Ugly Head Quotes & Sayings

Right, and things were so great back when everyone was ugly. Or did you miss that day in school?" "Yeah, yeah, I know," Shay recited. "Everyone judged everyone else based on their appearance. People who were taller got better jobs, and people even voted for some politicians just because they weren't quite as ugly as everybody else. Blah, blah, blah." "Yeah, and people killed one another over stuff like having different skin color." Tally shook her head. No matter how many times they repeated it at school, she'd never really quite believed that one. "So what if people look more alike now? It's the only way to make people equal. — Scott Westerfeld

His skin was furred like that of a horse. Snakes danced and hissed from his head, their thin bodies acting as his hair. Two long fangs protruded over his bottom lip. He had human hands, but his feet were hooves. Muscle was stacked upon muscle on his torso, and his nipples were pierced by two large silver rings. Metal chains circled his neck, wrists and ankles, and those chains kept him tethered to the pillars. "Who are you?" Strider demanded. No need to ask what the thing was. Ugly as shit covered it. He — Gena Showalter

Patrick's handsome face descended toward mine. He stopped when he was just a whisper away. "You have a beautiful mouth."
God, he was magnificent. Such harsh, sensual beauty. The luck of genetics and vampirism and gym time? Who knew?
He watched me watching him and I knew he was probably in my head, listening in on my thoughts, my confusion. He grinned, just a little, and I knew that rotten, ugly, fat troll was reading my mind.
He laughed, unrepentant, and his breath plumed my lips. How the hell did he do that? How could he pretend to breathe? Or better yet, why did he pretend to breathe? — Michele Bardsley

What the hell is that?" yelled Lord Maccon. He had turned to anger so swiftly; Alexia could only stare at him, speechless.
She let out her pent-up breath in a whoosh. Her heart was beating a marathon somewhere in the region of her throat, her skin felt hot and stretched taut over her bones, and she was damp in places she was tolerably certain unmarried gentlewomen were not supposed to be damp in.
Lord Maccon was glaring at her coffee-colored skin, discolored between the neck and shoulder region by an ugly purple mark, the size and shape of a man's teeth.
"that is a bite mark, my lord," she said.
Lord Maccon was ever more enraged. "Who bit you?" he roared.
Alexia tilted her head to one side in amazement. "You did." She was then treated to the spectacle of an Alpha werewolf looking downright hangdog.
"I did?"
She raised both eyebrows at him.
"I did. — Gail Carriger

When danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled. — Graham Chapman

Lissa lowered her voice and added, "I might not even go to school anyway. I might defer and join the Peace Corps and go to Africa and shave my head and dig latrines."
"Shave your head?" I said, because, really, this was the most ludicrous part of the whole thing. "You? Do you have any idea how ugly most people's bare heads are? They've got all kinds of bumps, Lissa. And you won't know until it's too late and you're flat-out bald. — Sarah Dessen

Braith opened her eyes and screamed at what hovered above her, "Gods! Death comes for me!"
The horrifying face of death curled its lip at her and growled, "Well, that's charmin'." Death sat back in its chair, hands resting on its knees. "This face is not me fault, ya know?" Death looked off, thought a moment. Its finger traced one of the deep gouges across its jaw. "This one actually is kind of me fault." She pointed at the other side of her face, where part of her chin was missing. "And this one. A bit of barney at the pub."
...
"That was not death," he whispered. "That was our Great-Aunt Brigida."
"Brigida? Brigida the Foul?" He nodded. "I thought she was dead."
Addolgar shook his head and whispered, "She just won't die. — G.A. Aiken

Shut up, lumpen-head," Billy had said, setting the stage for our future amicable relationship.
I remembered that very well too. That had been a first too. Nobody had called me a lumpen-head before that. Tavi had had to explain what it meant, and then I had punched Billy in the stomach. People had to help Pradyun separate us and one of the ladies had exclaimed, "But she looked like such a sweet, little girl too!"
"She's not a girl," Billy had said. "She's an ugly lumpen-head, and her parents found her under a toadstool."
Billy had been a sweet, little boy himself. Still was. Hadn't changed a bit over the years. — Sonal Panse

