Lipstick And Eyeliner Quotes

live your eyeliner, breathe your lipstick, and kill for each other -Lady Gaga via twitter

This woman is Pocahontas. She is Athena and Hera. Lying in this messy, unmade bed, eyes closed, this is Juliet Capulet. Blanche DuBois. Scarlett O'Hara. With ministrations of lipstick and eyeliner I give birth to Ophelia. To Marie Antoinette. Over the next trip of the larger hand around the face of the bedside clock, I give form to Lucrezia Borgia. Taking shape at my fingertips, my touches of foundation and blush, here is Jocasta. Lying here, Lady Windermere. Opening her eyes, Cleopatra. Given flesh, a smile, swinging her sculpted legs off one side of the bed, this is Helen of Troy. Yawning and stretching, here is every beautiful woman across history.

Failed relationships can be described as so much wasted makeup. Forget the laughs, forget the fights, forget the sex, forget the jealousy. But take off your hat and observe a moment's silence for the legions of unknown tubes of foundation, mascara, eyeliner, blusher and lipstick who died that it might all have been possible. But who died in vain.

I want to tell her to wipe off the lipstick and eyeliner, to stay in that safe childhood space for a while longer.

Goddamnit I've never been the "pretty friend..." She's the one who wears the perfect eyeliner, it never gathers like a crowd in her tear ducts to create a grapefruit-size ebony eye booger. The one who can wear a bodysuit, sit down in it, and not have rolls of fat cascading over her belt. The one who can eat a sandwich or hamburger and not wind up with lipstick on the bun or on her chin. The one who can actually eat in front of other people and not have food, like coleslaw, hanging from her lip or shooting out of her mouth, landing on the plates of other diners. She never spits when she talks. She sleeps with her mouth shut and never drools. She doesn't pick at her face. And she never, ever has to take a shit.

She's got a man's nightshirt on and stockings with holes in them. Somebody else's tie, a gold and green chevroned number, hangs around her neck and just at this moment it looks like a king's mantle draped over her shoulders. Her hair's all loose, her lipstick and eyeliner gone a-roving. She's got a cigar in one hand and a jar full of gin in the other, and she's laughing, laughing like for once that damned chicken crossed the road for something really good.

For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

I've nothing against eye make-up and lipstick. But the fact is we're actually living on a planet in space. For me that's an extraordinary thought. It's mind-boggling just to think about the existence of space at all. But there are girls who can't see the universe for eye-liner. And there are probably boys whose eyes are never raised above the horizon because of football. There can be quite a chasm between a small make-up mirror and a proper mirror telescope! I think it's what they call a 'matter of perspective'. Perhaps it could also be called an 'eye-opener' as well. It's never too late to experience an eye-opener. But many people live their entire lives without realizing that they're floating through empty space. There's too much going on down here. It's hard enough thinking about your looks. We belong on this earth. I'm not trying to dispute it. We're part of nature's life on this planet. Monkeys and reptiles have shown us how we breed, and I have no quarrel with that. In different natural surroundings everything might have been very different, but here we are. And I repeat: I'm not denying it. I just don't think that prevent us from trying to see a little beyond the ends of our noses.

When Amy returned to London she told me excitedly about some of the Hispanic women she’d seen in Miami, and how she wanted to blend their look – thick eyebrows, heavy eye-liner, bright red lipstick – with her passion for the sixties ‘beehive’.

And despite the eyeliner, and the lipstick that defines her lips, she has a face now that a passerby's gaze will engage and then bounce from, as it would a street sign or a mailbox number. ...this is what aging is...

Welcome to Lorelei's." A saleslady glided up to us. She had white foundation pancaked skin, and went heavy on the eyeliner and red lipstick. She wore a corset that barely contained...I'm gonna say it...her swelling bosom. If she had to sneeze, I was covering my eyes because even a slight cough could pop one of those suckers free.

She's wearing a ton of makeup but underneath you can see she's still a child, her face round and soft, her eyes wide. I want to tell her to wipe off the lipstick and eyeliner, to stay in that safe childhood space for a while longer.

She used a lot of makeup—thick, dark eyeliner, false eyelashes, colored eye shadow and bright lipstick. It was as though she were trying to hide her beauty.

Expertly smudging on eyeliner and a bright slash of scarlet lipstick, Isabella studied her reflection and decided she would do.

She looks a little naked without makeup. People always talk about how wearing makeup isn’t natural, how “real” women look better, but that’s bullshit. Marcelina is perfectly lovely with or without makeup, but the “real” Marcelina likes wearing a ton of eyeliner and dark lipstick and sometimes does really incredible things with eyeshadow that I don’t fully understand. She and Maryam spend hours experimenting on each other’s faces, turning each other into mermaids and vampires and starlets. She’s good at makeup and she loves it and if that’s not “real,” I don’t want real.

