Quotes About Hair

There's not one woman in America who does not care about her hair, but we give it way too much value. We deprive ourselves of things, we use it to destroy each other, we'll look at a child and judge a mother and her sense of motherhood by the way the child's hair looks. I am not going to traumatize my child about her hair. I want her to love her hair.

I used to get my hair dyed at a place called Big Hair. It cost $15. They just used straight bleach, so my hair was the color of white lined paper, and my eyebrows looked like they were done with a thick black marker.

I thought Id be edgy and dye my hair red. And I dyed my hair, like, Jessica Rabbit red. It kind of allowed me to have this whole new confidence and this whole new swagger and this whole new sense of self. It kind of brought out the inner rock star in me. I had never dyed my hair like that, and no one forgot me after that.

My family suffered. My hair turned up in every corner, every drawer, every meal. Even in the rice puddings Tessie made, covering each little bowl with wax paper before putting it away in the fridge--even into these prophylactically secure desserts my hair found its way! Jet black hairs wound themselves around bars of soap. They lay pressed like flower stems between the pages of books. They turned up in eyeglass cases, birthday cards, once--I swear--inside an egg Tessie had just cracked. The next-door neighbor's cat coughed up a hairball one day and the hair was not the cat's.

Hey, our hair's the same color," I said, eyeing us side by side in the mirror. Sure is, Girlfriend." Eric grinned at me. "But are you blond all the way down?" Don't you wish you knew?" Yes," he said simply. Well, you'll just have to wonder." I am," he said. "Blond everywhere," I could tell as much from your chest hair." He raised my arm to check my armpit. "You silly women, shaving your body hair," He said, dropping my arm.

So I'm not crazy after all! I thought it looked good myself once I cut it all off. Not one guy likes it, though. They all tell me I look like a first grader or a concentration camp survivor. What's this thing that guys have for girls with long hair? Fascists, the whole bunch of them! Why do guys all think girls with long hair are the classiest, the sweetest, the most feminine? I mean, I myself know at least two hundred and fifty unclassy girls with long hair. Really.

I really think that to a lot of people hair is everything. Bad hair takes over everything, it really does. I think if somebody has bad hair it doesn't matter what else is happening.

I do think that we have to be careful not to assume that getting a perm or wearing a blonde wig is a desire for whiteness. It may or may not be. Listen, I live in a poor black neighborhood where women wear blue hair, green hair, and all kinds of stuff. So, I simply see it as a different set of choices.

Whenever something went wrong when I was young - if I had a pimple or if my hair broke - my mom would say, 'Sister mine, I'm going to make you some soup.' And I really thought the soup would make my pimple go away or my hair stronger.

Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted--wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.

We know what hair smells like when a hot comb hits it. That's a cultural thing. We know what that smells like on Sunday mornings, usually church-related or something. In my house, it was getting ready for church and your sister was getting her hair fried.

It was at first almost as if he hadn't wanted to kiss her. His mouth was hard on hers, unyielding; then he put both arms around her and pulled her against him. His lips softened. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples still on his mouth. She wound her hands into his hair, as she'd wanted to do since the first time she'd seen him. His hair curled around her fingers, silky and fine. Her heart was hammering, and there was a rushing sound in her ears, like beating wings

George Carlin is kind of my template now because George Carlin before was straight laced regular comic and he had short hair, a tie, suit, nightclub guy. Then he said screw it, let his hair grow, just started telling what he thought was the truth. So that's what I'm trying to do.

When you have short hair, there's just a feeling of here I am. What you see is what you get. And there's a confidence that comes with wearing short hair and I like the way that makes me feel.

My problem was that I was blond. There were no heroes with blond hair. Robert Taylor and Henry Fonda, they all had dark hair. The only one I found was Van Johnson, who wasn't too cool. He was a nice, homely American boy. So I created my own image. It worked.

I can't relax here. These people have no pubic hair anywhere. We have pubic hair on the ceiling.

Hair on a man's chest is thought to denote strength. The gorilla is the most powerful of bipeds and has hair on every place on his body except for his chest.

Being veterinarians, we're not supposed to be afraid of any animals. And I'm afraid of spiders. They creep me out the way they move. They got hair and saliva. That's wrong. A bug shouldn't have hair on it.

While women may look different, as some wear suits and others wear saris, or some cover their hair while others wear their hair loose, women need to stand together because they all face the central point of discrimination, although the extremity of which may be different from Kigali to Kabul.

