Quotes About Hair

I grew up in New Jersey in the '80s. That means one thing: Big hair. ... I had big hair, my boyfriends had big hair, we all had big hair. Our prom looked like the poodle division of the Westminster dog show.

I think that everyone wants sexy hair, and when they think of sexy hair they think of volume - they don't think about flat, limp, lifeless hair. But for some women, it's hard to achieve because we're constantly buying these volumizing shampoos [that] leave a residue in your hair.

The stockbrokers, their hair isn't long and full of leaves and stuff like that, so they don't catch your eye. They're wearing the tie-dye, so they don't stick out, but you don't see them. The ones you see are the ones with the leaves in their hair, the matted hair and all that kind of stuff.

How I grew to believe Black hair has power, genius, and magic in it, defying gravity and limitation. I mean, look at how marvelous it is: Black hair grows up and out.

The stinkiest hair products have got to be any sort of perm, and Nair. In fact, they smell remarkably similar. Do you think that Nair is just a souped-up version of a perm that makes your leg hair super-curl until it falls off? And can anything that smells that bad be good for you?

Women only cut their hair in times of crisis... It's somethin' a woman always has the power to do, even when she loses control over everything else. Cuttin' hair is a cry for help.

She looked up from closing it to find Jace watching her through hooded eyes. “And one last thing,” he said. He reached over and pulled the sparking pins out of her hair, so that it fell in warm heavy curls down her neck. The sensation of hair tickling her bare skin was unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. “Much better,” he said, and she thought this time that maybe his voice was uneven too.

And all the zig-zags and lines in my hair? I used to do that myself. I just thought it was cool that you could actually do that with your hair.

You are absolutely beautiful," Anne said. "But if you see yourself, you'll want to pin your hair back like a shepherdess in a bad play." (Eleanor) "Are you saying that I normally look as if I'm tending sheep? With straw in my hair? As if I might yodel?

Fang’s hand gently smoothed my hair off my neck. My breath froze in my chest, and every sense seemed hyperalert. His hand stroked my hair again, so softly, and then trailed across my neck and shoulder and down my back, making me shiver. I looked up. “What the heck are you doing?” “Helping you change your mind,” he whispered, and then he leaned over, tilted my chin up, and kissed me.

I practice yoga every day and when my schedule allows me to have time, I go get a massage. And I'm fond of acupuncture. I like having a clean skin and taking care of my hair. My secret is to avoid drying my hair with the hairdryer and also avoiding blow-dries when it's not necessary. In order to feel myself, I need to look the most natural as I can.

So one day, in a fit of trying to do something different, I just dyed my hair dark brown and got my first role a week later, after which I thought: 'People are closed-minded, man! Like a different hair colour changes everything!'

I like getting my ideas from the things of now. I am very conscious of the moment, of images that belong to this moment instead of another period. Fashion is really a reflection of our lives. You see women today and they don't do their hair up; they all wear their hair undone. So you have to reflect that in your photography .

I think I am at my best when my hair is short. It's easier to take care of and more of who I am. Women are conditioned to think we need long hair.

As it turns out, sometimes that bites you. In this case, I saw pictures of Earl [Mills], and...I actually met him. He was quite old at the time, but he had this sort of curly red hair, so we did that in the film. I got a perm and had red hair, and... It was a mess.

I cut my own hair. I got sick of barbers because they talk too much. And too much of their talk was about my hair coming out.

I've always been a strong believer that you were born with the hair you've got, but have the ability to get the hair you want.

To be honest with you, I literally don't even know how to style my hair unless I'm doing an event because I rely on hair stylists.

Such beautiful scarlet hair....Why don't we call you 'Erza Scarlet'? It's the color of your hair, that way, I won't forget it!" -Jellal Fernandes

My hair looks like it had been purchased at a rummage sale after all the real hair was gone.

I have been styling my own hair since I was four years old ... and I still don't let anyone else touch it to this day. I cut, color, style, and spray my own hair, on all sets and shoots, that's just the way it goes. I get way too nervous when someone else starts to mess with it.

Why is it surprising that scientists might have long hair and wear cowboy boots? In fields like neuroscience, where the events you are recording are so minute, I suspect scientists cultivate a boring, reliable image. A scientist with a reputation for flamboyance might be suspect.

I don't think men should think too much about their hair. They shouldn't think. They should just open bottles for women, hammer nails into wall and chop wood.

Is that a yes?" he asked, pushing his fingers through my hair, fanning it out around my shoulders and searching my face intently. "Please let it be yes," he said with a gravelly edge. "Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you, even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.

