Mannequin Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
in-the-daytime-shes-like-a-mannequin
if-i-were-mannequin-id-know-people-would-only-want-me-for-my-body-but-thats-ok-because-thats-how-it-is-now-jarod-kintz
people-think-me-as-mannequin-all-show-no-substance-brooke-shields
i-can-tell-how-lonely-i-am-by-how-easily-im-fooled-by-mannequin-in-store-demetri-martin
i-have-body-like-mannequin-i-must-because-instead-women-trying-to-get-me-naked-they-only-want-to-see-me-with-clothes-on-jarod-kintz
her-dancing-inspires-me-to-move-i-used-to-be-like-statue-now-i-am-more-like-mannequin-so-much-more-fashionable-you-know-jarod-kintz
i-make-love-like-mannequin-mimicking-statue-only-with-less-movement-more-grunting-jarod-kintz
using-mannequin-some-rope-could-you-ride-two-bicycles-at-once-next-time-try-three-bikes-then-truly-love-someone-because-thats-even-harder-jarod-kintz
i-want-to-merge-running-marathon-doing-handstand-into-one-action-it-will-look-similar-to-how-id-make-love-to-mannequin-jarod-kintz
only-in-paris-do-couture-workers-from-seamstress-to-mannequin-worship-dress-treat-it-like-baby-pierre-balmain
sure-id-fake-my-own-death-but-only-if-i-had-following-items-duct-tape-seven-slinkies-parachute-mannequin-that-looked-like-me-jarod-kintz
what-i-did-i-cant-undo-but-i-can-address-it-undress-you-this-is-chorus-in-new-song-im-writing-called-mannequin-love-jarod-kintz
mannequin-parts-disassembled-discombobulated-coming-together-for-good-causeto-sell-some-clothes-thats-what-charity-is-all-about-jarod-kintz
her-coming-alone-made-me-want-to-mannequin-all-over-myself-but-i-managed-to-contain-myself-like-microwave-dinner-sometimes-love-is-frozen-until-you-get-off-your-sofa-to-take-acti
i-had-deliberate-plan-to-get-into-movies-by-becoming-model-i-went-to-new-york-got-job-pretending-to-be-mannequin-in-store-windows-geena-davis
the-night-before-im-murdered-said-voice-over-in-my-head-will-be-at-noon-id-better-write-mail-all-my-love-letters-in-my-mannequin-handwriting-jarod-kintz
a-mannequin-an-unfeeling-heartless-bitch-who-feeds-on-others-misery-is-physically-incapable-crying-unless-its-tears-blood-alexandra-bracken
beth-we-steve-i-know-you-can-dave-im-lover-not-were-closed-until-further-notice-kind-mannequin-your-donkey-is-my-motorcycle-desire-jarod-kintz
i-like-doing-editorial-stuff-because-its-nice-to-do-something-thats-more-me-but-modeling-for-brands-things-to-make-money-i-guess-i-dont-really-like-being-mannequin-its-strange-co
the-issue-lets-pick-it-up-in-am-the-mannequin-lets-pick-it-up-now-dance-like-our-stiff-moves-are-cool-by-design-jarod-kintz
holding-hands-with-your-lover-is-special-especially-when-that-hand-is-plastic-that-lover-is-mannequin-jarod-kintz
when-people-get-placed-upon-pedestal-when-they-start-chasing-after-that-person-on-pedestal-they-become-mannequin-like
i-had-dream-about-you-i-was-ventriloquist-trying-to-share-your-fashion-secrets-but-you-wouldnt-talk-so-we-put-on-strip-show-for-department-store-sale-i-was-arrested-for-theft-i-t
i-love-how-sincere-she-is-she-makes-mannequin-look-like-mother-theresa-though-she-looks-better-naked-and-i-hope-she-thinks-i-look-better-naked-than-dead-woman-jarod-kintz
ive-had-ongoing-fantasy-about-being-interviewed-on-like-60-minutes-type-show-about-this-really-inspiring-woman-that-can-do-anything-with-fake-leg-and-then-camera-pans-out-im-just
the-love-my-life-has-made-me-happiest-man-ever-this-eversmiling-manmannequin-is-happy-because-hes-got-no-brain-in-this-way-is-identical-to-anyone-who-still-rahrahs-for-either-rep
but-what-if-i-dont-believe-in-god-its-like-theyve-sat-me-in-front-mannequin-said-fall-in-love-with-him-you-cant-will-feeling-what-jack-says-issues-from-some-still-true-place-that
excised-and-anatomised-deviscerated-disarray-the-torso-diverged-with-pride-deftly-amputated-evulsed-limbs-now-defunct-the-trunk-imbrued-tatty-stumps-the-berzerker
