Your Freckles Quotes & Sayings

I mean you ask me
not to fall in love with you
and then you go write poems
with your tongue
and draw constellations
in my freckles. — Clementine Von Radics

Your hand fits in mine
Like it's made just for me
But bear this in mind
It was meant to be
And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks
And it all makes sense to me — Zayn Malik

He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. "You are so beautiful that sometimes it hurts just to look at you. Your eyes are a thousand shades of brown and gold with hints of blue and green." He touched her cheekbones with thumbs. "Your freckles are like the girl-next-door fantasy brought to life. Your mouth is sexy and soft and when you smile, the world seems like a better place. Swear you'll never change anything. Swear it. — Susan Mallery

Wretch! I shan't allow you to take a rise out of me! I want to talk to you about Jane!"
"Who the devil is - Oh, yes, I know! One of your girls!"
"My eldest daughter, and, let me remind you, your niece, Alverstoke!"
"Unjust, Louisa, I needed no reminder!"
"I am bringing the dear child out this season,"[ ... ]
"You'll have to do something about her freckles - if she's the one I think she is," he interrupted. "Have you tried citron-water?"
"I didn't invite you to come here to discuss Jane's appearance!" she snapped.
"Well, why did you invite me?"
"To ask you to hold a ball in her honour - at Alverstoke House!" she disclosed, rushing her fence.
"To do what? — Georgette Heyer

I don't think I've ever felt anything other than lonely.
The saddest part of this was not the words, but the tone he said them with. So matter of fact; as though loneliness was the same as the colour of your hair or having too many freckles. A fact about yourself that could not be permanently altered. — Theresa Smith

Girls," their mother interjected, "you must both stop being strange - it is unattractive. And don't forget your hats. It would be absolutely the end for me if you two came down with freckles at a time like this. — Anna Godbersen

Archer?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Hey, you might be able to take away my magical powers, but the power of sarcasm was still at my disposal. "Is your last name Newport or Vanderbilt? Maybe followed by some numbers? Ooh!" I said, widening my eyes, "or maybe even Esquire!"
I'd hoped to hurt his feelings or, at the very least, make him angry, but he just kept smiling at me. "Actually, it's Archer Cross, and I'm the first one. Now what about you?" He squinted. "Let's see ... brown hair, freckles, whole girl-next-door vibe going on ... Allie? Lacie? Definitely something cutesy ending in ie."
You know those times when your mouth moves but no sound actually comes out? Yeah, that's pretty much what happened. And then, of course, my mom took that opportunity to end her conversation with Justin's parents and call out, "Sophie! Wait up."
"I knew it." Archer laughed. "See you, Sophie," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house. — Rachel Hawkins

Mother Duncan, do kisses wash off?............"Lord, na! Freckles," she cried. "At least, the anes ye get from people ye love dinna. They dinna stay on the outside. They strike in until they find the centre of your heart and make their stopping-place there, and naething can take them from ye-I doubt if even death-Na, lad, ye can be reet sure kisses dinna wash off! — Gene Stratton-Porter

Your identifier is you. I remember your eyes. Your mouth. The freckles on both cheeks that look like constellations. I know your smiles, at least three of them, and at least eight of your expressions, including the ones you only do with your eyes. If I could draw, I would draw you, and I wouldn't need to look at you to do it. Because your face is stuck in my mind. — Jennifer Niven

Tell your daughters how you love your body.
Tell them how they must love theirs.

Tell them to be proud of every bit of themselves -
from their tiger stripes to the soft flesh of their thighs,
whether there is a little of them or a lot,
whether freckles cover their face or not,
whether their curves are plentiful or slim,
whether their hair is thick, curly, straight, long or short.

Tell them how they inherited
their ancestors, souls in their smiles,
that their eyes carry countries
that breathed life into history,
that the swing of their hips
does not determine their destiny.

