Quotes & Sayings About Wearing What You Want

Have you seen what Gio's wearing? Is it tights? Please tell me it's tights."
"Should it weird me out that you want to ogle my husband's ass in a pair of tights?"
Dez just shook her head. "Not appreciating that ass would be like walking through the Sistine Chapel and not looking up. — Elizabeth Hunter

I always want to make sure that I am wearing what I love. What makes you feel good. And you're not wearing for anyone else but yourself. — Sarah Lafleur

I don't want to discount the beautiful work that the fashion houses do, but somehow, just focusing on what you're wearing feels reductive. — Reese Witherspoon

My mom doesn't say anything. I don't say anything. Neither of us knows yet what you should say when rape victims blame themselves: 'It was not your fault.'

It was not your fault, even if you were drunk, even if you were wearing a low-cut minidress, even if you were out walking alone at night, even if you were on a date with the rapist and kind of liked him but didn't want to have sex with him. — Joanna Connors

There's nothing interesting about looking perfect- you lose the point. You want what you're wearing to say something about you, about who you are. — Emma Watson

You want to know what I'm wearing?"
"Not unless you think it'll really get me excited."
"I'm afraid clothes have to have women in them for you to get excited."
"Maybe you could talk in a high voice."
"Cut through the shit, Hap. — Joe R. Lansdale

you like men. So let's honour your tradition and do this your way." She came back wearing a strap-on. Martha took it in her hands and was surprised to see her fingers looked pale and gentle, unusually feminine against the skin-coloured rod. She wanted to take it in her mouth, but Petra said no again. "When you want a man, how do you want him?" she heard. "What do you ask your men to do? Tell me." She brushed her mouth against Martha's knees and thighs, then pulled apart her legs and slid in like a snake. They both stood still for a moment. Petra kissed her and did not stop kissing when she started swaying, and Martha was filled with slithering and enveloped by a thousand arms. Later they lay entangled, forgetting about time. — Lydia Perovic

Our sainted aunts prate of living for others while our rich uncles call us mollycoddles for not fighting for what we want. Murder is a patriotic act if you commit it in a uniform; it is the blackest sin if you kill someone while wearing a gray flannel suit. — Nicholas Samstag

When they got back in the Corvette, Gretel fished around in her shopping bad. "What is this?"
She had chosen a black tank suit, but somehow a pink bikini had wound up among her purchases.
"Don't be mad," Margot pleaded.
"I'm not wearing this." Gretel tossed the bikini back in the bag. All the same, she couldn't help but notice the fabric was the same exact shade as the palest climbing roses. The tint of seashells on a deserted beach, or the mouth of someone you might want to kiss. — Alice Hoffman

Don't sit there watching TV without your glasses! Do you want to ruin your eyes?!"
"My opthalmologist says that not wearing glasses cannot hurt the eyes even if those glasses are badly needed for adequate vision."
"What does your opthalmologist think of the foreign situation? — Charles M. Schulz

Butch repositioned the Sox cap, and as his wrist passed by his nose, he got another whiff of himself. "Ah, V ... listen, there is something a little weird going down on me."
"What?"
"I smell like men's cologne."
"Good for you. Females dig that kind of thing."
"Vishous, I smell like Obsession for Men, only I'm not WEARING any, you feel me?"
There was silence on the line. Then, "Humans don't bond."
"Oh, really. You want to tell that to my central nervous system and my sweat glands? They'd appreciate the news flash, I'm sure. — J.R. Ward

I told him your loins were clearly burning, and he should man up and make a move."
"You did not!"
"I did. And if he doesn't, then I suggest you jump his bones."
...
I finally register what he's wearing. It's a handsome skinny black suit with a shiny sheen. The pants are too short - on purpose, of course - exposing his usual pointy shoes and a pair of blue socks that match my dress exactly.
And I totally want to jump him. — Stephanie Perkins

This collar has a lot of meanings. Some Doms will use it for a training collar. That's not necessarily what I want you to wear it for. I want you to wear it because I own this collar and the beautiful kitten wearing it. It shows you are taken, that you are my property, and you are off limits. It also represents that I'm off the market."