There's Joy, peering at me with plum lipstick and crushed onyx eyeliner, luxe goth. Just standing Just standing there in that dress. Not just standing. Joy is ____. A) Shimmering B) Coruscating C) Scintillating D) Effervescing E) Freaking Gorgeous

never let a man ruin your lipstick, eyeliner or mascara unless he is kissing or throat-fucking you.

sábado, 2 de mayo de 2015 23:41:14 tall, muscular, and dark. He had an olive complexion and dark, almost-black hair, and he oozed power and sex appeal. ========== Mis recortes - Tu subrayado en la posición 57-60 | Añadido el sábado, 2 de mayo de 2015 23:41:33 Long, light brown hair, light brown eyes, slender-ish body—definitely not skinny. I’d never be skinny; I enjoyed sweet goods too much. My skirt and top looked plain and boring. Though, ultimately, I was happy with my reflection. My makeup had held up well. My eyes looked big and bright, thanks to the mascara and eyeliner, and my red lipstick was killer. I looked pretty, if not gorgeous. And I was fine with that. I wasn’t really one who liked to be the center of attention. Not normally. ========== Mis recortes - Tu subrayado en la posición 54-55 | Añadido el sábado, 2 de mayo de 2015 23:41:46 his hazel eyes—an ever-changing mingling of green, gray, and brown—were resting on her face with faint amusement, as if she was making a fool

One Night with her Boss (Adams, Noelle) - Tu subrayado en la posición 1206-1208 | Añadido el viernes, 24 de abril de 2015 8:37:48 his hazel eyes—an ever-changing mingling of green, gray, and brown—were resting on her face with faint amusement, as if she was making a fool of herself. ========== Finding My Prince Charming (J. S. Cooper) - Tu subrayado en la página 8 | posición 112-115 | Añadido el viernes, 24 de abril de 2015 17:41:34 Long, light brown hair, light brown eyes, slender-ish body—definitely not skinny. I’d never be skinny; I enjoyed sweet goods too much. My skirt and top looked plain and boring. Though, ultimately, I was happy with my reflection. My makeup had held up well. My eyes looked big and bright, thanks to the mascara and eyeliner, and my red lipstick was killer. I looked pretty, if not gorgeous. And I was fine with that. I wasn’t really one who liked to be the center of attention. Not normally. ========== Finding My Prince Charming (J. S. Cooper) - Tu subrayado en la página 14 | posición 213-213 | Añadido el viernes, 24 de abril de 2015 17:54:22

Long, light brown hair, light brown eyes, slender-ish body—definitely not skinny. I’d never be skinny; I enjoyed sweet goods too much. My skirt and top looked plain and boring. Though, ultimately, I was happy with my reflection. My makeup had held up well. My eyes looked big and bright, thanks to the mascara and eyeliner, and my red lipstick was killer. I looked pretty, if not gorgeous. And I was fine with that. I wasn’t really one who liked to be the center of attention. Not normally.

I did," Ace says. "I think Ms. Manning will be pleased to know that her daughter suffered before she died.” Corina steps out from behind him. My expression goes slack with shock. She's cleaned her face, removed all evidence of her earlier crocodile tears—if what my memory is telling me is true. She's redressed in a black pencil skirt and heels that flash red on the bottoms as she makes her way towards me. Her makeup is perfectly applied once more—black eyeliner and red lipstick to match the rest of her. Her hair has been pulled back into a high ponytail, and I suddenly have the urge to do to her what I did to Kate. No. I have the urge to do far worse than simply make her piss herself as I chop off her hair. I’d rather take a blade to her motherfucking throat and let her drown in her own blood.

on the day of the wedding: Maintain her bouquet. Hold it for her when it needs holding. Keep track of it when she sets it down. Have Kleenex at the ready, an emery board, dental floss, Band-Aids, tampons, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. Know the schedule. Make sure she always has a glass of champagne. Make sure she eats! I didn’t get a single bite of food at my reception at the Quilted Giraffe, something I’ve always regretted. Accompany her to the ladies’ room. Tell her she’s beautiful when she smiles.

Who am I if I’m not wearing dark lipstick and black eyeliner, falsies and bullshit? Who the actual motherfucking fuck am I?

I don't need to do a quick self-assessment to know that I read as super-duper straight. And, let's be real, a basic bitch. My hair is long past my shoulders, styled and sleek and very conventional. She's seen me in two dresses (and on the news, a million more dresses). My makeup is fairly heavy, not caked on, but I'm used to applying TV layers. I wear a lot of eyeliner. I have a variety of liquid matte lipsticks and berry lip glosses. I talk like a valley girl and drive a Honda Civic (at least it's not a white Jetta).