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Quotes / Butter Face

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"My first glance round me, as the man opened the door, disclosed a well-furnished breakfast-table, standing in the middle of a long room, with many windows in it. I looked from the table to the window farthest from me, and saw a lady standing at it, with her back turned towards me. The instant my eyes rested on her, I was struck by the rare beauty of her form, and by the unaffected grace of her attitude. Her figure was tall, yet not too tall; comely and well-developed, yet not fat; her head set on her shoulders with an easy, pliant firmness; her waist, perfection in the eyes of a man, for it occupied its natural place, it filled out its natural circle, it was visibly and delightfully undeformed by stays. She had not heard my entrance into the room; and I allowed myself the luxury of admiring her for a few moments, before I moved one of the chairs near me, as the least embarrassing means of attracting her attention. She turned towards me immediately. The easy elegance of every movement of her limbs and body as soon as she began to advance from the far end of the room, set me in a flutter of expectation to see her face clearly. She left the window—and I said to myself, The lady is dark. She moved forward a few steps—and I said to myself, The lady is young. She approached nearer—and I said to myself (with a sense of surprise which words fail me to express), The lady is ugly!
Never was the old conventional maxim, that Nature cannot err, more flatly contradicted—never was the fair promise of a lovely figure more strangely and startlingly belied by the face and head that crowned it. The lady's complexion was almost swarthy, and the dark down on her upper lip was almost a moustache. She had a large, firm, masculine mouth and jaw; prominent, piercing, resolute brown eyes; and thick, coal-black hair, growing unusually low down on her forehead. Her expression—bright, frank, and intelligent—appeared, while she was silent, to be altogether wanting in those feminine attractions of gentleness and pliability, without which the beauty of the handsomest woman alive is beauty incomplete. To see such a face as this set on shoulders that a sculptor would have longed to model—to be charmed by the modest graces of action through which the symmetrical limbs betrayed their beauty when they moved, and then to be almost repelled by the masculine form and masculine look of the features in which the perfectly shaped figure ended—was to feel a sensation oddly akin to the helpless discomfort familiar to us all in sleep, when we recognise yet cannot reconcile the anomalies and contradictions of a dream."
Water Hartright, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

When you see a honey by the strobelight,
Black, I hope you got good sight!
For honey that you see, like a Shakespeare soliloquy,
May or may not be, all that
In fact, quite wack!
With a grill that makes you stop tracks
But neither here nor there fear
Unless, of course you don't care...
—>Black Sheep, Strobelight Honey

For her part, Anne's observations of the approaching witchfinder were best summed up by the phrase manfully ugly. Despite being of average height, he carried himself as if he were ten feet tall, helped along by his dark broad-brimmed hat and dramatically billowing cape. He was not excessively muscled, yet she could tell what lay underneath the jacket and trousers was taut and strong. What's more, everything about him, from his stride to his eyes, shouted at a single-minded determination and confidence.
If only it hadn't been for the face. The pox had long ago left its mark — or rather, marks — on Erasmus Martin.
An Unattractive Vampire by Jim McDoniel

She was like a magnet; attractive from the back, repulsive from the front.
From a creative writing piece submitted by an anonymous young hopeful

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