabeg."
Although indeed ye wear the trews, a garment whilk I approve most of the two, as more ancient and seemly.'
'Or rather,' said Fergus, 'hear my song:
"She wadna hae a Lowland laird,
Nor be an English lady;
But she's away with Duncan Graeme,
And he's rowed her in his plaidy. — Walter Scott

Now look: Droplets of oil were dotted across the front of her best dress, over the mound of her stomach. She was clumsy and fat-stomached and she didn't even have the sense to wear an apron while she was cooking. Also she had paid way too much for this dress, sixty-four dollars at Hecht's, which would scandalize Ira if he knew. How could she have been so greedy? She dabbed at her nose with the back of her hand. Took a deep breath. Well. Anyhow. — Anne Tyler

Their daughter came in in full evening dress, her fresh young flesh exposed (making a show of that very flesh which in his own case caused so much suffering), strong, healthy, evidently in love, and impatient with illness, suffering, and death, because they interfered with her happiness. Fyodor — Leo Tolstoy

I have nothing against the veil. And I think that, wrongly, many in the West look at the veil as a symbol of oppression. Now, as long as a woman chooses to wear the veil, because that's her belief and because of her own - that's a personal relationship with God, so she should be free to dress in whichever way she wants. — Queen Rania Of Jordan

As a kid, Punky Brewster was my idol. I wanted to dress like her and talk like her. — Devin Kelley

she'd been given to wear were worn and scuffed. Her dress was too big, her hair unevenly chopped and she still had bruises on the side of her face. Now, he expected her to — Diana L. Douglas

She wore her scars
as her best attire.
A stunning dress
made of hellfire. — Daniel Saint

I, trembling in spirit and worshipping the very hem of her dress; she, quite composed and most decidedly not worshipping the hem of mine. — Charles Dickens

We circle each other, our gazes remaining locked, the white dress fanning out and wrapping around our legs. Neither of us make any attempt to remove it as my free hand drops to her waist, hers on my shoulder. We spin and sway down the aisle in imperfect sync to the beat of the progressing song and eventually I feel my body relax, allowing a small smile to form. — Tegan Anderson

crowded about the four sides of the green to watch and cheer. Viola had set out from home early in the morning looking ladylike and elegant in a muslin dress and shawl and straw bonnet, her hair in a neatly braided coronet about her head beneath it. She had even been wearing gloves. But she had long ago discarded all the accessories. Even her hair, slipping stubbornly out of its pins during the busy morning of rushing hither and yon, had been allowed finally to hang loose in a long braid down — Mary Balogh

Give me my powers back, Artemis, or I'll take your daughter's life. (Sin)
Damn boy, you have an unholy gift for pissing off people. Why don't you tell her that dress makes her look fat while you're at it? (Kat) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

A.J. watches Maya in her pink party dress, and he feels a vaguely familiar, slightly intolerable bubbling inside of him. He wants to laugh out loud or punch a wall. He feels drunk or at least carbonated. Insane. At first, he thinks this is happiness, but then he determines it's love. Fucking love, he thinks. What a bother. — Gabrielle Zevin

She had put on a white linen dress and let her hair down. I told her she was beautiful and she laughed with delight. — Albert Camus

Tyson charged at the Cyclops leader, Ma Gasket, her chain-mail dress
spattered with mud and decorated with broken spears.
She gawked at Tyson and started to say, "Who - ?"
463/508
Tyson hit her in the head so hard, she spun in a circle and landed on
her rump.
"Bad Cyclops Lady!" he bell owed. "General Tyson says GO AWAY!"
He hit her again, and Ma Gasket broke into dust. — Rick Riordan

There are some things I don't understand about Jess and never will. No wedding dress. No flowers. No photo album. No champagne. The only thing she got out of her wedding was a husband. (I mean, obviously the husband is the main point when you get married. Absolutely. That goes without saying. But still, not even a new pair of shoes?) — Sophie Kinsella

I can see her lying back in her faded dress in a room where do what you don't confess. — Gordon Lightfoot

I love dressing up. As kids, my friends and I would dress up as the Spice Girls - Posh Spice was my favourite because I had short brown hair like her. — Eliza Doolittle

