Quotes About Hair

I want to pull my hair back high and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel, she said. I want to have a kitty sit on my lap and purr when I stroke her.

I loved to take her hair down and she sat on the bed and kept very still, except suddenly she would dip down to kiss me while I was doing it, and I would take out the pins and lay them on the sheet and it would be loose and I would watch her while she kept very still and then take out the last two pins and it would all come down and she would drop her head and we would both be inside of it, and it was the feeling of inside a tent or behind a falls.

Brett was in bed. She had just been brushing her hair and held the brush in her hand. The room was in that disorder produced only by those who have always had servants.

turned around and looked after her. "If she did not have her hair cut so short she would be a pretty girl," he said.

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about to knock again when the inside door is pulled open to reveal a sinewy woman dressed in what appears to be layers of old sweaters and an ankle-length denim skirt. Her long hair held back in an elastic that leaves the ends bunched and brittle as the head of a broom. Brown eyes wide and alive

I liked her hair, fine and bright yellow, like corn. But I'd never been interested in people like that. I'd expected that to change as I'd gotten older, but those much-vaunted pubescent urges just never struck me the same way they seemed to hit other people.

The blade, freed by the half-turn, floated after him, shining, drawing a fan of red droplets in its wake. The streaming raven-black hair floated in the air, floated, floated, floated... The head fell onto the gravel. There are fewer and fewer monsters? And I? What am I? Who's shouting? The birds? The woman in a sheepskin jacket and blue dress? The roses from Nazair? How quiet! How empty. What emptiness. Within me.

You can't see anything sprouted out of my face, can you?" "Only your unkempt nostril hair," said Trista, wearily.

Sometimes he lays his head on my lap and lets me comb his lovely hair for him; his combings are leaves of every tree in the wood and dryly susurrate around my feet.

Her hair falls down like tears

Not many people know this about me but I'm a natural blonde. My hair went from light blonde naturally to a darker kind of blonde. My mother dyed my hair dark when I was a child as I loved the look then. So I'm basically a natural blonde.

The fair one was the prettier, round and soft, but Magnus noticed the dark one first; her black hair was streaked with luminescent blue.

occurred to her suddenly that Rachael looked very like an otter herself, with her chunky front teeth, the brown hair which would turn grey when she was still young

My hair looks awful while wet, I will say that.

I usually go to sleep with wet hair. When I wake up, it either has a really pretty wave, or I look like a poodle.

I really hate my hair when it's not braided because it's so big when it dries. When it's wet, it looks cool, but when it dries, it gets all in my mouth during a match, and I hate it.

I sometimes don't wash my hair for two weeks. That's pretty disgusting. It's short, so sometimes it's easier to just wet it.

I remember not wanting to play football because I didn't want to get my hair wet.

I always had influences musically with punk, and then growing up, I dyed my hair every color. I did the dip-dye blue, before anybody was dip-dyeing their hair. And streaks of pinks and purples and whatnot.

The majority of people scrape their less dense hair back into a bobble or a braid, whereas I actually have massive challenges getting my hair into a helmet. Going into Rio, trying to get my 'fro into a helmet was a big issue.

I'm really into laces; I always accessorize with shoe laces whether I wear them as a belt, or attached to my shorts or in my hair or as a bracelet.

Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping.

If your hair is relaxed, white people are relaxed. If your hair is nappy, they're not happy.