—Hemingway
I push a good glop onto my hand. Looking into the mirror and still wondering what makes a man, I rub it on. I cover my jaw, and my scarred chin. From two strokes over a tight lip, a little gets in my nose. I wipe it over my neck, thinking also of the battle to come. I reach for the razor and know it's time again.
—Frost
Good strips of skin it is I crop, as wide for sure as the shaving blade. With every pass, the hairs I lop fall in the sink by skin's abrade. The swipes that a life of self-control spares to sweep for the common stock— today my job outrules my soul, to clean my mug's unsightly locks.
—Shakespeare
Shaving sharply by the blade of shadowed chin chagrin, the razor strains to smartly gain the glow of unscathed skin. But
lack of edging oil makes not my blooding cheek; by blunting bladed slice of skin, so stifled not, I squeak.
—King
The first slash was with too much pressure. Blood creeped slowly at first, then began to run. Hands and razor held the crimson drops, reminding me of my mortality. I continued to make passes with the shining blade, trying with torturous care not to cut myself again. But again and again, the sharp metal bit me, opening my face and spilling out my life.
—Dali
The blood became sparrows, and I exalted them. With the sky beside me in the mirror, I pushed the blade past my lips and onto my tongue. The wind created from this motion blew away the trees and the sparrows. Denying coprophagism, I wrapped my bleeding neck in toilet tissue, and began a pleasantly mundane humming.
—Picasso
Y did I shav? I lik the hare on my fase. On boath sides of it I can shav at the same time lik I hav one razer in each hand and I am shaving with both of them at wonce at the same time.
—Robbins
So I shaved myself and in a while it should stop bleeding. The wars of the planet all rest at once for a moment, as I look into the mirror and see a man beaten. The poor bastard has lost the battle with his boss and the company's goddam grooming policy. His pitiful soul falls into the chasm where shaven men, and women painted with makeup lie victim. Society has rendered them hostages for following social guidelines and obeying orders. They are slaves to the World Corporation.
—Kirchhoff
So whad-if-eye hadta shaev ime not neerly-is ugli whin-eye git thdat dirtilookin-crap offf mye fase eye git-ta-kepe mye job (gudy) thde-bozs gits offf mye bak, eye git-a payechek— r-ya startin-ta git mye-drif? C iss alll coz-efeck playe-thde gayme und git payd so-it feelz-lyk-chit Om deelin-width-it!