Tell them never to listen when bodies are critiqued.
Tell them every woman's body is beautiful
because every woman's soul is unique. — Nikita Gill

I like your freckles, the way they look like constellations against your skin. When — Ali Benjamin

Do I "really like" him? Is that the right way to put it? I've only known him for the summer technically, but "really like" doesn't seem to encompass it. If you "really like" someone, do they insist on invading your every thought? Does just saying their name make goose bumps rise on your arms? Do you contemplate how many freckles your children will have? — Leah Rae Miller

You've tugged on your bonnet strings five times in this conversation already. Why wear one, if it's so uncomfortable? Have you any reason for it, other than that it is what everyone else does?"
"I brown terribly in the sunlight. I'll develop freckles."
"Oh no,. That sounds awful." He spoke with exaggerated solicitude, but he leaned down from his horse until his nose was a bare foot from hers. "Freckles. And what do those dastardly spots portend? Are freckled people thrown in prison? Pilloried? Covered in tar and sprinkled with tiny little down feathers? — Courtney Milan

Those nights," he whispered, "when you lay beside me and finally drifted off to sleep, your face was so peaceful ... so incredibly beautiful and I had to wonder who gave you that spray of freckles across the bridge of your nose. I watched you sleep, and felt your breath blowing across my skin like the softest touch ... I wish like hell I could kill the bastard that left you so traumatized. But do you know the worst part? I often hope your dream returns just so I can feel you against me again. We have a connection, and I can't ignore it, and I don't want to. — Loni Flowers

I don't know what I like most about you," he says conversationally as he methodically begins to undo my braid. His fingers sift through my hair, gently tugging and pulling, and it feels so good that my eyelids waver. Unable to help myself, I lean into him. "Your hair, your freckles or that fucking mouth of yours. — Monica Murphy

He squints at me. "Except for the red hair and freckles, you look okay. You'll be fine and dandy sitting at the table with a napkin on your lap. — Christina Baker Kline

The sun has blessed you," Sarita used to say. "Look how he has left his kisses on your face for all to see and be jealous."
"The sun loves you more," I said, rubbing my hands over her dry arms, the color of an aged wine gourd, and she laughed.
But this is not India and we are not prized for our freckles here. The sun is not allowed to show his love. — Libba Bray

As Wessner struggled to his feet, he resembled a battlefield, for his clothing was in ribbons and his face and hands streaming blood. "I--I guess I got enough," he mumbled. "Oh, you do?" roared Freckles. "Well this ain't your say. You come on to me ground, lying about me Boss and intimatin' I'd stale from his very pockets. Now will you be standing up and taking your medicine like a man, or getting it poured down the throat of you like a baby? I ain't got enough! This is only just the beginning with me. Be looking out there!" He sprang against Wessner and sent him rolling. He attacked the unresisting figure and fought him until he lay limp and quiet and Freckles had no strength left to lift an arm. Then he arose and stepped back, gasping for breath. With his first lungful of air he shouted: "Time!" But the figure of Wessner lay motionless. — Gene Stratton-Porter

What are you doing?" I whisper, not at all surprised when he doesn't answer my question. He keeps up drawing patterns for a few minutes, nearly lulling me to sleep, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss between my shoulder blades. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto my side toward him, my back flat against his warm chest."I was connecting the dots," he says quietly. "Your freckles are like stars. They tell a story, depending on how you connect them."I smile to myself as he takes my hand, linking our fingers together. "What did they tell you?""They told me you're beautiful," he says. "And I'm a lucky son of a bitch to have you all to myself. — J.M. Darhower

As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.
"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.
" 'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now - "
"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red.
"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes - "
"I have not got spattergroit!"
"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master - "
"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. — J.K. Rowling

I've seen you up close, like this. I remember your eyes. They're the color of the sea -- just inside a coral reef and your freckles are like the stones of a volcanic island scattered along the sand. Your hair is like the sun setting over the water, shooting out orange rays in all directions — Melissa Turner Lee

Her freckles were delectable. Most fellows didn't care for freckles as a rule, thinking they were tough-looking. But Betty's were appealing. Like cake batter you could wipe off with your thumb, buttery and sweet. — Katherine Howe

What do you love more?" she teased. "My hair or my heart?" "Why give me only two choices? Don't leave out your legs, your laugh, the way you bite your lip when you're thinking, the feel of your breath on my face, the sound of your voice in the morning, the way you taste, the three freckles on your nose, the fan of your eyelashes, the caring spirit, the determined soul - so why stop at your hair and your heart? How do you expect me to choose? When what I love the most about you - is you. — Rachel Van Dyken

