Quotes About Hair

I'm more of a short-hair girl; short hair is a lot more low-maintenance than long hair. And when you're in front of camera every day and your hair is being flatironed and blow-dried it's easier to have a weave so you don't damage your own hair.

You say that if we hadn't just gotten married, you would want to marry Miss Arkansas. Even if she can't spell. She can sit on her hair. A lover could climb that hair like a gym rope. It's fairy-tale hair, Rapunzel hair. We saw her practicing for the pageant in the hotel ballroom with two wild pigs, her hair braided into two lassoes.

To remove product buildup from your hair, mix a tablespoon of vinegar in your hand with your favorite shampoo and rub through your hair. Concentrate on applying from the ends up and leave in for three to five minutes for beautifully clean hair with amazing shine!

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.

This is sad. I just think it’s a little ridiculous we are still only looking at the surface of one another. Red hair? Blue hair? Pink? Blonde? Short? Long? Whatever. We might as well shave our heads. Hair has nothing to do with the reason we playing music. It’s a style. Something that will never last as long as the songs we play and the words we sing. Listen up ladies in bands, I’m so proud to be one of you and I don’t care if we all look exactly alike or if we are all carbon copies of each other. We have things to say and it’s up to us to get people to not just look but to LISTEN!

There speaks the passion and the rebellion that go with red hair. My second wife had red hair. She was a beautiful woman, and she loved me. Strange, is it not? I have always admired red-haired women. Your hair is very beautiful. There are other things I like about you. Your spirit, your courage; the fact that you have a mind of your own. ~Mr. Aristides

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.

People think updos are so hard, but they're not. Your hair should look tousled and undone. If I'm in a mood to go out and feel hot and sexy, I want long hair that I can feel on my back. But I also like bed head. Ill usually wash my hair and let it air-dry wavy, but if I'm just in a hang-out mood, I wont even wash it. Ill wait until it smells.

I mean, that is a mop of real hair. He has hair like a 15-year-old ... and so, I have to acknowledge I am a little envious of his hair.

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?

My hair was too big. And my head is big, and my hair is big, so my helmet gets too small. So I have to make a haircut.

Bleaching my hair for Two Moon Junction... my hair was fried and I looked like an idiot.

The overseer wouldna speak to me of Ian, but he told me other things that would curl your hair, if it wasna already curled up like sheep's wool." He glanced at me, and a half-smile lit his face, inspite of his obvious perturbation. "Judging by the state of your hair, Sassenach, I should say that it's going to rain verra soon now.

The man who knelt before her would have sprung from her needles, even down the ghostly flecks of silver in his hair. She had not known before that she wanted all these things, that she preferred dark hair and a slightly cruel expression, that she wishes for tallness, or that a man kneeling might thrill her.

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.

Go to a wig store with your girlfriends, never by yourself. You need someone to say, 'Girl that looks good!' You need someone to encourage you to try pieces on. Try to purchase a wig close to your natural hair color as possible, don't come in with brown hair and try to leave as a redhead unless you are fine with that!

In Sardinia one summer my best friend Marisa Berenson and I ironed each other's hair. We used a hot laundry iron and took turns putting our hair on the ironing board, literally ironing it. That's a recipe for straightening that may be highly successful, but is definitely not recommended.

He knew that hair couldn't feel; he kissed her hair.

That was in Crescent City, California, up near the Oregon border. I left soon after. But today I was thinking of that place, of Crescent City, and of how I was trying out a new life there with my wife, and how, in the barber's chair that morning, I had made up my mind to go. I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I closed my eyes and let the barber's fingers move through my hair, the sweetness of those fingers, the hair already starting to grow.

Women. Who made 'em? God must have been a genius. Their hair. They say that the hair is everything, you know? Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls, and just wanted to go to sleep forever?

Anyone who knew Violet well could tell she was thinking hard, because her long hair was tied up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes. Violet had a real knack for inventing and building strange devices, so her brain was often filled with images of pulleys, levers, and gears, and she never wanted to be distracted by something as trivial as her hair.

You can`t use hair spray, because hair spray is going to affect the ozone. I`m trying to figure out - okay, I`m in my room in New York City and I want to put a little spray, so that I can - all right? Right?

Hello, Halberstam," Owen says, walking by. Hello, Owen," I say, admiring the way he's styled and slicked back his hair, with a part so even and sharp it... devastates me and I make a mental note to ask him where he purchases his hair-care products, which kind of mousse he uses, my final guesses after mulling over the possibilities being Ten-X.

