#sweater

I was in Florida with Burt Stern, the photographer who shot Marilyn Monroe on the beach with a sweater, and we smoked a joint. The bathing suit kept coming off in the water, and I just ripped it off. I was very comfortable being naked. ↗

— Rosanna Arquette

#bathing suit #beach #being #burt #comfortable

I love fall because I love the whole cuddling aspect of it, and a sweater dress has that vibe of I'm going to hunker down and be warm, but it's also very feminine. ↗

— Jessica Chastain

#aspect #because #down #dress #fall

You're looking for players whose name on the front of the sweater is more important than the one on the back. I look for these players to play hard, to play smart and to represent their country. ↗

— Herb Brooks

#country #front #hard #i #important

First I made a dress because I was pregnant and I wanted to be the most beautiful pregnant woman. Then I made a sweater because I wanted to have one that wasn't like anyone else's. ↗

— Sonia Rykiel

#beautiful #because #dress #else #first

No, I'm happy doing this. Five sweaters and a pair of dirty pants, you can make pretty good money. ↗

— McLean Stevenson

#doing #five #good #happy #i

I always wear my sweater back-to-front; it is so much more flattering. ↗

— Diana Vreeland

#flattering #i #i always #more #much

Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ↗

— Ambrose Bierce

#child #chilly #feeling #garment #mother

Lots of people say we should fly less, heat less, and put on a sweater. But it's not going to happen. People are happy to say that for other people, but not themselves. ↗

— Bjorn Lomborg

#going #happen #happy #heat #less

I suffer from peroxide phobia. Every time I've gotten near a blond woman, something of mine has disappeared. Jobs, boyfriends... one time an angora sweater leaped right off my body. ↗

— Rita Rudner

#body #disappeared #every #every time #gotten

Wait." Walter went to the basket, taking what was a gray sleeve, drawing it out fro the middle of the heap. "Oh," He said. He held the shapeless wool sweater to his chest. Joyce had knit for months the year Daniel died, and here was the result, her handiwork, the garment that would fit a giant. It was nothing more than twelve skeins of yarn and thousands of loops, but it had the power to bring back in a flash the green-tiled walls of the hospital, the sound of an ambulance trying to cut through city traffic in the distance, the breathing of the dying boy, his father staring at the ceiling, the full greasy bucket of fried chicken on he bed table. "I'll take this one," Walter said, balling up the sweater as best he could, stuffing it into a shopping bag that was half full of the books he was taking home, that he was borrowing. "Oh, honey," Joyce said. "You don't want that old scrap." "You made it. I remember your making it." Keep it light, he said to himself, that's a boy. "There's a use for it. Don't you think so, Aunt Jeannie? No offense, Mom, but I could invade the Huns with it or strap the sleeves to my car tires in a blizzard, for traction, or protect our nation with it out in space, a shield against nuclear attack." Jeannie tittered in her usual way in spite of herself. "You always did have that sense of humor," she said as she went upstairs. When she was out of range, Joyce went to Walter's bag and retrieved the sweater. She laid it on the card table, the long arms hanging down, and she fingered the stitches. "Will you look at the mass of it," she exclaimed. "I don't even recall making it." ""'Memory -- that strange deceiver,'" Walter quoted. ↗

— Jane Hamilton

#knitting #memory #sweater #home