When you've got four people to get dressed to get out the door you don't really spend a lot of time on yourself. But that's the way I roll anyway. I was never one to do my hair and make-up just to go to the market, so it's not that much different. If I get a little eye cream on, I feel I'm ahead of myself.

Oh my god! Would you shut the front door already?! Look at you walking out here with your hair done, nails done, everything did. Whatchu think you fancy, huh? Look, uh, sweetheart, I don't speak Gucci or anything, but I'll give it my best shot.

Nobody’s going to save you. No one’s going to cut you down, cut the thorns thick around you. No one’s going to storm the castle walls nor kiss awake your birth, climb down your hair, nor mount you onto the white steed. There is no one who will feed the yearning. Face it. You will have to do, do it yourself.

I go through different phases and change my mind about my style all the time. In the winter, I wanted to wear jeans and pumps and black and leather all the time. Right now, I want to wear long skirts and belts, with my hair in a ponytail. It changes all the time!

Clearly people should meet an acceptable threshold of appropriateness! But I think that for many women in the public eye, it just seems that the burden is so heavy. We're doing a job that is not a celebrity job or an entertainment or fashion job.... In a professional setting, treat us as professionals.... And it takes a lot of time. I've often laughed with my male colleagues, like, "What did you do? You took a shower, you combed your hair, you put your clothes on. I couldn't do that."

I just kind of opened up and said, 'I feel like a rag doll. I have hair and makeup people coming to my house every day and putting me in new, uncomfortable, weird dresses and expensive shoes, and I just shut down and raise my arms up for them to get the dress on, and pout my lips when they need to put the lipstick on.'

Once a guy stood all day shaking bugs from his hair.

There are occasions that I love to be fashionable and enjoy, you know? But the work day of a mother doesn't include a hair making team or any consideration of your shoe.

My best feature is my hair.

Love is telling someone their hair extensions are showing.

What people don't get is that hair is such a big part of our identity.

I agree with you about the music of today. It lacks style and emotion. I can't relate to it either, as for grunge music, well that was the death kneel for a lot of the glam metal hair bands of the 80's, so I really do not care for grunge. I miss the 80's as well, it was a truly great decade for music.

God is dead but my hair is perfect.

What tender and devoted mother wouldn't be dismayed and ill with terror at her son's or daughter's stepping even one hair's breath off the beaten track. No, better let him be happy and live in comfort without originality, is what every mother thinks when she rocks the cradle. The only person among us who can fail to reach the general's rank is the original man - in other words, the man who won't be quiet.

Editors can be stupid at times. They just ignore that author's intention. I always try to read unabridged editions, so much is lost with cut versions of classic literature, even movies don't make sense when they are edited too much. I love the longueurs of a book even if they seem pointless because you can get a peek into the author's mind, a glimpse of their creative soul. I mean, how would people like it if editors came along and said to an artist, 'Whoops, you left just a tad too much space around that lily pad there, lets crop that a bit, shall we?'. Monet would be ripping his hair out.

Wrinkles and bones, white hair and diamonds: I can't wait.

Sean Chen has been an audience favorite from the early rounds. With his floppy hair and outstanding stage presence combined with an extraordinary technique and musicianship, this is little wonder.

You know us crazy kids. We'll do anything crazy to our hair.

I'm going to brush my hair and change my clothes if we're going out. That gives you two ten minutes to get it out of your system, so I'm not stuck with a couple of frustrated horndogs all day. But no pressure," she added on a laugh as she swung out of the room and started upstairs.

My mother was a woman. A black woman. A single mother. Raising two kids on her own. So she was dark skinned. Had short hair. Got no love from nobody except for a group called the Black Panthers. So that's why she was a Black Panther.

Every comic went through their Mitch Hedberg phase - the glasses, the hair in the face - and you knew immediately when they were doing it.

But a topee is not a turban, and I had been my teacher's pupil before I became my husband's wife, learning to my bones that half a disguise is none at all...The moment my short-cropped, pomade-sleek, unquestionably masculine hair passed beneath his nose was the closest thing I've ever seen Holmes to fainting dead away.

I waited just to see you at that kind of peace, I wanted to be beside you, I wanted you to wake up slowly or startle, or just half awaken and turn over or murmur my name. I wanted to watch you forever, or sleep beside you forever, or sleep forever while you woke and watched me, something forever anyway. I wanted to kiss you, rumple your hair, rest three fingertips on your hip bone warm and smooth, wake you that way or hush you back to sleep.

The strongest common bond between the genders is the universally acknowledged truth that both men and women are unhappy with their hair.