The devil is a woman in a purple dress that's riding up her thighs and revealing smooth flawless skin like maybe she is an angel. A group of men are carrying her, struggling to get her to the top. I have never seen the woman before, or any of the men, but I think she is just so pretty even Sbho doesn't compare. She has long shiny hair that isn't really hers but it still looks good, nice skin, white teeth, and it seems like she eats very well. Her breasts are the only thing that is wrong with her body - nobody needs breasts that are each the size of ugly baby;s head. — NoViolet Bulawayo

Fern didn't think she was good enough for you then, and you don't think you're good enough for her now. And both of you are wrong ... and so stupid! Stuuupiiiid!" Bailey dragged the word out in disgust. "I'm ugly! I'm not worthy of love, waaa!" Bailey mimicked them in a whiny, high-pitched voice, and then shook his head as if he was thoroughly disappointed. — Amy Harmon

How can you love me?" she asked, forcing herself to say the words that would kill the tenderness in his eyes. "You don't even know me. You know 'Lady Agatha,' a composite, a character, a role I played."

He shook his head, his negation gentle but certain. "I didn't fall in love with a character, a title, or an occupation. I didn't fall in love with you because of your past or despite it.
"I love you because of your intensity and passion, because you make me want to be better than I am, because seeing my reflection in your eyes makes me better than I am. I love you because you laugh easily and honestly. I love you because you carried an ugly mutt into a drawing room as though it were a prince and because you gave an old soldier a strawberry trifle. I love you, Letty. — Connie Brockway

She look me over from head to foot. Then she cackle. Sound like a death rattle. You sure is ugly, she say, like she ain't believed it. — Alice Walker

So if I was ugly, you wouldn't be nice to me?" Cam pivoted around, facing me. Even a whole step below, he was taller than me. "I'd still be nice to you if you were ugly." "Okay." A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, "I just wouldn't offer you any cookies." I folded my arms and tried to ignore the close proximity of our faces. "I'm beginning to think cookie is a code word for something else. — J. Lynn

He didn't deserve someone like Lorcan. He'd turned Lorcan's pure and wonderful feelings into something ugly, something to be ashamed of. He stepped into his room, shutting the door quietly behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands as he listened to Lorcan move around his room. He did something he hadn't allowed himself since his daddy had passed. He cried - for his loss, for what could have been ... but mostly, he cried in shame. — S.J.D. Peterson

It seems to me that wherever religion and politics mix in one body, fascist values - and not 'family values' - rear their ugly head. — Christina Engela

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But — George R R Martin

Later, the talk turned to all the other guys/girls who were currently hot for the two of them. 'There's this total dweeb named Robert who's always calling me, and I feel bad because he's really nice, but I'm totally not interested,' Phoebe told Pablo.

'Believe me, I know what that's like,' Pablo told Phoebe. 'There's this girl at Hunter who's, like, obsessed with me. She's, like, this big fat girl. Ass like a truck. She's always writing me these love letters. Maybe I should fuck her. You know, just to be nice.' (Smile, smile.)

'You're so bad.' (Phoebe shaking her head; Pablo loving it; Phoebe loving it, too. What was more ego-enhancing than making dumb jokes at the expense of ugly women? Phoebe could never decide whom she hated more--other people or herself.) — Lucinda Rosenfeld

Wylan's legs gave out and he sat down hard, right there in the middle of the road, and he couldn't bring himself to care because the tears were coming and there was no way he could stop them. They gusted through his chest in ragged, ugly sobs. He hated that Jesper was seeing him cry, but there was nothing he could do, not about the tears, not about any of it. He buried his face in his arms, covering his head as if, were he to only will it strongly enough, he could vanish. — Leigh Bardugo

I don't think you want to know what it looked like."

"No. I do." I shifted my weight to my other foot. These heels were killing me.

Shaking his head, Seth sighed. "You were staring at him like an ugly chick stares at the last cute guy at the bar when they make the last call."

I choked on my laugh. "Oh. Wow. Thanks."

