Quotes About 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.

In my work, hair denotes the flow of life prior to being freed from pain. I fill the hair with human struggles such as deep-rooted anxieties, stubborn attachment to life, obsessions, and restrictions. Appearing fluid like a live organism, the hair symbolizes longevity and patience, but when it appears coarse, the hair expresses an energetic life force and freedom.

So you say, with your shiny hair and pouty lips - and those breasts - just wait till you start dropping whelps, they'll be at your ankles one day, big as they are - not the whelps, the breasts. The whelps will be in your hair - no, not the shiny hair on your head, well, yes, that hair, but only as a manner of speech.

I really started getting my body ready when I was a freshman in high school. I had just been skating so much, and just started getting so annoyed with leg hair and arm hair, because I was falling so much when I was learning. So I would get scabs on my legs, and the hair would get caught in it. It just became a nuisance. And from that point on, I continued to shave my arms and legs and tried to stay sleek.

Oh, the ongoing love affair between hair and mouths. Hair always goes for the mouth. The mouth opens, and hair says, "I'm going in! I'm going in!" like a manic cave diver.

I remember the day I saw my hair was thinning. I don't remember caring much. I don't care. It's just hair. It never bothered me much. I was pretty young, too. And it happened and is happening very slowly. I have a feeling dead people get really mad when we complain about losing hair.

I remember so clearly, in the early days, if I had to do a piece of press, they'd phone for me and say, 'Oh, we're going to bring hair and makeup, it'll take about five hours.' And I said, 'Well, if it was Ian McEwan, would it take about five hours? Would there be hair and makeup? Cause if that's not the case, then don't bring the hair and makeup.' So, it's fascinating that they just assume: it's a young woman, she must want to be photographed for five hours. She must have nothing better to do than delight in trying on all your shoes. But it's not the case.

I cut my hair short and it basically changed everything overnight. I was about 18 when I cut my hair off - the little pixie haircut. Nobody had short hair at the time. Literally overnight everything changed. I worked with Steven Meisel within a month and a half and I booked every show. Then I got a Vogue cover - my first Vogue - and that came out a few months later.

Relaxing your hair is like being in prison. You're caged in. Your hair rules you. You didn't go running with Curt today because you don't want to sweat out this straightness. You're always battling to make your hair do what it wasn't meant to do.

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!

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.

But we live in an age, ladies and gentlemen, where we are keeping morons alive in our gene pools by putting warnings on items that should not require warnings. The hotel I am staying in has a hair dryer, on the cord of the hair dryer there is a warning and this is what it says: “Warning! Do not use in shower!” Ladies and gentlemen if you have a friend who wants to use their hair dryer in the shower, you let them.

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.

Benji usually tries to match his hair with his underwear, and you know how he had the pink hair for a while well we caught him in a pink thong one day!

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.

When I was fifteen years old, the only distinction in music my friends and I made was [that] there's music made by people with short hair and music made by people with long hair.

I was inspired by Colin Farrell in the fact that he's Irish and has freckles but with black hair. I'm a bunch of different things, Irish Polish, Native American, and French, but I wanted to tap into that Irish side and be freckle-y with black hair, so that's what I did.

When I have my Afro and walk down the street, there's no doubt that I'm black. With this [straightened] hair, if I talk about being black on air, viewers write and say, "You're black?!" I feel [straightening your hair] is giving up a sense of your identity. Let's be honest: It's an effort to look Anglo-Saxon.

My hair had been dyed blonde for Dredd. After Dredd, I was really fried because of the blonde hair dye, and so I cut it into a bob with bangs and that's how it was during Being Flynn.

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.

My parents owned a hair salon, so I learned a few tricks there. I can cut people's hair - if they let me.

At the time of Holy Communion I sometimes picture my soul under the figure of a little child of three or four years, who at play has got its hair tossed and its clothes soiled. These misfortunes have befallen me in battling with souls. But very soon the Blessed Virgin hastens to my aid: quickly, she takes off my dirty little pinafore, smoothes my hair and adorns it with a pretty ribbon or simply with a little flower... and this suffices to render me pleasing and enables me to sit at the Banquet of Angels without blushing.

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.

