Quotes About Hair

I don't have any beauty shop memories. I remember the barber shop.

Faeries like to tangle children's hair when they're sleeping.

"The Rachel" was high maintenance. I'd curse ... every time I had to blowdry. It took three brushes--it was like doing surgery!

I actually will always stop and watch [Friends episodes], not for the whole thing, but usually because I've forgotten a lot of the episodes. It's sort of fun for a second, I'm like, what's this one? And sometimes it comes back to me. I always know what year it was by what length my hair was or what color.

Your cat just got cat hair on me." "It's only fair," Min said. "Your suit just got expensive suit lint on him.

He looked over at me. "Indigo," he said. "Cyan". He glanced at the road in front of him, glanced at me. He reached over and ran his fingers down one of the darkest strands in the back, where I'd used a little purple. "Violet.

Libby's hair was dyed again--not one color, but dozens. I thought about what she'd said about her ninth birthday. About the cupcakes my mom had baked for her, and the rainbow colors she'd clipped into her hair, and I wondered how much of her life Libby had spent trying to get that one perfect moment back.

There's no rush of having survived, only emptiness, and lungs that need air, and wet hair sticking to my face.

The sun was catching his hair and lighting him up from the outside, and love was lighting him up from the inside.

Do I feel I should be punished? Yes. Why else would I have given myself bangs?

His features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung on his shoulders; and his eyes, too, were like a ghostly Catherine's, with all their beauty annihilated.

Artemis had once seen Holly get into a fistfight with another elf who said her hair looked pretty, because she thought he was being sarcastic, as she was sporting a fresh crew cut on that particular day. Holly didn't go on many dates. Holly

Mulch's beard hairs curled in apprehension. And as his grandmother always said, Trust the hair, Mulch, trust the hair.

And every animal is better or worse from his own merit (virtue) or his own badness. Is there then no virtue in man only? and must we look to the hair, and our clothes and to our ancestors?

My black hair, which used to glisten like wet violets on an ebony altar, is now a steely gray

The high-waisted bodice had been cut quite low, much lower than anything she had ever worn before, and she had to resist the temptation to keep yanking it upward. Unfortunately, no one had been able to do much with her hair. It formed a very unfashionable, slightly frizzy halo around her head.

Unfortunately, no one had been able to do much with her hair. It formed a very unfashionable, slightly frizzy halo around her head.

Her hair is troublesome and curly ... It falls in long, black strands, but each strand has a gentle, complicated undulation travelling through it, like a mild electric shock or a thrill, hat gives it a life of its own; it is visually analogous to a tremolo on a musical note.

Dubbed a miracle ingredient, apple cider vinegar does not only help with weight loss, but it is also believed to be great for your skin, hair, overall health and even your household.

My hair curls like a yeti's pubes in this humidity—I'm starting to figure out why product was invented!

Nina stood there, in all her former beauty queen pageant glory, tall and slim and panther-like. Nina's dark hair always seemed to capture whatever available light there was, and her skin, much to Ellie's annoyance, was flawless. Today she was wearing a black wraparound dress that accentuated every curve and parted in just the right place to show off the best part of her legs.

She's so pretty, isn't she? Beautiful, really. That prefect skin, those long legs. And that hair! It's so black. Black as a raven's feather, that's what my mother used to say. Do you know, Ellie, what a group of ravens is called? [...] It's called an Unkindness. Isn't that strange? An Unkindness. Well... it's something to think about.

they used merkins on shoots to avoid X ratings; prosthetic hair was an R, but real hair was an X.

His face wore a strange look of peacefulness; in the temple was a little hole, barely visible; blood and mire fouled the pretty hair a mother had kissed with such transports of fondness.