One man's face bore a slight resemblance to his father's.
He was facing a man whose face, though young, bore the mold of experience.
His face bore the marks of a constant losing fight.
My father's face bore a shadow of the same look, though he went about his business more or less as usual.
As one person, they both turned, and their faces bore very similar expressions.
His face bore a smile when he laid aside the telephone.
His face bore that look of hard inscrutability she had not seen for a long time.
Her face and hands bore evidence of a battle recently fought.
The face bore the familiar cold expression, the voice came exactly as he had known it.
His face bore the heavy, sad features of a man about to do something unpleasant.