"Depending on the Dom and sub, it could also be used in the place of an engagement ring or a wedding ring. — B.S.M. Stoneking

A game: say something. Close your eyes and say something. Anything, a number, a name. Like this (she closes her eyes): Two, two what? Two women. What do they look like? Wearing black. Where are they? In a park ... And then, what are they doing? Try it, it's so easy, why don't you want to play? You know, that's how I talk to myself when I'm alone, I tell myself all kinds of stories. And not only silly stories: actually, I live this way altogether. — Andre Breton

I talk to my fan club members, and I blog, and they know what's going on. But as far as Twitter, I'll be in a restaurant, and I'll get home, and somebody tweeted, and they talked about what I ordered and what I was wearing. In some cases, that could be dangerous, because you don't want everybody to know where you are every second of every day. — Carrie Underwood

I think that it's hard for vain people to be funny. I think you can look any way you want as long as you have a good sense of humor about yourself. People who are concerned with their looks and what they're wearing and how they present themselves tend to have less of a sense of humor about themselves. — Taran Killam

What is your objection to the clothes?" Sebastian asked, glancing at the gowns. "They're black, aren't they?"
"Well, yes, but they're not made of crepe."
"Do you want to wear crepe?"
"Of course not - no one does. But if people saw me wearing anything else, there would be terrible gossip."
One of Sebastian's brows arched. "Evie," he said dryly, "you eloped against your family's wishes, you married a notorious rake, and you're living in a gaming club. How much more damned gossip do you think you could cause? — Lisa Kleypas

What exactly do you think we're trying to do here?" Deep demanded. "You think we want to fuck you?"
His rough words made Kat's stomach clench. "I sure as hell hope not for your sake," she said evenly. "You try it and I'll knee both of you so hard you'll be wearing your balls for bowties."
"Bravely spoken, little Kat." Deep had the nerve to sound amused. "But that isn't what this is about at all. We just need to heal you. — Evangeline Anderson

I scanned through another section finding yet another thing I wasn't about to let happen.
"You want to pick my clothes? What the hell is wrong with my clothes?"
His eyes took in my sleeveless top and sank lower as if he was sneering with disdain at my jeans. They were jeans for monkey butt's sake!
"I have a certain reputation Synthia. I won't have it smeared with being shadowed by a child who wears the clothes of an immature teenager."
"I'm wearing jeans, half the country wears them! — Amelia Hutchins

I just want to let you know that when I look into my future, I see nothing but you." That's what Chaz had whispered in my ear at some point during the wedding last night.
Then he'd whispered. "And you're not even wearing Spanx. — Meg Cabot

Your people back in Pennsylvania - what are they like?" Caleb finished his work and turned to face Lily, his arms folded. Because the barn was shadowy and he was wearing that blasted campaign hat of his she could barely see his face. "Decent, hardworking, ordinary enough." "Rich?" Lily inquired. "Yes, you could say that." Lily sighed. Marrying the major might eliminate her current dilemma, but once the back-east Hallidays got a good look at her the snobbery would begin all over again. Caleb's family would wonder what had possessed their long-lost son to choose an orphan with a questionable reputation for his wife. He curved a finger under her chin and lifted it. "They'd take to you immediately, sodbuster," he said. "It's me they've got no use for." "And if they didn't?" "They would. Now let's get back to the fort - that is, unless you want to stop at the church and get married first." Lily thought for a moment, then shook her head. Caleb — Linda Lael Miller

We underestimate teenagers at our peril. Even the dismissive thing out on the street
look at what they're wearing. Then we'll hear stories about how a toddler fell on the tracks, and it's often a teenager who comes to the rescue and walks away because he or she doesn't want any credit. I recognize it because I've written books for teenagers
it's basically that they feel things more than adults do. They want things more than you think. They want things with greater depth than you think they do. Teenagers have got a lot of soul that adults have forgotten they have within themselves. — Markus Zusak

It asked readers, "Hot pink dress-is it a do or a don't?" Now here's my question about this poll: who cares? If you want to wear a pink dress, wear a pink dress. It doesn't matter what other people think. One hundred percent of the people polled could say a pink dress is a "do" and guess what? I still ain't wearing one. — Ellen DeGeneres

We could sit around and talk if you'd like."
"Okay." She crossed her arms and tried to look casual. "So what's up?"
"Considering what you're wearing beneath that sheet, and what we just heard in the hallway, you might want to rephrase that particular statement. — Jill Shalvis