He raised his hands in a helpless gesture, which looked so strange for him. "I told you. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Also-and this is critical-you are not ugly."
She blinked.
Nick's eyes danced with amusement.
"Remember, Isabel. It was your brother who said it. I would not dare to take credit for such pretty words. I would have said something more pedestrian. It takes a great orator to come up with -"
"Not ugly." She gave a little shake of her head.
"What a lovely compliment. — Sarah MacLean

It would bring all of my latent anxieties to a head, and the result, I fear, would be very ugly indeed. — John Kennedy Toole

And of course, in front of me was Mr. Ugly himself. "I can read your mind y'know," the Head Admin pointed out. "You can read!?" The Head Admin sighed. "You — Minecrafer

I'm so happy 'cause today I've found my friends ... They're in my head. I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 'cause so are you. — Kurt Cobain

I turned my head to find Claire glaring at us from across the room. She hated me, and it ran deep and ugly inside of her. She was a problem I needed to fix before I got too fat to do so. — Amelia Hutchins

Fear is a conditioned response, a life-draining habit that can easily consume your energy, creativity and spirit if you are not careful. When fear rears its ugly head, beat it down quickly. The best way to do that is to do the thing you fear. Fast. — Robin S. Sharma

It is perhaps an ugly comment on the American press, but the function of the interviewer on most newspapers is to entertain, not to shed light. . . . An interviewer soon begins to judge public figures on the basis of their entertainment value, overlooking their true importance. It is not easy to get an interview with Professor Franz Boas, the greatest anthropologist in the world, across a city desk, but a mild interview with Oom the Omnipotent will hit the bottom of page one under a two-column head. . . . It is safe to write accurately only about the nuts and bums. When a public figure does something ridiculous reporters may then write about him accurately. — Joseph Mitchell

Holmes is so ugly, his grandmother said when he started to cry the tears would stop and roll down the back of his head. — Muhammad Ali

We had won the war, but when the insurgency reared its ugly head, we lost everything we had gained. — Kenneth Eade

He had a big head and a face so ugly it became almost fascinating. — Ayn Rand

Mrs. Sliderskew was in an ecstasy of delight, rolling her head about, drawing up her skinny shoulders, and wrinkling her cadaverous face into so many and such complicated forms of ugliness, as awakened the unbounded astonishment and disgust even of Mr. Squeers. — Charles Dickens

Do not keep talking to the Devil's Advocate Guy or Gal aka DAG. I'm not against playing Devil's Advocate, because a lot can be gleaned from it. However, when it comes to topics such as homophobia, sexism and racism, a particular kind of DAG tends to rear its ugly head. This person isn't interested in having a fruitful discussion that will enrich everyone involved, nor do they have any intention to have an open and frank discussion about a difficult subject. This person is simply a shit-starter. Someone who is bored and wants to derail a conversation or has some inner rage that they are dying to unleash. During my days of blogging about race, I have encountered this person often. They start out as seemingly run-of-the-mill people, perhaps sharing slightly bias statistics but asking enough questions to seem like they are open to ideas. Eventually though, DAG will lose their cool, and reveal themselves for who they are. — Phoebe Robinson

What do you think of boybands?"
I avoided eye contact, put my hands in my pockets, and shrugged.
"Not my thing, really." What was he getting at?
He chortled, and continued. "They are all the same. They've all got a lead singer whose head is stuck up his own arse, then a hard one who gets into trouble, an ugly one who wants to be taken seriously, and always, without exception, there's a gay one. — Eddie De Oliveira

As the sun went down outside, the television screen started completely lighting up the room in obnoxiously bright colors at hyperactive speeds. The conversation had been slowly rising in volume and frequency, as everyone started becoming more delinquent and the social boundaries slowly wore away.
I don't remember what any of them said because I wasn't honestly paying any attention. I was focusing on my own misery and trying to numb the inner demons, the ugly things Thomas claimed came from the Outside World. Yet, to me, it wasn't outside, but rather INSIDE, as in my own head. I kept hearing Charley's voice from bits and pieces of conversations we had, laughter that I'll never hear ever again. — J.C. Joranco

[looked at other peoples lives and said,] 'How can one let it come to that? How can one not undo this ugly situation?' But now, when the disaster had fallen on his head, he not only did not think of how to undo the situation, but did not want to know about it at all. — Leo Tolstoy

