I looked at his intelligent forehead, furrowed with premature wrinkles, produced probably by misfortune and sorrow.

He was tall and lean with straight black hair that was oiled and combed back from a high intelligent forehead.

Thick, oily brown hair fell forward, framing a less than intelligent forehead.

You have an intelligent forehead; you look as if you'd make a fine laboratory assistant.

Even with the white turban, the high intelligent forehead was obvious.

No shadow rested on his intelligent forehead.

With his receding hairline, wire-rimmed glasses, and high, intelligent forehead, he could be anything from book publisher to counterfeiter.

So was his face square, wide between the cheekbones, underhung with massive jaws, and topped with a broad, intelligent forehead.

His face was lean and pleasant, and he had a broad, intelligent forehead.

The tall man's arched nose-broken four times in college basketball-high, intelligent forehead, and light brown eyes that seemed almost golden were a welcome sight.