I used to go out wearing any old rubbish, no make-up, nothing, but since mobile phones, that has all had to stop. People do come up to you so often and say hello, or want a photograph, and I just can't do it anymore in what I used to wear. They don't want to be seen hanging off a rabid old granny any more than I do. — Joanna Lumley

Out on the street, you never know what you're getting, and suddenly two days later you're beating yourself in the head with a tennis racket, wearing a towel, quoting Poe. You don't want that for your kid. You really don't want that. — Johnny Depp

Married people, it's up to you. It's entirely on your shoulders to keep this sinking institution afloat. It's a stately old ship, and a lot of people, like me, want to get on board. Please be psyched, and convey that psychedness to us. And always remember: so many, many people are envious of what you have. You're the star at the end of the Shakespearean play, wearing the wreath of flowers in your hair. The rest of us are just the little side characters. — Mindy Kaling

I don't care what anybody else is wearing. I feel like they're all waiting to see what I have on. If you really want to know the truth, that's what I think. They're waiting to see what I'mma do next. — Two Chainz

It's very hard to find men's clothes that do what you want, especially when you go through them as quickly as I do. I need them to be flashy, but I never like to be overdressed. I need to make a statement, but I hate wearing too many clothes. — Mika.

I ... God, I don't even know where to start. I'm here. I'm here for you, okay? No matter what. You can scream and you can yell and be as mean and self-destructive as you want. Because I know you're going to be here for me when it's my turn to fall apart. Let them all come, Clint. Let every last one of those tracksuit-wearing sub-verbal bullying murderous scumbags come at us. Because you and me? Together? Together, Clint, I think you and me are the person we both wish we could be. And I know that person ... I know that person is worth something. I know that person can ... can pretty much do anything. — Matt Fraction

But nothing was said about chicken farming anymore. Once, long after it was too late for farming, he might catch her crying and pet her a bit. 'What's the matter, little baby? You got a fever? You want to take the night off?' She might murmur something about candling eggs, but he wouldn't be able to understand what she meant. And after a while she cried on without knowing what she meant either, as a girl cries over a bad dream long after the dream is forgotten.
In time the tears dried. She could no longer cry over anything. All the tears had been shed, all the laughs had been had; all the long spent. Leaving nothing to do but to sit stupefied, night after night, under lights made soft beside music with a beat, to rise automatically when someone wearing pants pointed a finger and said 'that one there. — Nelson Algren

Scarlet, before you go through this, I want to remind you of September 7th, 1988. It was the first time that I saw you. You were reading Less Than Zero, and you were wearing a Guns 'n' Roses t-shirt. I'd never seen anything so perfect. I remember thinking that I had to have you or I'd die... then you whispered that you loved me at the homecoming dance, and I felt so peaceful... and safe... because I knew that no matter what happened, from that day on, nothing can ever be that bad... because I had you. And then I, uh... I grew up and I lost my way. And I blamed you for my failures. And I know that you think you have to do this today... but I don't want you to. But I guess... if I love you, I should let you move on. — Mike O'Donnell

You can do better than that." He loops his arms around my waist and pulls me to him.
"Where are your gloves?"
"Better than that too." He drops a kiss on my collarbone. "Good to see you, Cass. I dreamed about you, Cass ... Feel free to improvise."
"Aren't you supposed to be wearing those work gloves? When you're working? Because otherwise your poor hands won't ... "
Gah. I sound like Mom, or the school nurse.
I'm no good at this.
Luckily, Cass is good enough for both of us. "I missed you, Gwen. It's good to see you, Gwen. I dreamed about you, Gwen. Yeah, haven't gotten around to the gloves. More important things to focus on. Want me to tell you what they are? — Huntley Fitzpatrick

I like to wear dresses and skirts when I go onstage because the attitude that I have is, 'I'm so excited to introduce myself to you.' And I want to be wearing what I'd be wearing to a date or a dinner party. — Jenny Slate

If you talk about an issue, what comes back is a description of what you're wearing. Reporters only want to know how tall you are and if your teeth are capped. — Robert Redford

