I'm really a clean-cut kid.
Guilt pins a fig-leaf; Innocence is its own adorning.
I look around me and nowhere do I see a stamp of disapproval with which nature marked a woman's candid brow.
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.
I was a shy kid but also very mischievous. Because I looked super innocent, no one could really call me out on my pranks.
Is it him?” Dad asked. “Did he get you into trouble?” “Not me,” Shane said. “I’ve just got that kind of face.
In her early days she had that beatific expression characteristic of Victorian prettiness - like a sheep painted by Raphael.
Bessie?” I looked down at the bull serpent. “But… he’s too cute. He couldn’t destroy the world.” -Percy Jackson
He looks like the good boy he's never been.
There was a serenity about him always that had the look of innocence, when, technically, the word was no longer applicable.
He looks like a choirboy and bites like a shark.
He looked like those paintings of baby angels - what do you call them, hubbubs? No cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park.
You think I'm in love, that I'm sent from above, I'm not that innocent.