When Mrs. Keane whispered, between contractions, that the baby was coming at least six weeks too soon, he shook his head and clucked his tongue, lifting the wet dish towel from her forehead and refolding it and then touching it gently to her cheeks. The dampness, and the perspiration, had darkened her hair and the pain had brought some color to her face. There was all about her a not unpleasant odor of oatmeal or wheat. He knelt beside the couch. When he leaned away, his T-shirt was wet with the amniotic fluid that had soaked her dress and the cushion beneath her. Her knees were already raised, her pale legs bare, and he asked, gently, if she would like him to check what was going on. She nodded and when the contraction had passed, added, "Modesty is always the first thing to go. — Alice McDermott

I fell in love with her partly because I understood what she was doing with her work. I fell because she understood what she was doing with it. I also fell in love because she was wearing a sexy black dress and silk stockings, the kind that hook with garters. — Stephen King

Dressed in new jeans, a light blue dress shirt and a red patterned tie, he stood at Heather's grave with his eyes closed. Although I didn't hear him, his lips were moving like he was praying. In the faint breeze, Mother Nature ran her fingers through his dark hair like I wanted to. He looked tall and strong, the way he used to, but somewhere along the way, without me, he'd stepped into the shoes of a man. And a part of me ached for those missing years. — Jordan Dane

Will." Her hands pulled at his shirt, and it came away, the buttons tearing, his head shaking free of the fabric, all wild dark hair, Heathcliff on the moors. His hands were less sure on her dress, but it came away as well, off over her head, and was cast aside, leaving Tessa in her chemise and corset. She went motionless, shocked at being so undressed in front of anyone but Sophie, and Will took a wild look at her corset that was only part desire.
"How - ," he said. "Does it come off?"
Tessa couldn't help herself; despite everything, she giggled. "It laces," she whispered. "In the back. — Cassandra Clare

Mrs. Whittaker's dress was always studiously suited to its occasion; thus, her bearing had always that calm that only the correctly attired may enjoy. — Dorothy Parker

I point at Drew, as I turn to Dawn. See? My sister finds her soulmate, and not only does she get rewarded with love and happiness, she gets free champagne flutes, and dutch ovens, and fifty-dollar checks. And what do I get? What do I get on a day when I still haven't found anyone to love? When I'm waiting by the phone for some jerk to call me, and acting like a crazy woman, e-mailing him at three a.m., clutching at straws that I might ever find anyone? Do I get gifts? No! I get condemnation from my grandmother, and I get to wear a dress that makes me look like a baked potato. — Kim Gruenenfelder

[Olive's] left foot was bleeding through a wide swath of bandages onto the tarp it was resting on. The bowl next to her was full of blood.
Olive looked a little pale. "I don't think I should move," she said.
"What are you doing?" Roger shut the door behind him and stood with his back to it.
"I decided I might try to eat my toes," Olive said, closing her eyes. "But now that I've started, I don't think I should move."
Roger pushed himself off the wall and knelt down next to her. He unbuckled her silver belt and reached with it under her dress. He looped the belt around the top of her leg and tightened it. His hands were not shaking.
"Sit on the loose end," he said, pushing it under her. "I hope that works."
"You brought flowers," she said, blinking.
"Olive," he said. "You cut off your toes."
She looked down at the bowl. "Are they still toes?" she asked. — Amelia Gray

Betty had never been skinny and she was never really fat. She still had a nice shape, but it was well upholstered now and her new dress made the best of it. — Anita Diamant

On this evening, Mme. Padva wears a dress of black silk, hand embroidered with intricate patterns of cherry blossoms, something like a kimono reincarnated as a gown. Her silver hair is piled atop her head and held in place with a small jeweled black cage. A choker of perfectly cut scarlet rubies circles her neck, putting forth a vague impression of her throat having been slit. The overall effect is slightly morbid and incredibly elegant. — Erin Morgenstern

Jace?" She offered him the glass.
"I am a man," he told her. "And men do not consume pink beverages. Get the gone, woman and bring me something brown."
"Brown?" Isabelle made a face.
"Brown is a manly colour," said Jace and yanked on a stray lock of Isabelle's hair with his free hand. "In fact, look-Alec is wearing it."
Alec looked mournfully down at his sweater. "It was black," he said. "But then it faded."
"You could dress it up with a sequined headband," Magnus suggested. — Cassandra Clare

The only way to tell off an asshole was face-to-face and to look fantastic doing it. So, here she was, with perfect makeup, hair done in a riot of waves that had taken a ridiculously long time to create, and a brand new screw you and the horse you rode in on dress laid out on her bed. — Roberta Pearce

Dress the pussy for her nighty and follow her piggytails up their way to Winkyland. — James Joyce