The idea was to have a basin inverted on his head and his hair cut to the shape of it. Skill and money were not needed. Then the idea grew that it was more convenient to leave the basin on his head. Stray thoughts were trimmed along with stray hair; brain-vines, tentacles of thought, were not encouraged to wander. Then, in the interests of human economy, the head of adaptable man became a basin of uniform shape—a basin, a crash helmet. Safe at last; no more thought-cuts.

My one main secret I did right after my pageants days, is I only wash my hair once a week. I tell everyone, 'You have to stop washing your hair so much!'

When I'm at school, I usually put my hair up. High pony, side pony, or a bun, I like my hair out of my face.

What an unreliable thing is time--when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl's hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair. .... But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.

There are stories about winter ghosts found tangled like lice in their lovers' hair. Dead people have no hair themselves, which is how they can be recognized in winter. But in summer, the living and dead may pass each other on the street, and no one knows the difference.

I started growing my hair in December '89. I was seventeen. I signed my record deal and said I ain't combing my hair no more. I don't have too.

Often hair is the way we are differentiated in this culture. To me the decision to straighten your hair is deeply political.

I'm always trying to change things - change my character, change my look, change my hair, change my facial hair, change my costumes, or implement different jackets or catchphrases. I try to keep myself fresh.

Like when I had long hair, you kind of got male attention from everything. But when you had short hair, it was a different kind of man that was attracted to you or I found coming up.

I never wash my hair the night before an event - I call it second day hair, and it holds better. Also, the day before, test run your makeup and watch it every couple of hours (see if your mascara is bleeding, or if your lip gloss runs out really quickly). Oh, and for me, shoe-wise, platforms give me the same height that I need, but they're not as taxing on my feet.

At first, I lost my confidence a little. I'm used to having my hair, but now you have this bald thing on top. Then I got into it. It was easy and free; I didn't have to wash my hair. I just took a hot towel and buffed it to make it nice and shiny.

I like hair each and every way. I like to give scalp massages - to pull and tug on it. But my favorite style is long, real hair in a dusty blonde-brown color.

He also didn't like a lock of my hair and said that he couldn't get into the moment without the hair being just right. I quietly knew that he was anxious and that the hairdo wasn't the real issue. But we all let it go and came back to the scene sometime later.

My hair is way, way long. I've hitchhiked across the country a zillion times. I've ridden in every car. I was never a hippie. It takes more than long hair.

What's so great thing about clothes is that they're artificial - you can lie, you can choose the way you look, which is not true of natural beauty. So if you're naturally beautiful, wear what you want, but that's 01% of people. Most people just aren't good looking enough to wear what they have on. They should change. They should get some slacks and a nice overcoat. Remember when the style was incredibly messy hair? That's great if you're a model. But if you're not a model, you would look better if you washed your hair, because you are not beautiful.

When I first colored my hair, my mother loved it. I got kicked out of school when I was 15, just for my hair.

I had the most expensive haircut you can get, and I was walking around with my hair in rollers backstage, and my hair still came out looking like I was shot out of a cannon and I had just gotten out of bed.

Mr Witwould: "Pray, madam, do you pin up your hair with all your letters? I find I must keep copies." Mrs Millamant: "Only with those in verse.... I never pin up my hair with prose."

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.

Whether or not cutting my hair was the right decision, it empowered me. But now I have no hair to wash men out of when I go through a breakup, so I'm going to have to get a new tattoo or something when that happens.

As much as we stereotype the women, we do it with the guys. The guys are all good looking, not too many ugly superheroes. They’ve all got their hair gelled back. They have got perfect pecs on them. They have no hair on their chest. I mean, they are Ryan Gosling on steroids. Right? They are all beautiful. So we actually stereotype and do it to both sexes. We just happen to show a little more skin when we get to the ladies.

With the first kid, you micromanage it, making sure there's no hair out of place when it goes off to school. But by the third kid, it's more like, "Oh, you want to wear a splatter-painted, Hard Rock Café T-shirt for seven days in a row and not brush your hair? Go for it. Be who you want to be."

Hair is about when you're younger. I am my hair.

I used to break a lot of clubs. I probably was a little different than your average junior player. I did have a lot longer hair and a lot more brown hair. But my demeanor, you know, really from maybe my second, third year on Tour, has gotten a lot more even keel.

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.

We’re never gonna understand women. They’re way too complex. You’ve got too many variables to consider. PMS, bad hair days, miscellaneous mood swings . . . there’s no way to tell what’s causing their attitude. - Mike

I intend to stay on her like hair on soap.

When I'm bored or tired of being blonde, I'll throw on a wig. It's a lot less of a permanent way to change your look, and I have about 10 - all different colors, shapes, bobs, long hair, short, feathered.

Cinderella!" Dov cried. "Let down your hair!