What do you want to talk about until the flight is called?"
"Cold wind. Sleet. The ugly doorman at Club 39. Porridge."
I burst out laughing. "You mean anything that won't give you an erection?"
He smiled at me, his eyes roaming my face lovingly. "Maybe we should just stop talking altogether. And put a bag over your head. And cover your legs."
"Just don't look at me."
"I can still smell you."
"I could move."
"Dare move away from me and I'll put you over my knee, Wife."
"That doesn't sound so bad. — Samantha Young

[..] ...
"What does he look like?" Valkyrie asked.
"Black hair, pretty pale. Ugly scar on his face. Looks like a vamp."
"You should get back inside," Skulduggery said. "Lock the doors."
"You got it, Kemo sabe. I'll keep my crucifix close."
"Vampires aren't scared of a crucifix, Finbar."
"I don't plan to wave it at him, I plan to hit him with it. It's really heavy. I figure I can do some considerable damage to his head." He Stepped back and closed the door. — Derek Landy

She made the beast rear its ugly head. Stirred fantasies in my mind I would have never otherwise entertained. Owning her wasn't enough. Controlling her didn't douse the inferno blazing inside me. — A. Zavarelli

You was talkin' out of yer head last night, too," chortles Davy. "No one's gonna fancy me. I'm gonna be ugly and no on'es gonna fancyme!" he mimics, mincing about the hammock. "You are such a rum cove, Jacky, for thinkin' such things when yer just about beat t' death! Fancy me? Fancy me? Jacky, no one's gonna fancy us, we're all gonna end up lookin' like Snag!"
"Which is how a salty dog sailor's supposed to look," says Willy with a firm nod.
"And you're halfway there, Jack-o!" crows Tink.
Ah, the sweet comfort of friends. — L.A. Meyer

Don't listen to those who say, you are taking too big a chance. Michelangelo would have painted the Sistine floor, and it would surely be rubbed out by today. Most important, don't listen when the little voice of fear inside you rears its ugly head and says "They are all smarter than you out there. They're more talented, they're taller, blonder, prettier, luckier, and they have connections." I firmly believe that if you follow a path that interests you, not to the exclusion of love, sensitivity, and cooperation with others, but with the strength of conviction that you can move others by your own efforts, and do not make success or failure the criteria by which you live, the chances are you'll be a person worthy of your own respects. — Neil Simon

She was very ugly - the ugliest person you ever saw in your life! Her hair was scraped into a bun, sticking straight out at the back of her head like a teapot handle; and her face was round and wrinkly, and she had eyes like two little black boot-buttons. And her nose! - she had a nose like two potatoes. She wore a rusty black dress right up to the top of her neck and right down to her button boots, and a rusty black jacket and a rusty black bonnet, all trimmed with trembly black jet, with her teapot-handled of a bun sticky out at the back. And she carried a small brown case and a large black stick, and she had a very fierce expression indeed on her wrinkly, round, brown face.
But what you noticed most of all was that she had one huge front Tooth, sticking right out like a tombstone over her lower lip. You never, in the whole of your life, ever saw such a Tooth! — Christianna Brand

help" screamed silently in her head, as if she were begging for something: a solution, a cure, a reprieve. A reprieve from what? A cure for what? A solution for what? Her breathing had become shallow. She'd felt beads of sweat at her hairline. Then she'd seen the sign. Their lease at their Newtown apartment was up. The two-bedroom unit was in an ugly, — Liane Moriarty

But it was hard to keep his hands still. He could almost feel them twitching emphatically with his strong desire to reach out and stroke the dog's head. He had such a terrible yearning to love something again, and the dog was such a beautiful ugly dog. — Richard Matheson

Get me in here. Get me in here now!" I order. I have to get out of the swamp before it happens again.
But it does.
I feel it before I see it. Dozens of thick, razor-sharp needles pierce my right leg, sinking into my skin. It hurts like nothing I've felt before, and a strangled scream of pain escapes me.
Babette whips her head around, the motor forgotten. "Rylan! What is it!"
"Get me out! GET ME OUT!" I scream. Fearfully, I look over my shoulder, but seconds later I wish I hadn't as the attacker comes to the surface. It has a scaly body, sharp claws, feral eyes, and a long, ugly, sneering snout that's clamped around my leg.
Melanie identifies it with a shriek. "GATOR! — Colleen Boyd