At home I wear my own clothes, no makeup and don't do anything exciting with my hair. I get to borrow pretty dresses for the red carpet, and have experts do my hair and makeup.

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!'

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.

Don't be afraid to be yourself just because you're not like everybody else in class. If you want to dye your hair green and that's what makes you happy, then dye your hair green, no matter what other people might say about it. Not everybody is going to like you - that's the world we live in; that's reality.

When I was a child I asked my mother what homosexuality was about and she said - and this was 100 years ago in Germany and she was very open-minded - 'It's like hair color. It's nothing. Some people are blond and some people have dark hair. It's not a subject.' This was a very healthy attitude.

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?

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.

I'd walk into the school, smell that institutional smell of the tomato soup, peanut butter, disinfectant, and boys room. Pass the lunchroom, see the familiar lunchroom lady with the white dress and net on her hair. At the end of 50 years of distinguished service the Board of Education gives her a bronze net - with her name on it. It stems from the Board of Education rule to keep her hair out of the food.

I'm just happy to be a film where for once I don't have to worry about my hair, because my managers are always complaining about my hair looking depressing in my movies. Which is true. I mean, it's true.

It's actually a character choice for a movie I've been filming in South Korea called Okja. My director had this idea of having my hair be a very vibrant red/pink/watermelon color. We haven't finished filming so I'm kind of riding the wave of the red hair right now in terms of everything else that I have to do with The Last Tycoon press and you know, regular life. I'm really loving it. It's turning into a thing for me.

Sisters are always drying their hair. Locked into rooms, alone, they pose at the mirror, shoulders bare, trying this way and that their hair, or fly importunate down the stair to answer the telephone.

I've always been intrigued by color and by interesting hair. I was one of those weird little girls doing my own hair at the age of 9. I was, like, getting weird gels and new brushes and cornrow holders. I would tweak and perm at the age of 13.

When an old and distinguished person speaks to you, listen to him carefully and with respect — but do not believe him. Never put your trust into anything but your own intellect. Your elder, no matter whether he has gray hair or has lost his hair, no matter whether he is a Nobel laureate — may be wrong. The world progresses, year by year, century by century, as the members of the younger generation find out what was wrong among the things that their elders said. So you must always be skeptical — always think for yourself.

When you're driving, the helmet squashes your hair, so you don't really have a hairstyle. When you get out, you're sweating and your hair is a mess.

I remembered... It was the colour of your hair. Farewell...Erza. ~I'm Jellal Fernandez. What about you, Erza?(I'm Erza. Just Erza.) Well, that's kind of sad. Ohh!(Hey...What are you doing?!)It's such a pretty scarlet colour...I know! We'll give you the last name of Scarlet!(Erza...Scarlet) It's the colour of you hair! Nobody will ever forget that!~(Jellal...)

I have six brothers and sisters. We all look totally different: blonde hair, curly hair, green eyes, dark eyes, dark skin, light skin. It's just how it is.

I wish he hadn't gone and cut his hair. He looks about eight years old. His ears have tripled in size. Everyone's started calling him Dumbo. Which wouldn't be so bad, except they've started calling me Mrs. Dumbo. You can't even tell he's got curly hair anymore. There's nothing left to run my fingers through. Just this weird blond AstroTurf sprouting out of his skull.

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 really committed to growing my hair out about a year and a half ago. There's always this awkward moment when you're growing your hair out and it just doesn't look all that great. But if you just power through it then you'll get a pretty good end result.

...'I thought the rule was that all monks were shaved.' 'Oh, Soto says he is bald under the hair,'said Lu Tze. 'He says the hair is a separate creature that just happens to live on him.

I was a big Guns N' Roses fan when I was seven. My friend who lived across the street had long dark curly hair and I had long blonde hair, so I'd dress up as Axl and she'd be Slash, and we'd rock out in front of the mirror singing 'Patience.'

What do you do to your hair?" "Dust, hair gel, and a little gun oil." "Ever thought of patenting the recipe?" "No.

Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?” I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.” “I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light it on fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.

What I remember most about junior homecoming was my date getting sick afterwards. That kinda sucked. Then, senior year, someone got gum in her hair when we were dancing. She had to get one of the chaperones to take her to the office and cut up her hair. I felt really bad for her, but it worked out fine