I think it was the first time in my life I ever felt like I looked “good”. Do you know what I mean? That nice feeling when you look in the mirror, and your hair’s right for the first time in your life? I don’t think we should base so much on weight, muscles, and a good hair day, but when it happens, it’s nice. It really is.

When I died my hair red the first time, I felt as if it was what nature intended. I have been accused of being a bit of a spitfire, so in that way, I absolutely live up to the stereotype. The red hair suits my personality. I was a terrible blonde!

My hair is not really white; it's kind of grayish, and I don't like the color. So I make it totally white with Klorane dry shampoo. That is the best thing to do because my hair is always clean.

I was always told from the hat-makers that you should have your hair up because it shows the hat more. It feels more 'done' when your hair is up.

For one work we developed a human hair felt, which involved collecting and sorting hundreds of kilos of human hair, and then blending it will a tiny percentage of black merino followed by carding and felting.

I hate tricky facial hair. If your facial hair is too spotty in places, shave. Just forget about it.

Bone by bone, hair by hair, Wild Woman comes back. Through night dreams, through events half understood and half remembered.

This is the first time in my life I've had hair this short. It's always been down to my waist. I can't hide behind my hair any more

I like having black hair. When I was really young, I wanted to be Asian - Asian hair is beautiful. I also wanted to look like the girl in George Michael's 'Father Figure' video.

You can choose, you can go one of two ways. You can be the person I probably admire more and say 'well I don't care and I'll continue not to bother to brush my hair.' Or you can be a weak-willed person like me and think 'oh I'd better get my act together. And maybe my mother was right and I do need to put my hair back and tidy myself up a bit.' So I did tidy myself up a bit. But I do often resent the amount of time that it takes to pull yourself together to go on TV, I really do. If I sound bitter, then that accurately reflects how I feel about the subject.

Ladies, just know that when you grow your hair too long, you got about two inches difference between really hot, sexy supermodel - religious fanatic. Hot Maxim cover girl everybody wants a mouth kiss - unhealthy faith in your lord. Soft, silky, shiny hair everyone wants to touch - one of 12 brides.

My worst hair experience was when I was trying to relax my hair and my grandmother did it. It went all straight and I looked like a black Bee Gee.

I'm very lucky that I have people styling my hair and teaching me how to work with it, but it wasn't always like that. Growing up, I had extremely wavy and thick hair and that can be very overwhelming - you end up with the same ponytail every day.

Personal prejudice: Hispanic and Latino women with blond hair look like hookers to me, no matter how clean or cute they are. Somehow those skin tones that look so good with dark, dark hair just don't work for me with lighter shades.

I just grew the hair on my back. Facial hair just wasn't appealing to me. I liked it on my back, though.

A woman with cut hair is a filthy spectacle, and much like a monsterit being natural and comely to women to nourish their hair, which even God and nature have given them for a covering, a token of subjection, and a natural badge to distinguish them from men.

I'm here," she said, skidding to a stop. "Can we go now?" Sebastian insisted on helping her on with the coat. "I don't think anyone's ever helped me with my coat before," Clary observed, freeing the hair that had gotten trapped under her collar. "Well, maybe waiters. Were you ever a waiter?" "No, but I was brought up by a Frenchwoman," Sebastian reminded her. "It involves an even more rigorous course of training.

I intend to stay on her like hair on soap.

[On Sting] He threw a sucker punch. There's the sucker who threw the punch. Him the the Bart Simpson hair doo.

If you take five white guys and put 'em with five black guys, and let 'em hang around together for about a month, and at the end of the month, you'll notice that the white guys are walking and talking and standing like the black guys do. You'll never see the black guys going, "Oh, golly! We won the big game today, yes sir!" But you'll see guys with red hair named Duffy going, "What's happenin'?"

Please, sit down," Sharon said with another hair toss. I made a mental note to practice doing that in a mirror the next time I saw one. it seemed a useful skill, right up there with roundhouse kicks.

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.

It was like she was MADE of cake, light and pretty and decorated on the outside-with her sweet laugh and pink streak to her hair-but it was anyone's guess what was on the inside.

She felt him tremble with the force of his need. He spoke just beneath her ear, his voice thick with tormented pleasure. "You have to leave, Sara ... because I want to hold you like this until your skin melts into mine. I want you in my bed, the smell of you on my sheets, your hair spread across my pillow. I want to take your innocence. God! I want to ruin you for anyone else.

The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grump-looking old man with a great deal of a long gray hair and a beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Harry.