I was always eh, kinda want to like consider myself kind of a pioneer of the palette, a restaurateur if you will. I've wined, dined, sipped and supped in some of the most demonstrably beamer epitomable bistros in the Los Angles metropolitan region. Yeah, I've had strange looking patty melts at Norms. I've had dangerous veal cutlets at the Copper Penny. Well what you get is a breaded salsbury steak in a shake-n-bake and topped with a provocative sauce of Velveeta and uh, half-n-half. Smothered with Campbell's tomato soup. See I have kinda of a uh ... well I order my veal cutlet, Christ it left the plate and it walked down to the end of the counter. Waitress, ? she's wearing those rhinestone glasses with the little pearl thing clipped on the sweater. My veal cutlet come down, tried to beat the shit out of my cup of coffee. Coffee just wasn't strong enough to defend itself. — Tom Waits

Girls in my profession know a little too much about men. The ones who want to know a woman as a person are fewer than you'd hope, and most of those don't even realize it about themselves. They don't care who a woman is, or what she's scared of, or who she wants to become. They think they want a woman, but what they really want is a flattering looking glass wearing lipstick and telling them what they want to hear. — Elizabeth Bear

Cassie, I want to be with you. Always. If that involves us being naked and making love in a hundred different ways, every day for the rest of our lives, that's fantastic. If it involves us sitting and talking, wearing barbed wire and cast-iron body suits, that's fantastic, too. I just want you. Now. A week from now. A year. A decade. Whenever you're ready. What I want is never going to change. It's you. Just you. Naked or clothed, doesn't matter to me. — Leisa Rayven

He smirks when he reaches my underwear. I smile when he slides a hand over the satin fabric. "It was laundry day." He removes the rest of the dress, and neither one of us moves. "I've wasted more study time than I'd like to admit wondering if you were wearing anything or not." "That's funny," I say. "I fantasized about stabbing you in the eye with your pen." His touch halts. "Wait, what?" I laugh. "You don't want to know." He — Rachel Schneider

I think I should learn to get along better with people," he explained to Miss Benson one day, when she came upon him in the corridor of the literature building and asked what he was doing wearing a fraternity pledge pin (wearing it on the chest of the new V-neck pullover in which his mother said he looked so collegiate). Miss Benson's response to his proposed scheme for self-improvement was at once so profound and so simply put that Zuckerman went around for days repeating the simple interrogative sentence to himself; like Of Times and the River, it verified something he had known in his bones all along, but in which he could not placed his faith until it had been articulated by someone of indisputable moral prestige and purity : "Why," Caroline Benson asked the seventeen-year-old boy, "should you want to learn a thing like that? — Philip Roth

Martin nodded, his head snapping up and down. He was wearing baggy gray sweatpants and no shirt. His torso was soft and undeveloped and covered with a thick growth of fine hair. He squinted against the bright morning sun. Yeah, sure. What do you want? — Robert Crais

He stopped before opening the door and faced her. "You'll leave the window open for me and you'll be naked. When I come back, I'll take what I want from you, as many times as I want to." He grinned; it was pure and raw and astonishingly beautiful. "Understand me Lady Dagmar?" She shook her head. "No. You'll have to explain it to me."
"I will. Even if I have to tie you to bed and explain it to you again and again and again." He looked over one more time. "And don't play with yourself after I'm gone. Don't want you wearing my pussy out before I've had a chance to use it." With his hand on the door, Gwenvael rewarded her with the warmest smile she'd seen from anyone. "Besides, you look so beautiful when you come, I don't want to miss a second of it. — G.A. Aiken

There are three ways you can get along with a girl: one, shut up and listen to what she has to say; two, tell her you like what she's wearing; and three, treat her to really good food ... If you do all that and still don't get the results you want, better give up. — Haruki Murakami

I would never want to model as my career, but fashion is my hobby. When you love what you're wearing, you feel good. I also love the extravagance of John Galliano for a big occasion. But I'm very bad with following trends. — Maria Valverde

My stomach flip-flopped, and I let his words play over in my head. "So, no costume?"
Tod shrugged. "Nah. Don't get me wrong - it's hot. But it's hot in an obvious kind of way. It's not really you."
I frowned. "Because I'm not obviously sexy?"
"Because you are obviously sexy. Some girls may need costumes to make guys want them, but I couldn't possibly want you more
than I do right now, no matter what you were wearing. Or not wearing."
I stared up at him. "How is it possible that every time you open your mouth, I - " fall more in love with you " - melt a little more? — Rachel Vincent

Calvin said, "Do you know that this is the first time I've seen you without your glasses?"
"I'm blind as a bat without them. I'm near-sighted, like father."
"Well, you know what, you've got dream-boat eyes," Calvin said. "Listen, you go right on wearing your glasses. I don't think I want anybody else to see what gorgeous eyes you have. — Madeleine L'Engle