We're a society of brats, fighting over the same toys. That, for me, is the closest we come to be inherently evil as a people. It leads to selfishness, inflexibility, and impatience -- among so many other traits that are ugly and harmful. We're combative, competitive, petty, and suffer from one fatal flaw that I can never get my head around. We recognize behavior in others that makes us insane, while turning right around and doing the exact thing to someone else. — Trevor D. Richardson

I always saw myself as really ugly. My father even told me I was ugly because I would shave my head and look like a boy. — Asia Argento

Crimson, made from the blood of Romanian virgins."
"Really?" said Henri. his head was spinning and he had to lean on his cane to steady himself.
"No, not really. But it is Romanian. Made from beetles handpicked from the roots of weeds near Bucharest. but they are ugly beetles. They might be virgins. I wouldn't fuck them. You want some? — Christopher Moore

Dana can't stand the idea of an ugly tree not getting to be a Christmas tree," her husband the marshal explained with a shake of his head. "We do what we can for it. — B. J. Daniels

These two things are almost all I want, but unfortunately, neither one is my strong suit. I am very strong on blame, and wish this were one of God's values, but trust, surrender? Letting go, forgiveness? Maybe just after a period of prayer, but then when the mood passes and real life rears its ugly head again? Not so much. I hate this, the fact that life is usually Chutes and Ladders, with no guaranteed gains.
I cannot will myself into having these qualities, so I have to pray for them more often, if I want to be happy. I have to create the habit, just as I had to do with daily writing, and flossing. — Anne Lamott

Who are you?" the boy asked. He examined the stranger from head to toe and made a face. "You're ugly." "And — Claire Legrand

What a strange place, I thought. If I look up everything is so clear and beautiful, and if I look down, everything is so dangerous and ugly. I wished I could keep my head in the sky, but the scorpions brought me back to reality. Or was the sky the reality? — Margot Berwin

He opened his mouth to ask what she was about, but the question never made it past his lips. She was naked from the top of her head to the tips of her toes . . . and absolutely beautiful. His bride was a fine figure of a woman, all soft and round. Just the way he liked his women, and his mouth watered at the sight. But it was a very brief view he got before she tugged a long shirt on and let it drop to curtain all that loveliness. "What the bloody hell is that?" As the first real words he'd said since marrying the woman, Ross supposed they left much to be desired. But he was just so shocked at the sight of the ugly shirt covering all that beauty, he couldn't help himself. — Lynsay Sands

Wherever suffering raised its ugly head, these angels of compassion could be found - in a home, in a relationship, or when mankind decided its conflicts on some forgotten piece of land turned into a graveyard with weapons of war. — Don Bradley

When haters start to rear their ugly head, just play around with them and throw them a bone so they can go away and chew on it. — Richie Norton

And here I am, bravely risking the fallout of wounding your fragile, pudding-like soul - because real, forever friends don't let each other wear ugly hats. I've wanted to say it for a month now, and I can bear it no longer. I know my witch is showing, but please take that thing off your head. — Emm Cole

Can she be sure of that?" Her laugh was ugly. "Eyewitnesses are usually pretty positive. It happened back in June. Kids are so idealistic. How can I explain to her that it really didn't mean very much, that it was an old friend, sort of sentimental, unplanned, old-times-sake sort of thing. I don't make a habit of that sort of thing. But ever since I heard the door open and turned my head and saw her there, pale as death before she slammed the door and ran, I've felt cheap and sick about it. We were getting fond of each other up until then. Now she thinks I'm a monster. Tonight she was trying to hurt me by hurting herself. I just hope George has forgotten what she said. His judgment is bad enough lately without something like that to cloud it. — John D. MacDonald

Is your future faery bride too ugly for you?"
Rhys leaned back against the head rest and studied the seat
back in front of him. "That's not it."
"Too old or too young?"
"No."
I rolled my eyes, but smiled. This was why he was upset. He
hadn't landed the perfect bride-to-be. "Her pretty faery wings
aren't the right shade of sparkly lavender and pink?"
His eyes flashed with anger. "Actually, she doesn't have faery
wings."
"She doesn't?"
"No. As a matter of fact, the dragon oracle tells me the girl I'm
supposed to marry, the one destined to someday become the queen
of the faery realm, isn't a faery at all."
Okay, that was surprising. Not a faery?
"She isn't?" I said. "Then who is she?"
His expression was severe as he turned to look me right in the
eye.
"You," he said — Michelle Rowen

