“The little waiter's eyebrows wandered about his forehead in confusion.”

“I met a man with no forehead and receding eyebrows. He had ketchup crusted on his eyelids. I can't remember what we talked about, I just remember him smelling like chicken feed.”

“His eyebrows drew together. He was perilously close to unibrow; I guess nobody had held him down and administered a good plucking to the caterpillar climbing across his forehead.”

“Shut the front door!” Jenna exclaimed.Andrew disappeared into the foyer, and when he returned, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “The door is shut?”

“His hands skim my bare arms. “Just bounce a little when you walk,” he says, kissing my forehead, “and pretend you’re afraid of their guns” —another kiss between my eyebrows— “and act like the shrinking violet you could never be ”—a kiss on my cheek— “and you’ll be fine.”

“Lotte watched Peter's fingers gently massaging his forehead and felt a wave of affection. The slightest stress - anxiety, embarrassment, confusion - brought his hand to his brow, like a thumb to the mouth of a child.”