Please don't retouch my wrinkles. It took me so long to earn them.
Hard work keeps the wrinkles out of the mind and spirit.
Age imprints more wrinkles in the mind than it does on the face.
I've had Botox and all that - why not? There's no cream that gets rid of wrinkles; that's a load of rubbish in my eyes. But Botox does.
I love my grey hair and wrinkles. I love the fact that my face has more of an edge and more character than it did when I was in my twenties and thirties. No Botox for me.
I'm worried that the audience is being conditioned. That's my real fear. Because if they don't want to see wrinkles on the screen, if they actually fear looking at them, then it's only going to get worse. Those of us who don't want to shoot up and cut and sew, we're just not going be cast.
My mom is big on moisturizer and water. She always reminds me to drink a lot of water and wear sunglasses because I always forget them when I go out, even though they are one of my favorite accessories. She always reminds me about wrinkles, and always did, so it's kind of been ingrained into me.
Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.
Age should not have its face lifted, but it should rather teach the world to admire wrinkles as the etchings of experience and the firm line of character.
Jesus is coming back for a church without a spot or a wrinkle. His righteous blood covers the spots and the wrinkles of those who believe unto righteousness, allowing once sinful men to be holy.
I'm not into wrinkles.
When you're getting old, obviously you try to put on the best cream, you have massages, you try to stay beautiful, but I think wrinkles can sometimes be more beautiful than having none.
I'm very proud of my well-earned wrinkles, so show 'em.
Who would want a face that hasn't seen or lived properly, hasn't got any wrinkles that come with age, experience and laughter? Not me, anyway.
Whenever I go to New York or any European country, they say: 'Nawal, why don't you get a facelift?' I tell them, 'I am proud of my wrinkles. Every wrinkle on my face tells the story of my life. Why should I hide my age?'
My mother, at sixty, is one of those classic beauties: all neck and cheekbones, sharp lines that hide her wrinkles from a distance. She still gets whistles from construction workers from three stories up.
When grace is joined with wrinkles, it is adorable. There is an unspeakable dawn in happy old age.
I like being myself. Maybe just slimmer, with a few less wrinkles.
Wrinkles happen to human beings.
Scientists - who prefer explanations subject to laboratory tests - figure that everything we see today was as inevitable as wrinkles, once the Big Bang established physics. Stars and planets were cooked up as huge clouds of matter collapsed and coalesced.
When you battle Nancy Pelosi as much as I have, you're bound to get a few wrinkles.
My skin may have wrinkles but it's because I'm smiling so much. That might sound like some terrible American greetings card, but I feel it's immoral for me to castigate my body for getting older, when it does everything I ask of it.
I don't want my wrinkles taken away - I don't want to look like everyone else.
For me, true beauty has nothing to do with wrinkles and everything to do with the fact that my maternal grandmother raised five children just after the war and remained a fighter throughout her life. True beauty is the slick of red lipstick my paternal grandmother would put on before going to church on Sunday.
Aging gracefully is about no heavy makeup, and not too much powder because it gets into the wrinkles, and, you know, to not get turtle eyelids and to not try to look young.
I am a follower of hyaluronic acid - always in small doses, of course - to fill wrinkles and fine lines.