There's not a day without sin rearing its ugly head and not a day in which God's abundant mercies are not new. — Paul David Tripp

I knew a girl so ugly that she was known as a two-bagger. That's when you put a bag over your head in case the bag over her head breaks. — Rodney Dangerfield

Masturbation is not only an expression of self-regard: it is also the natural emotional outlet of those who, before anything has reared its ugly head, have already accepted as inevitable the wide gulf between their real futures and the expectations of their fantasies. The habit fitted snugly into my well-established world of make-believe. — Quentin Crisp

A big, sandy-haired man held his daughter on his shoulders, showing her the Statue of Liberty. I would never know what this statue meant to others, she had always been an ugly joke for me. And the American flag was flying from the top of the ship, above my head. I had seen the French flag drive the French into the most unspeakable frenzies, I had seen the flag which was nominally mine used to dignify the vilest purposes: now I would never, as long as I lived, know what other saw when they saw a flag. — James Baldwin

The Salimbeni genes," I observed, rolling my eyes, "are yet again rearing their ugly head. Let me guess, if we were married, you would chain me in the dungeon every time you left the house?"
He considered it, but not for long. "I wouldn't have to. Once you get to know me, you will never want anyone else. And" - he finally put down the teaspoon - "you will forget everyone you knew before. — Anne Fortier

They're still going to make fun of me," she blurted. "This fight doesn't change that. You can't start kicking people every time someone thinks I'm weird or ugly ... Promise me you won't try. Promise me that you'll try not to care."
He pulled on her hand again, and shook his head, gingerly.
"Because it doesn't matter to me, Park. If you like me," she said, "I swear to God, nothing else matters. — Rainbow Rowell

It is very frustrating to have almost achieved complete failure, only to have success rear its ugly head. — Nathan Gregory

(The Mona Lisa), that really is the ugliest portrait I've seen, the only thing that supposedly makes it famous is the mystery behind it, Katherine admitted as she remembered her trips to the Louvre and how she shook her head at the poor tourists crowding around to see a jaundiced, eyebrow-less lady that reminded her of tight-lipped Washington on the dollar bill. Surely, they could have chosen a better portrait of the First President for their currency? — E.A. Bucchianeri

I filled my head with beautiful things so the ugly things were pushed aside. — Chelsea M. Cameron

The fact that Ridge has been honest in his conversations with me is not something he did wrong. The fact that he has feelings for me also isn't wrong, when you know exactly how much he's fought those feelings. People can't control matters of the heart, Warren.
They can only control their actions, which is exactly what Ridge did. He lost control once for ten seconds, but after that, every single time temptation reared its ugly head, he walked in the other direction. The only thing Ridge has done wrong is fail to delete his messages, because by doing so, he failed to protect Maggie. He failed to protect her from the harsh truth that people don't get to choose who they fall in love with. They only get to choose who they stay in love with." I look up at the ceiling and blink back tears. "He was choosing to stay in love with her, Warren. Why can't she see that? This will kill him so much more than it's killing her. — Colleen Hoover

I will fly away to them, to the royal birds, and they will beat me, because I, that am so ugly, dare to come near them. But it is all the same. Better to be killed by them than to be pursued by ducks, and beaten by fowls, and pushed about by the girl who takes care of the poultry yard, and to suffer hunger in winter!" And it flew out into the water, and swam towards the beautiful swans; these looked at it, and came sailing down upon it with outspread wings. "Kill me!" said the poor creature, and bent its head down upon the water, expecting nothing but death. But what was this that it saw in the clear water? It beheld its own image; and, lo! it was no longer a clumsy dark-gray bird, ugly and hateful to look at, but a - swan! — Hamilton Wright Mabie

The supreme God that we serve has the final say in all matters. There is no higher law and there is no greater power. Hebrews 6:13 states, "He could swear by none greater, so He swore by himself." Since God has a supreme status, When the ideas of man conflict with the laws of God, the ideas of man are doomed. When the concepts of false teachings purvey useless information, they may flounder and flop around on the canvass of human curiosity for some time, but when they rear their ugly head against God's law they are on a collision course with extinction. ~ From the book Supremacy Clause by Pastor Myers — David Myers