Somewhere in the middle of the second glass that Mad Sweeney himself began to throw both details and irrelevancies into Ibis's narrative (" ... such a girl she was, with breasts cream-colored and spackled with freckles, with the tips of them the rich reddish pink of the sunrise on a day when it'll be bucketing down before noon but glorious again by supper ... ") and then Sweeney was trying, with both hands, to explain the history of the gods in Ireland, wave after wave of them as they came in from Gaul and from Spain and from every damn place, each wave of them transforming the last gods into trolls and fairies and every damn creature until Holy Mother Church herself arrived and every god in Ireland was transformed into a fairy or a saint or a dead king without so much as a by-your-leave ... Mr. — Neil Gaiman

I don't like how you smell like honey and cotton candy. I dislike your blue eyes that I don't get lost in. I really dislike the seventeen freckles on your face [ ... ] I haven't thought about you every day since we met that one night[ ... ] In your eyes I don't see the missing pieces I've been searching for. And I know this isn't crazy ... but I thing I hate you, Andie. — Brittainy C. Cherry

People always ask if Burke and Caelum are brothers because they're both so tall, and neither Michael seems bothered by the question, but it drives me out of my mind because besides the height they look nothing alike. Burke's got blond hair and freckles. Caelum has a mass of dark pubic hair growing out of his head. Plus, how the hell could they be brothers when they have the same first name? That only works if your last one is Foreman. — Tiffanie DeBartolo

and that Eli, is how you got your freckles — Patrick DeWitt

He laughed when she wrinkled her nose at the water that dripped on it.
"Here, baby," he said softly. "Let me dry that little bit of nose real fast before it washes off my freckles."
She grinned. "Your freckles?"
"Mine. All five," he said, and just to prove he could, kissed her again. — Dinah McCall

AUGUST 25 A Special Angel By Maria Gillard Thank you for my childhood, for my laughing heart and soul for all your magic, and for being bold Thank you for being my mom's best friend and loving me no matter what state I was in Thanks for chives and roses, popcorn and TV Thanks for always letting me be me Thanks for rides to swim meets and yummy chocolate cake Thanks for being strong and true when my heart was aching Thank you for the blankets and pillow for my head Thank you for the back hill and the Westside River bed Thank you for the smell of melting butter on the stove Thank you for the nickels you gave me for the store You were a special angel sent to all of us with your disguise of freckles, kisses, hugs and guts We know you're out there somewhere and you'll stay inside our dreams We know wherever you are there's a brilliant golden beam Watch over us, dear angel, as you go on your way and we will laugh and sing and dance again someday Amen — Cathleen O'Connor

As early as second grade I remember feeling really different and isolated. I had the hugest crush on a boy, and my best friend had a crush on him, too. One day he said to me, 'I like your best friend more because she's paler and she has freckles.' And it was right then that I began to feel like, Oh wow, I'm different. — America Ferrera

Tania ... where did you get all those freckles?" he asked softly. "I know, they're so annoying. It's the sun," she replied, blushing and touching her face as if wanting to scrub off the freckles that covered the bridge of her nose and spread in sprinkles under her eyes. Please stop looking at me, she thought, afraid of his eyes and terrified of her own heart. "What about your blonde hair?" he continued, just as softly. "Is that the sun, too? — Paullina Simons

If I was gay, I'd ... I'd be mesmerized by you. I'd listen to every word that fell out of your mouth like it was diamonds made of sound waves. I'd memorize the pattern of freckles on your back and spend months taking cooking classes just to find something you'd eat. You are kind, and you are funny, and you are brave, and any man who has you needs to see all that or he just isn't worth the laces in your combat boots, you hear me — Amy Lane

I have freckles; I don't like covering up too much. I like things dewy and natural, and I think that having moisture in your skin is really beautiful and youthful - sometimes that's more important than coverage. — Banks

That red spot!" she says with alarm.
"That's a freckle!"
"It wasn't there before ... " she says as she inspects her entire arm.
"It's cute."
"It's not cute."
"Then it's mine," I say. "If you don't like it, it's mine. I'll call it Brady."
"My freckle?"
"Yes."
"You're naming my freckle after yourself?" she says. "And you think I have issues?"
"It's like a star. People buy stars in the constellation and name them after people al the time. As gifts."
"So then are you buying my freckle? Because I don't know if you can afford my freckle. My freckles don't come cheap, you know."
"I've already claimed it," I declare. "It's not up for discussion anymore. Just eat your ice cream. And don't spill any on Brady. — Caprice Crane