Quotes About Hair

I love the Sixties with Julie Christie and Jane Birkin - those natural English beauties. That's the look that is most me, when I wore the tight-to-the knee dresses. I don't think I bleached my hair until I was 20. I like experimenting for big occasions, though. You've always got to do a bit of a number for the birthday!

Coconut oil. I rub it through my hair, all over my skin, all over my body. Natural's the better way to go.

Our hair can be a fun outlet for self expression. I love wearing cornrows and getting my hair thread-wrapped because it feels ancient and African.

I always love messing with my own hair as much as I can; I don't normally like to wear wigs.

Aside from my love of animation, as an actor I like the total lack of vanity in terms of not having to worry at all about your appearance. You don't have to deal with hair or makeup or wardrobe.

I know he is younger than me, but I absolutely love Zac Efron. His hair is always so pretty.

In British culture, redheads get teased at school. But I've grown up enough to realize I love my hair.

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 did one pageant in sixth grade, and I loved it! I loved the dresses and the big hair.

did when her hair was washed. When Mother finished she

It was an odd situation. For a century and a half, men got rid of their own hair, which was perfectly comfortable, and instead covered their heads with something foreign and uncomfortable. Very often it was actually their own hair made into a wig. People who couldn't afford wigs tried to make their hair look like a wig.

Confused and unable to help, my hair went into panic mode.

Somebody needs to explain to me why it is that the one thing your body can suddenly do well when you get old is grow hair in your nose and ears. It's like God is playing a terrible, cruel joke on you, as if he is saying, "Well, Bill, the bad news is that from now on you are going to be barely continent, lose your faculties one by one, and have sex about once every lunar eclipse, but the good news is that you can braid your nostrils.

as horripilation but more commonly as getting goose bumps. In furry mammals, it adds a useful layer of insulating air between the hair and the skin, but in humans it has absolutely no physiological benefit and merely reminds us how comparatively bald we are. Horripilation also makes mammalian hair stand up (to make animals look bigger and more ferocious), which is why we get goose bumps when we are frightened or on edge, but of course that doesn't work very well for humans either.

It is a myth, and physiological impossibility, incidentally, that hair and nails continue to grow after death. Nothing grows after death.

on your head) are tiny mites called Demodex folliculorum.

Remembering the words of Ranko, her first teacher, the toothpick jutting out from the side of his mouth, his fiery red, stalklike hair—a scarecrow whose hair caught fire, as he once described himself.

Nothing at all in there about the Time Patrol?" the President asked. "No, ma'am." "That's not good," the President said. The Keep had no opinion on that. That wasn't her job. She was a tiny woman, slender, with short black hair.

It is also true that his hair had a reddish tinge and, as everybody knows, no one with red hair can ever truly be said to be handsome. At

I had never seen hair that purely black. It was glossy and slightly long, the ends drifting over his collar. That sexy length was the crowning touch of bad boy hotness over the successful businessman, like whipped cream topping on a hot fudge brownie sundae. As my mother would say, only rogues and raiders had hair like that. (Eva about Gideon)

I had just finished polishing all the smudges off the mirror in the elevator when it began descending with me inside. In only a T-shirt and underwear. Seriously? I muttered, yanking off my rubber gloves to try to put order to my hair. After rolling around with Gideon all night, I looked like an epic mess. The doors slid open and Angus started to step in, his footstep halting midair when he spotted me.

Nie zuvor hatte ich so tiefschwarzes Haar gesehen. Dicht und glänzend reichte es ihm bis zum Kragen - eine sexy Länge, die dem erfolgreichen Geschäftsmann das Aussehen eines Bad Boy verlieh, wie Schlagsahne auf einem Schokobecher.

Thoughts that found a maze of mermaid hair Tangling in the tide's green fall Now fold their wings like bats and disappear Into the attic of the skull.

A stiff breeze lifted the hair from my head. At my feet, the city doused its lights in sleep, its buildings blackened, as if for a funeral.