He reaches into his pocket and pops a handful of jelly beans into his mouth. Logan does the same. Logan points to Sean's mouth. "Dude," he says. "That color's not great on you." I look at Sean again, and my lipstick is smudged all over his lips. I laugh. I must look a sight if he looks like that. He wipes at the corners of my lips with his thumbs. "Next time, I'll wear pink," I whisper. "I don't care what you wear," he says. His gaze is hot, and my belly flips. "I'd like to see you wearing nothing." He looks into my eyes, his expression full of longing. He presses his lips to mine briefly. "I can't get used to the fact that I can kiss you whenever I want." "Says who?" I taunt. "That's what boyfriends do, Lacey," he says, as if he needs to remind me. My stomach flutters again. I step onto my tiptoes and pull his head down to mine. I kiss him, holding onto the back of his neck, until we're both breathless, and I'm whimpering. "Yea," I agree. "That's what boyfriends do. — Tammy Falkner

They don't believe in anything either. You and your like are trying to make a war with the help of people who just aren't interested."
"They don't want communism."
"They want enough rice," I said. "They don't want to be shot at. They want one day to be much the same as another. They don't want our white skins around telling them what they want."
"If Indochina goes
"
"I know that record. Siam goes. Malaya goes. Indonesia goes. What does 'go' mean? If I believed in your God and another life, I'd bet my future harp against your golden crown that in five hundred years there may be no New York or London, but they'll be growing paddy in these fields, they'll be carrying their produce to market on long poles, wearing their pointed hats. The small boys will be sitting on the buffaloes. I like the buffaloes, they don't like our smell, the smell of Europeans. — Graham Greene

Don't let them win, Marian. Don't let them make you less than you are. Don't let them take away what means the most to you. Not the family who dismissed your strength and your skills, not the bastards who hurt you - yes, I know about them - and not Luthvian. Don't let them win. Fight for what you want with everything that's in you."
"It's not the same," Marian cried. "I'm just a hearth witch and you're - "
"I was a slave!" Lucivar shouted. "A half-breed bastard sold to one court after another, wearing that filthy Ring of Obedience to keep me submissive. But I wouldn't submit, I wouldn't break, and I fought back with every breath I took. I refused to be less than a Warlord Prince, and I made them deal with me on my terms. No matter how much pain they inflicted, I gave it back. — Anne Bishop

Do you think you are so very hard to read? Perhaps no one has ever bothered before, and this has led you to believe you are inscrutable. But no, I think not. I think it is more likely that these other people are lazy. You take a lot of studying and so they let you pass them by, even though everything you do says so much. You hide when you don't want to; you hang up when you want to complete the call. You deny the things you feel the most and admit what matters least. My little study in opposites, are you not? Heart on her sleeve, though she would say it was only the pattern of the piece of clothing she was wearing. — Charlotte Stein

You know, this is why I just don't answer the door (unless I know who's arriving). I don't want to fend off pint-sized salesfolk or tie-with-short-sleeved-shirt-wearing adults. But if you are going to answer the door in your own house, what's wrong with being armed? What makes people feel entitled to a kid-friendly greeting when they disturb random strangers in their homes? — Ann Althouse

Names are just words. I know that. But learning that the last name I'd used all my life was fake ...
"So what should I call myself, then?" I asked. "Sophie Atherton? Sophie Brannick?" Both sounded weird and made me feel like I was wearing clothes that didn't fit.
Mom smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. "You can call yourself whatever you want."
"Okay. Sophie Awesome Sparkle-Princess it is. — Rachel Hawkins

Why don't you try?"

I pull away, startled. "Me?"

"No, the other redhead wearing a dress big enough to hide a herd of cattle." He reaches for my hand and grasps a finger to pull it back, but I resist. "Come on. This is not the time to be a coward. Don't you want to see what you're capable of?"

"Well, of course I do - "

"Then try." Derrick offers me an encouraging smile. "You just breathe it out like air. It's not difficult." He waves a hand at me. "Now close your eyes."

I arch a brow and sigh. "Really?"

