His great-grandmother was sitting by a huge open fireplace where logs and peat were burning. The room smelled of woods and wood-smoke. He forgot about her being frighteningly old. She had short silver curls and her face had so many wrinkles it looked as if someone had been trying to draw her for a very long time and every line put in had made the face more like her.
-L. M. Boston, The Children of Green Knowe, 11.
1 comment:
I don't have any wrinkles yet...but I hope that I'll have the grinning/laughing kind when I get older. And I hope they'll make my face more like me.
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