It was something ugly and beautiful all at once, wasn't it? How your heart didn't give a damn what your head wanted. — Brittainy C. Cherry

He shook his head. "Not a bit of it. When I arrived, I was small and dark and ugly. The perfect quarry for every bully. And then, one day, I grew tired of it. I had discovered that sarcasm and wit could be far more effective than fists. The duller-brained the boy, the more others laughed at my bons mots. And so I became a nasty bit of goods in my own way, fighting with words where I could not fight with fists. — Ashley Gardner

Realizing she was only wearing a towel, she said, 'Leave.'
'I tried to. Couldn't do it. A conscience is a terrible thing to acquire. Like it or not, you and I are going to be bonded.'
'Bonded?' She shook her head, only to realize that any kind of movement made the pain worse.
His gaze swept over her towel-covered body 'It could be worse. You could be ugly.'
'Get out of my bathroom! — C.C. Hunter

Even after I had pounded his ugly head flat, his body kept on coiling and winding, doubling and falling back on itself. — Willa Cather

I also acknowledge that prejudice runs very deep in our society. And, in the real world, discrimination rears its ugly head in the shadows, where it's very difficult to root it out. — Joe Biden

Because I know I will never love anyone like I love you. That's what will overcome the past every time it tries to rear its ugly head." He stepped closer. "So it's either you and me or me and me, Luce. And I don't really like myself, so I hope you'll pick the you and me option. — Nicole Williams

Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head. — William Shakespeare

I'd still be nice to you if you were ugly."
"Okay."
A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, "I just wouldn't offer you any cookies. — J. Lynn

Philosophy gets its ugly head into everything, but I don't think we live philosophy anymore. It's done. — Agnes Denes

You are living far too much in the realms of your head. That is an ugly, mean, scary place to be. I am not just saying your head is nasty, everyone's head is. You need to vacate that premise immediately and start living in your heart. Your heart is a much nicer social venue. — Lauren Roedy Vaughn

I feel ugly I said and you looked at me as if I spoke a different language. There are things you will never understand and if there were words to describe the rapture that takes place in my head from time to time I would put my hand in front of your eyes to protect you from all the ugliness in the world.
I kept my eyes on the streetlights outside the window and you kissed every inch of my body as if you could kiss the pain away. — Charlotte Eriksson

I looked at Tarbox and saw he was a dangerous and ugly man. It was as if he had been born in someone's nightmare, then kicked his way out of their head. — Paul Watkins

It's natural for children to drift through their early childhood taking their parents for granted, then adolescence rears its ugly head and insouciance morphs into rebellion as they strive to define themselves by being as different from those who gave them life as possible. But for me, now on the eve of my sixteenth year, familial insurrection had yet to seize me - and in reality, it never would. I was my father's son. His moral compass was inexorably mine. I knew that day I would forever define myself not by contrasts to my father, but by emulation, striving to be a "good man" like him. But the term "good man" was not adequate to describe him. Daddy was a great man who charted his own course in life, guided by his own light, irrespective of the opinions of others, be they my grandmother's or those of his Brothers in the Lodge. He was the kind of man I wanted to be, the kind of man I was already becoming without fully realizing it. — G.M. Frazier

[the sheep] sidled up beside him and bumped him lovingly with its head. Val looked at it sadly. "I am sorry, you ugly creature," he said. "I have not used my magic in a long time, and I am very out of practice. — Robin McKinley

You nervous about doing this on camera?"
Chance tilted his head a little, considering. "Well, yeah, of course. You don't know what you look like when you come - for all I know, I'm hella ugly or something. But at the same time ... " He trailed off and shuddered, and his eyes got half-lidded. One hand went unconsciously to his stomach, then slid up to his nipples, which were still pointy and puckered. "It's sort of cool. It's making my stomach all jumpy, and ... " His other hand slid down under the waistband of his shorts, as he made obvious kneading motions on his groin.
"It's turning you on?"
"Mmmm ... "
"Take the shorts off, Chance, and show us. — Amy Lane