He glares. "If you don't close your eyes I'll change that dress so quickly you'll look like a furry citrus fruit before you can even call me a bastard. — Elizabeth May

And if we really want to stay current and relevant, we have to use social media. And by that I mean Facebook. There are one billion people on Facebook. Maybe older people should have our own social media. We can call it What Did That Doctor Do to Your Face Book? In fact, we can have our own text and Facebook abbreviations. We can have our own WTF, LOL, and LMAO. GNIB: Good news, it's benign. OMG: Oh, my gout. DMMLIMNWD: Don't make me laugh, I'm not wearing Depends. WAI: Where am I? ITIHSBCR: I think I had sex but can't remember. ILI: I like Ike. TKDC: The kids didn't call. DTLSTY: Does this look swollen to you? CTDMELOFM: Call the doctor - my erection lasted over four minutes. PAMUHNASIHSB: Put a mirror under his nose and see if he's still breathing. Bottom line: we can't be dial-up in a Wi-Fi world. — Billy Crystal

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

Democrat flaks jump on this like ducks on a June-bug, and in the process themselves reproduce the sick militarism of this culture that automatically valorizes anyone who wears a uniform. How dare you insult a soldier! Like its some sacred calling instead of an imperial employment program steeped in the culture of machismo and misogyny.(And you can gasp as theatrically as you want I spent more than two decades wearing a uniform that is exactly what it is.) — Stan Goff

It was easily the happiest day of my football life and yet people still want to ask me about the suit. When they talk about the day, it's not 'didn't you do well?', it's 'what was that you were wearing?! — Paul Jewell

I almost jumped when the door opened. Alex came back inside, wearing black sweatpants; I swallowed as I saw his chest bare. "Forgot my T-shirt," he said sheepishly. His bag was on the floor near the bed, and I watched the lantern light play on his skin as he crossed to it. Squatting by the bag, he pulled out a T-shirt; I sat frozen, taking in the movement of his back and shoulders.
I stood up, my heart hammering. "Wait. Can I just ... ?" I trailed off as he turned to look at me.
"What?" he said, rising to his feet.
An embarrassed laugh escaped me. I shook my head. "Just
before you put that on, can I ... ?" In slow motion, I went over to him. I reached out toward his chest and then stopped, my fingers hesitating an inch from his skin. "Is
this all right?"
Alex stood very still, a soft smile on his face. "Anything you want is all right. — L.A. Weatherly

Well, if you weren't flirting with him"-his voice had now grown a little plaintive-"who was he, and what did you want with him anyway?"
"If you are so determined to bore me, I may just have to go home." Astrid sighed carelessly, "What a shame, when I am wearing such a pretty dress. — Anna Godbersen

Many spiritual people are involved in a radical denial of what is happening. They want to transcend it, get rid of it, get out of it, get away from it. There's nothing wrong with that feeling, but the approach doesn't work because it's escapism in spiritual clothing. It's wearing spiritual clothing and spiritual concepts, but it is really no different than a drunk in the gutter who doesn't want to feel the pain anymore. When you abide and accept everything completely and fully, you automatically go beyond. — Adyashanti

You could read the Nac Mac Feegle like a book. And it would be a big, simple book with pictures of Spot the Dog and a Big Red Ball and one or two short sentences on each page. What they were thinking turned up right there on their faces, and now they were all wearing a look that said: Crivens, I hope she disna ask us the question we dinna want tae answer ... — Terry Pratchett

My father is standing at the sink wearing a too-tight long-sleeved red T-Shirt, a pair of too-high jeans and sporting the type of orange glow that belongs only on Chernobyl victims. Plus his hair looks like an oil spill.
'Hey you,' he says, washing what looks to be some carrots under the sink. Are they carrots or are they parsnips reflecting the sheen of my father's tangerine skin? Hard to tell.
'You've fake tanned yourself again,' I say - it's a statement, not a question. 'Too much?' he says, innocently. 'I just didn't want to be one of those pasty office workers and I thought it wouldn't hurt to back up last week's application with another hit.'
'Dad, you look-'
'Sun kissed?'
'Radioactive. And what the hell happened to your hands?'
- Cat — Rebecca Sparrow

Some of the men were dressed like Peter and wore red plaid hunting jackets or bulky tan Carhartt jackets or lined flannel shirts, and all of those men were wearing jeans and work boots. Some of the men wore ski jackets and hiking boots and the sort of many-pocketed army green pants that made you want to get out of your seat and rappel. Some of the men wore wide-wale corduroy pants and duck boots and cable0knit sweaters and scarves. It was a regular United Nations of white American manhood. But all the men, no matter what they were wearing, were slouching in their chairs, with their legs so wide open that it seemed as though there must be something severely wrong with their testicles. — Brock Clarke