As insane as his request sounded to her, the fact that he already saw her nakedness the day before made her calm down a little. "He even covered my nakedness and gifted me with a beautiful dress," she thought to herself. He held her hand and led her to the Nile river's shore. He let go and stood back watching her. — Mirette Baghat

Two women, one fat and the other slim, sat on straw-bottomed chairs, knitting black wool. The slim one got up and walked straight at me - still knitting with downcast eyes - and only just as I began to think of getting out of her way, as you would for a somnambulist, stood still, and looked up. Her dress was as plain as an umbrella-cover, and she turned round without a word and preceded me into a waiting-room. — Joseph Conrad

When she heard this Sonya blushed so that tears came into her eyes and, unable to bear the looks turned upon her, ran away into the dancing hall, whirled round it at full speed with her dress puffed out like a balloon, and, flushed and smiling, plumped down on the floor. — Leo Tolstoy

I think it would be easier to fight in a dress," says Marlene, tapping her chin. "It would give your legs freer movement. And who really cares if you flash people your underwear, as long as you're kicking the crap out of them?"
Lynn goes silent, like she recognizes that as a spark of brilliance but can't bring herself to admit it.
"What's this about flashing underwear?" says Uriah, sidestepping a bunk. "Whatever it is, I'm in. — Veronica Roth

He thinks he is a flower to be looked at And when he pulls his frilly nylon pants right up tight He feels a dedicated follower of fashion. When a waiter at Buckingham Palace spilled soup on her dress: Never darken my Dior again! — Ray Davies

It doesn't really matter [if she ever wears the dress], as long as she loves it. She'll wear it a hundred times in her imagination before she even tries it on again. As long as she has the option of wearing it, she'll be happy. — Erin McKean

Clara wore a dress of brown and cream velvet, and her feathered mask, in comparison, made her look like a sparrow — Malinda Lo

colorblind lumberjack." The sad part was that her mother had a good point; she needed to dress more like a businesswoman and less like an artist. But apparently she'd gotten it — Cleo Peitsche

Lack of courage or means often deters the European woman from more independent business activity, and this in spite of increasing freedom to choose her occupation, in spite of brilliant examples of successful undertakings of women, in photography, hotel or boarding-house management, dress-making, etc. — Ellen Key

One day, my twin sister Sidra and I pranked Tyler Perry on the set of 'For Better or Worse.' I made her dress up as me and do a scene as if she were my character Angela. Tyler says, 'Action!' and my sister starts acting. It was horrible. — Tasha Smith

In a city by the sea which was once called St. Petersburg, then Petrograd, then Leningrad, then, much later, St. Petersburg again, there stood a long, thin house on a long, thin street. By a long, thin window, a child in a pale blue dress and pale green slippers waited for a bird to marry her. — Catherynne M Valente

Strat yearned to imagine her without even the thin white dress, but it would not be honorable, so he prevented himself from having such a fantasy. — Caroline B. Cooney

I took her dress over to the closet and hung it up. It was funny. It made me feel sort of sad when I hung it up. I thought of her going in a store and buying it, and nobody in the store knowing she was a prostitute and all. The salesman probably just thought she was a regular girl when she bought it. It made me feel sad as hell- I don't know why exactly. — J.D. Salinger

I don't want them to think that we dress like savages,' she replied, with a scorn that Pocahontas might have resented; and he was struck again by the religious reverence of even the most unworldly American women for the social advantages of dress.

'It's their armour,' he thought, 'their defence against the unknown, and their defiance of it.' And he understood for the first time the earnestness with which May, who was incapable of tying a ribbon in her hair to charm him, had gone through the solemn rite of selecting and ordering her extensive wardrobe. — Edith Wharton

The boy gestured with his chin at Dimity. "She was shot." He sounded remarkably unconcerned for a brother with any degree of affection for his sibling."Good lord!" Sophronia climbed in to see to her new friend's health. The bullet had grazed Dimity's shoulder. It had ripped her dress and left a partly burned gash behind, but didn't look all that bad. Sophronia checked to make certain Dimity had no other injuries. Then she sat back on her heels."Is that all? I've had worse scrapes from drinking tea. Why has she come over all crumpled?"Pillover rolled his eyes. "Faints at the sight of blood, our Dimity. Always has. Weak nerves,father says. It doesn't even have to be her blood. — Gail Carriger