I had a bizarre rapport with this mirror and spent a lot of time gazing into the glass to see who was there. Sometimes it looked like me. At other times, I could see someone similar but different in the reflection. A few times, I caught the switch in mid-stare, my expression re-forming like melting rubber, the creases and features of my face softening or hardening until the mutation was complete. Jekyll to Hyde, or Hyde to Jekyll. I felt my inner core change at the same time. I would feel more confident or less confident; mature or childlike; freezing cold or sticky hot, a state that would drive Mum mad as I escaped to the bathroom where I would remain for two hours scrubbing my skin until it was raw. The change was triggered by different emotions: on hearing a particular piece of music; the sight of my father, the smell of his brand of aftershave. I would pick up a book with the certainty that I had not read it before and hear the words as I read them like an echo inside my head. Like Alice in the Lewis Carroll story, I slipped into the depths of the looking glass and couldn't be sure if it was me standing there or an impostor, a lookalike. I felt fully awake most of the time, but sometimes while I was awake it felt as if I were dreaming. In this dream state I didn't feel like me, the real me. I felt numb. My fingers prickled. My eyes in the mirror's reflection were glazed like the eyes of a mannequin in a shop window, my colour, my shape, but without light or focus. These changes were described by Dr Purvis as mood swings and by Mother as floods, but I knew better. All teenagers are moody when it suits them. My Switches could take place when I was alone, transforming me from a bright sixteen-year-old doing her homework into a sobbing child curled on the bed staring at the wall. The weeping fit would pass and I would drag myself back to the mirror expecting to see a child version of myself. 'Who are you?' I'd ask. I could hear the words; it sounded like me but it wasn't me. I'd watch my lips moving and say it again, 'Who are you?

Alice Jamieson
i-had-bizarre-rapport-with-this-mirror-spent-lot-time-gazing-into-glass-to-see-who-was-there-sometimes-it-looked-like-me-at-other-times-i-could-see-someone-similar-but-different-
March 1898 What a strange dream I had last night! I wandered in the warm streets of a port, in the low quarter of some Barcelona or Marseille. The streets were noisome, with their freshly-heaped piles of ordure outside the doors, in the blue shadows of their high roofs. They all led down towards the sea. The gold-spangled sea, seeming as if it had been polished by the sun, could be seen at the end of each thoroughfare, bristling with yard-arms and luminous masts. The implacable blue of the sky shone brilliantly overhead as I wandered through the long, cool and sombre corridors in the emptiness of a deserted district: a quarter which might almost have been dead, abruptly abandoned by seamen and foreigners. I was alone, subjected to the stares of prostitutes seated at their windows or in the doorways, whose eyes seemed to ransack my very soul. They did not speak to me. Leaning on the sides of tall bay-windows or huddled in doorways, they were silent. Their breasts and arms were bare, bizarrely made up in pink, their eyebrows were darkened, they wore their hair in corkscrew-curls, decorated with paper flowers and metal birds. And they were all exactly alike! They might have been huge marionettes, or tall mannequin dolls left behind in panic - for I divined that some plague, some frightful epidemic brought from the Orient by sailors, had swept through the town and emptied it of its inhabitants. I was alone with these simulacra of love, abandoned by the men on the doorsteps of the brothels. I had already been wandering for hours without being able to find a way out of that miserable quarter, obsessed by the fixed and varnished eyes of all those automata, when I was seized by the sudden thought that all these girls were dead, plague-stricken and putrefied by cholera where they stood, in the solitude, beneath their carmine plaster masks... and my entrails were liquefied by cold. In spite of that harrowing chill, I was drawn closer to a motionless girl. I saw that she was indeed wearing a mask... and the girl in the next doorway was also masked... and all of them were horribly alike under their identical crude colouring... I was alone with the masks, with the masked corpses, worse than the masks... when, all of a sudden, I perceived that beneath the false faces of plaster and cardboard, the eyes of these dead women were alive. Their vitreous eyes were looking at me... I woke up with a cry, for in that moment I had recognised all the women. They all had the eyes of Kranile and Willie, of Willie the mime and Kranile the dancer. Every one of the dead women had Kranile's left eye and Willie's right eye... so that every one of them appeared to be squinting. Am I to be haunted by masks now?

Jean Lorrain
march-1898-what-strange-dream-i-had-last-night-i-wandered-in-warm-streets-port-in-low-quarter-some-barcelona-marseille-the-streets-were-noisome-with-their-freshlyheaped-piles-ord
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