Why are you talking to the King Loser Dork? You want to talk about ugly? Look at what he's wearing. (Stone) I like a man who takes fashion chances. It's the mark of someone who lives by his own code. A rebel. A real lone wolf is a lot sexier than a pack animal who follows orders and can't have an opinion unless someone else gives it to him. (Nekoda) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

People shouldn't notice what you're wearing before they
notice you. You want people to register you first. 'Oh, what a nice jacket' should be an afterthought if you're doing it right. — Michael Kors

Costume is always an asset. Normal costume you have a lot to say about - if you're wearing suits or ties, and what color you want, and how it's going to be cut, and stuff like that, and whether or not you're going to wear a hat, and blah, blah, blah. But, when you're wearing a special costume, and of course, costume is probably the second ingredient in character, script being first, I always find that the costume does a lot to cement your character, to put it firmly in mind. — Morgan Freeman

But you can always justify killing animals on the grounds that you want to eat them, or wear them, or that they smell bad, look funny, bother you, threaten you, and have the bad luck of being in your way. What about killing humans? Well aside from a few die-hard individualists on the fringe, the general consensus among people these days seems to be that eating and wearing other people is just not on. Wearing a suit which costs as much as a farmer will make in his lifetime is acceptable, but actually putting his eyeballs on a string and letting them dangle above tastefully exposed cleavage is bad form. — Mohsin Hamid

They ask me what kind of perfume I wear or how I choose a signature scent or what to wear to what occasion. The truth is, I just go into the perfumery and pick out the most beautiful smell. I sniff the scent and then see with my mind's eye the vision that it brings to my heart. If I want to wear that vision with me every day until the bottle is all used-up, then that's the perfume I'll purchase. And I do use it up until there's nothing left and only then do I go out to buy another one. Another vision for another year or two. Fragrance, to me, is about wearing a perspective on your skin. The scent itself is the vehicle by which you can be reminded of those pictures that those notes have opened in your soul. — C. JoyBell C.

You're going to wear that?" Jackson lifted his chin, indicating my outfit. I glanced down at myself. Seeing nothing wrong with my blue jeans, hiking boots, and long-sleeved purple Henley with the top four buttons undone. I returned Jackson's scowl with a frown. "And what's wrong with what I'm wearing?" "Your shirt is half undone, your boobs are busting out, and those jeans are awfully tight." I crossed my arms under my chest and glared at my brother. "Are you calling me fat?" "No. I'm saying that outfit doesn't leave much to the imagination. I don't want that Winston boy getting ideas." Meanwhile, I wanted Duane to get lots of ideas. — Penny Reid

Humans, as a rule, don't like mad people unless they are good at painting, and only then once they are dead. But the definition of mad, on Earth, seems to be very unclear and inconsistent. What is perfectly sane in one era turns out to be insane in another. The earliest humans walked around naked with no problem. Certain humans, in humid rainforests mainly, still do so. So, we must conclude that madness is sometimes a question of time, and sometimes of postcode.
Basically, the key rule is, if you want to appear sane on Earth you have to be in the right place, wearing the right clothes, saying the right things, and only stepping on the right kind of grass. — Matt Haig

Some people may think that it is a dangerous attitude to take toward the Bible, to pick and choose what you want to accept and throw everything else out. My view is that everyone already picks and chooses what they want to accept in the Bible ... I have a young friend who whose evangelical parents were upset because she wanted to get a tattoo, since the Bible, after all, condemns tattoos. In the same book, Leviticus, the Bible also condemns wearing clothing made of two different kinds of fabric and eating pork ... Why insist on the biblical teaching about tattoos but not about dress shirts, pork chops, and stoning? — Bart D. Ehrman

Sophie, I have to tell your mother about what happened."
I suppressed a groan. I'd known this was coming, but I was hoping we could put it off until after Dad got back. I had a lot going on, and the last thing I wanted was a worried mom on top of all of that.
"Dad,she's just going to freak. And probably come here and get me, and then you guys will start yelling at each other, and I'll have to act out by wearing lots of eyeliner and doing drugs. Do you really want to deal with that? — Rachel Hawkins