She watched his throat move, and then, he reached out and touched her face. "You sure are pretty," he said. "It's the stone," she replied immediately. Her skin felt warm; his fingertip touched just the very edge of her mouth. "It's flattering." Adam gently pulled the stone out of her hand and a set it on the floorboards between them. Through his ingers he threaded one of the flyaway hairs by her cheek. "My mother used to say, 'Don't throw compliments away, so long as they're free." HIs face was very earnest. "That one wasn't mean tho cost you anything, Blue." Blue plucked at the hem on her dress, but she didn't look away from him. "I don't know what to say when you say things like that." "You can tell me if you want me to keep saying them." She was torn by the desire to encourage him and the fear of where it would lead. "I like when you say things like that." Adam asked, "But what?" "I didn't say but." "You meant to. I heard it. — Maggie Stiefvater

The captain called for her in her suite as she was finishing her morning cup of spiced milk. He declined to sit while she drank. When he blinked at her dress and hid a brief smirk, Kestrel knew that she wouldn't like wherever they were going. When he didn't suggest that she change into something that wouldn't be so easily sullied, she knew that she didn't like him. — Marie Rutkoski

Why didn't you guys dress up?" Lindsey asks.
"We did." Calliope cracks her first smile. "we're dressed as twins."
Lindsey grins back. "Hmm, I see it now. Fraternal or identical?"
"You'd be surprised how many people ask," Cricket says.
"What do you tell them?" Lindsey asks.
"That I have a penis."
Oh God. My cheeks burn as they all burst into laughter. Think about something else, Dolores. ANYTHING else. Cucumbers, Bananas, Zucchini. AHHHH! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. I turn my face away from them as Calliope fakes a yakking sound. — Stephanie Perkins

that dressing room for an hour as my mother pretended to be making up her mind about buying that dress she could never afford. And from that day on we never saw her adorn her glorious hair with a single blossom, nor was she ever in our long childhood — Pat Conroy

Jessamine blew out her cheeks in exasperation. "I think you ought to let me take poor Tessa into town to get some new clothes. Otherwise, the first time she takes a deep breath, that dress will fall right off her."
Will looked interested. "I think she should try that out right now and see what happens. — Cassandra Clare

Wilhelm glanced up just in time to see Rose walk in. His jaw fell. Her hair, her dress, her face ... She made everyone else in the room look pale and lifeless. He'd better close his mouth before someone saw him staring. — Melanie Dickerson

You dress her in a wet T-shirt and make her carry the bags? Damn, Cade, I like how you roll - Rok — Kresley Cole

The door of the jail being flung open, the young woman stood fully revealed before the crowd. It seemed to be her first impulse to clasp the infant closely to her bosom that she might conceal a certain token which was wrought or fastened to her dress. In a moment, however, wisely judging that one token of her shame would but poorly serve to hide another, she took the baby on her arm, and, with a burning blush and yet a haughty smile, looked around at her townspeople and neighbors. On the breast of her gown, in fine red cloth, surrounded with an elaborate embroidery and fantastic flourishes of gold thread, appeared the letter A. — Nathaniel Hawthorne

Believing in the danger which sprang from objects as well as people, which dress, which shoes, which coat demanded less of her panicked heart and body? For a costume was a challenge too, a discipline, a trap which once adopted could influence the actor. — Anais Nin

The woman, who belonged to the courtesan class, was celebrated for an embonpoint unusual for her age, which had earned for her the sobriquet of "Boule de Suif" (Tallow Ball). Short and round, fat as a pig, with puffy fingers constricted at the joints, looking like rows of short sausages; with a shiny, tightly-stretched skin and an enormous bust filling out the bodice of her dress, she was yet attractive and much sought after, owing to her fresh and pleasing appearance. Her face was like a crimson apple, a peony-bud just bursting into bloom; she had two magnificent dark eyes, fringed with thick, heavy lashes, which cast a shadow into their depths; her mouth was small, ripe, kissable, and was furnished with the tiniest of white teeth. — Guy De Maupassant

The Field of Mars, June, death, life, white nights, Dasha, Dimitri, the all came ...
And went.
But there Alexander still was, standing on that street, on that curb, in the sun, looking at her under the elms, looking at provenance across from him provenance in a white dress with red roses, licking her ice cream with red lips, singing. His and only his for one hundred minutes, blink of an eye and gone. It all was. — Paullina Simons

Truth in her dress finds facts too tight. In fiction she moves with ease. — Rabindranath Tagore