Quotes About Hair

I go to a beauty salon and have my hair blown dry. It's cheaper by far than psychoanalysis, and much more uplifting

Once I picked up a copy of Vogue while having my hair done, and it cost me twenty thousand dollars. But you should see my teeth.

Why are you carrying me?" "Well, it didn't seem neighborly to drag you by the hair.

them. Her hair was short and fluffed and silver

That was about to change. She watched her mother pack. Susan, her rich brown hair already coiled in her signature French twist, neatly hung another suit in the organized garment bag, then checked off the printout with each day of the week's medical conference broken into subgroups. The printout included a spreadsheet listing every event, appointment, meeting and meal, scheduled with the selected

The skin along the parts in her hair, the skin above and behind the doctor's ears, is as clear and white as the skin inside her other tan lines must look. If women knew how their ears come across, the firm fleshy edge, the little dark hood at the top, all the smooth contours coiled and channeling you to the tight darkness inside, well, more women would wear their hair down.

The past lived on in her hands, the way they'd shaken when Mitzi took her first DAT into a pitch. The memory lived as pain in her scalp, the old tug of her hair. She'd such long hair back then. High school-long hair, she'd pulled it tight, knotting it into a French braid she'd pinned down. Her French braid pinned to the back of her head, pinned as cruelly as any butterfly or scarab beetle pinned to the board in freshman-year Biology of Insects.

Her hair looks gathered in a field and piled on her head to dry.

My ass is stuck. Emergency paramedics will tell you that every year about 150 people get stuck this way, sucked by a circulation pump. Get your long hair caught, or your ass, and you're going to drown. Every year, tons of people do. Most of them in Florida. People just don't talk about it. Not even French people talk about EVERYTHING.

Chewbacca is lovely and all, but he's a gargantuan pillar of hair who smells not unlike a moist gundark's undercarriage. And all that nonsensical growling? And the hugging?

Urquhart could somehow feel the glow on his skin as the hairs on his arms raised up and the thick pelt of man fur that covered his torso and back prickled as if the legs of a thousand insects were crawling on his body.

Black hair fell past his neck but just short of the shoulders. His head was protected by a stained Mexican sombrero.

On describing balding - wild emigrating hair

As a society, we need to get lots more flexible about what constitutes beauty. It isn't a particular hair color or a particular body type; it's the woman who grew the hair and lives in the body. Keeping this in mind can only make things better. (341)

She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. With stars in her eyes and veils in her hair, with cyclamen and wild violets.

Sometimes I have these fantasies of just moving to a foreign country and coming back with a full head of hair. Or not even come back! Make a new life there with hair... Change my name, just see what happens.

His old riot of black hair was now a translucent scrim of white, but his blue eyes still threw sparks.

Why not the Victorians and their sentimental grief-wreaths woven from a loved one's hair?

Louise? Oh, you would remember. She doesn't look like anyone else. Her hair is black like Myra's, but perfectly straight like an Oriental's, and she wears it in a Buster Brown.

If I allow my gaze to travel higher-which I won't-I'll see the solid gold basketball charm on a chain that my mother gave him for his eighteenth birthday nestled in his coarse, whorled chest hair. My front teeth throb as the memory of the charm bangs against them.

of hair around a slender finger.

Nobody ever seems to want my advice about serious stuff. People will be like: 'Who made that sweater?' Or 'How did you get your hair so straight?' They don't to come to me for the relationship advice or deep stuff. In fact, my little sister actually hides from me.

Husbands came and husbands went, but dreadful hair lasted forever.

Moody, gliding to a stop across the street, saw a slender girl in a long, crinkly skirt and a loose T-shirt with a message he couldn't quite read. Her hair was long and curly and hung in a thick braid down her back and gave the impression of straining to burst free.