You can definitely aid the message that you want to send to people by what scent you're wearing. — Lara Stone

Ha ha ha. But what if, right, when you come home, what if I ain't wearing nothing but Nutella?"
"Your double negatives make me want to kill you. — Richard Rider

In the distant past, in what might be described as the Golden Days of War, the business of wreaking havoc on your neighbours (these being the only people you could logistically expect to wreak havoc upon) was uncomplicated. You - the King - pointed at the next-door country and said, "I want me one of those!" Your vassals - stalwart fellows selected for heft and musculature rather than brain - said, "Yes, my liege," or sometimes, "What's in it for me?" but broadly speaking they rode off and burned, pillaged, slaughtered and hacked until either you were richer by a few hundred square miles of forest and farmland, or you were rudely arrested by heathens from the other side who wanted a word in your shell-like ear about cross-border aggression. It was a personal thing, and there was little doubt about who was responsible for kicking it off, because that person was to be found in the nicest room of a big stone house wearing a very expensive hat. — Nick Harkaway

What are you wearing?"
I looked down at my soft flannel pajamas. I'd washed them so many times the plaid pattern had faded mostly to grays and whites. "What do you want me to be wearing?"
Dan's voice shifted a little. I imagined a smile. "Nothing."
Such a small thing, that little bit of flirting, but all at once I felt as if air had rushed into my lungs, and I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. "Nothing but a smile. — Megan Hart

Georgia took once a creative-writing course, and what the instructor told her was: Too many things. Too many things going on at the same time; also too many people. Think, he told her. What is the important thing? What do you want us to pay attention to? Think.
Eventually she wrote a story that was about her grandfather killing chickens, and the instructor seemed to be pleased with it. Georgia herself thought that it was a fake. She made a long list of all the things that had been left out and handed it in as an appendix to the story. The instructor said that she expected too much, of herself and of the process, and that she was wearing him out.
The course was not a total loss, because Georgia and the instructor ended up living together. — Alice Munro

I go on Twitter and I ask my viewers, 'What would you like to see next season in my line?' or 'What are things you love to wear?' They're the ones wearing it, so I want to make sure it applies to them. — Bethany Mota

Here's what I've learned about miracles: Sometimes they turn up quick, and sometimes they take their sweet time getting to you. It's hard to tell either way because a miracle never looks exactly the way you think it should. Some miracles are big and flashy, and others are sweet and simple. Some miracles make you want to shout, and others make you want to sing.
And some miracles, the very best miracles of all, show up wearing cowboy boots. — Natalie Lloyd

Drake skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, his eyes narrow as he looked over our little group. Behind him, Pal appeared, followed by a couple of dragons I didn't recognize.

"Aisling." Drake lowered his sword and walked slowly toward us, a frown darkening his eyes. "Where have you been? And what are you wearing?"

I pinched the back of Renaldo's hand until he released his hold on my face. "To hell and back, but that's a really long story, and not one I want to go into here. This is a curtain. I'd really rather not talk about it right now,either."

"Very well. We will leave the discussion of why you are clad in drapery for another time. The challenge has started. — Katie MacAlister

My dreams were always the same I could see myself laughing . I was standing somewhere in a forest a raindrop rolled down a branch and fell on my nose . My hair was a sparkling red color and I was wearing a white flowing ball gown made from silk. I could feel him the one I loved staring at me intensely . His eyes as gold as the sun . I could hear him saying my love Fleur .. you are everything to me. His fingertips lightly shivering as he touched my face beckoning for me to come closer. I don't know what I would do if I lost you . "Are you sure you want to be with me?" My body protested as I fought for him to stay but he never did. As soon as I woke up his presence was gone. — Isabella Kruger

Good," said Gideon. "It means the effect of the alcohol is wearing off. One question, by the way: what did you want a hairbrush for?"
"I wanted it as a substitute for a mike," I murmured through my fingers. "Oh, my God! I'm so horrible."
"But you have a pretty voice," said Gideon. "Even I liked it, and I told you I hate musicals."
"Then how come you can play songs from them so well?" I put my hands in my lap and looked at him. "You were amazing! Is there anything you can't do?" Good heavens, I heard myself sounding like a groupie.
"No. Go ahead, you're welcome to think me some kind of god!" He was grinning now. "It's rather sweet of you! — Kerstin Gier