Even now, as she walks down the long corridor, the crude jokes, the lewd propositions, the stinging remarks, the jeering catcalls and
the leering laughter echo in her ears. She can hear all the vile names she had been called post scandal. Hateful, ugly names that don't stop resonating in her head even after so many years. They never would. Some memories are etched too deeply to be erased completely. — Chandana Roy

With the help of a friend I got father into a wagon, when the crowd had gone. I held his head in my lap during the ride home. I believed he was mortally wounded. He had been stabbed down through the kidneys, leaving an ugly wound. — Buffalo Bill

I think we should speak more of my suggestions, Miss Chatsworth.' He tilted his head and looked at the door, then dismissed it and whoever might be behind it. 'Unless you enjoy the spread of ugly rumors?'
'Blackmail?' She twisted her lips ... 'How bourgeois.'
'Actually, blackmail heartens back to the best of kings. — Anne Mallory

The things other people have put into my head, at any rate, do not fit together nicely, are often useless and ugly, are out of proportion with one another, are out of proportion with life as it really is outside my head. — Kurt Vonnegut

I'm rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I'm tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not never havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we's comin from or goin to or why. I'm tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I'm tired of all the times I've wanted to help and couldn't. I'm tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it's the pain. There's too much. If I could end it, I would. But I can't. — Stephen King

Joe Frazier is so ugly that when he cries, the tears turn around and go down the back of his head. — Muhammad Ali

In our age it is not sex that raises its ugly head, but love. — John Fowles

I like to read away as much of the afternoon as possible, until real life rears its ugly head. — Anne Lamott

Except ... except for this demon thing. I couldn't control it. And now I can't change back. Of course I was able to scare Chris off. I scared him by how ugly I am."
He shook his head. "Princess, there's nothing ugly about you. — Michelle Rowen

A fine head of hair adds beauty to a good face, and terror to an ugly one. — Lycurgus Of Sparta

Oh man, Alex. That's sad. Seriously, mate, go get yourself laid."
"What?" He gave Baldrick a quick kiss on his little head
he didn't care how stupid he looked, he loved his ugly cat
and put him down on his kitty bed in the corner.
"Isn't that what single sad people do
get cats when they've given up on human companionship? — L.A. Gilbert

What had those vile creatures unleashed in me? What beast had they awakened? I think I vowed to kill the beast and bury it so deep in the abyss it would never again rear its ugly head. Part of me did make this promise. The other part embraced an unfolding of life's inextinguishable flames and the mind's unspoken bondage.
As far as reinforcing the strength of my mind's resolve, I supposed my body was a useless entity. Rather, it was this fancy thing I lived in - a mausoleum that beckoned the living, promising gratification, refuge, solace, peace, even immortality. It wasn't me. It wasn't mine. I realized then, it had never belonged to me. I could control what happened to it only if people were merciful. Watching Valentin was not merciful. It was a torturous joy. — Kyrian Lyndon

If I've already thought through a situation and have a response prepared ahead of time in the event temptation rears its ugly head, it is that much easier to resist. — Tim Tebow

Insane is such an ugly word, a voice in my head said. Think of it as obtaining a new look at reality. — Richelle Mead

set her glasses down on her dresser. "Thanks for the loan," I say. "But they make my head hurt. And they're ugly." I can almost hear her laughing. — Jennifer Niven

Give little people a little power, and it goes straight to their ugly, little heads. -Foot talks about authority — Ray Palla

Essex raised its ugly head. When i was a scholarship boy at the local grammar, son of a city-hall toiler on the make, this country was synonymous with liberty, success, and Cambridge. Now look at it. Shopping malls and housing estates pursue their creeping invasion of our ancient land. A North Sea wind snatched frilly clouds in its teeth and scarpered off to the midlands. The countryside proper began at last. My mother had a cousin out here, her family had a big house. I think they moved to Winnipeg for a better life. There! There, in the shadow of that DIY warehouse, once stood a row of walnut trees where me and Pip Oakes - a childhood chum who died aged thirteen under the wheels of an oil tanker - varnished a canoe one summer and sailed it alone the Say. Sticklebacks in jars,. There, right there, around that bend we lit a fire and cooked beans and potatoes wrapped in silver foil! Come back, oh, come back! Is one glimpse all I get? — David Mitchell