Quotes About Hat

All I ever wanted was to belong, to wear that hat of belonging.

All I ever wanted was to belong, to wear the hat of belonging.

Lady Mary came last. She looked magnificent, even regal. Her dress was highly fashionable; dark slate blue overlaid with black fleur-de-lis and stitched with jet beads across the throat and bosom, the sleeves garnered. A black hat adorned her head at a rakish angle, dashing and precarious.

If you ask a twenty-one-year-old poet whose poetry he likes, he might say, unblushing, Nobody's, In his youth, he has not yet understood that poets like poetry, and novelists like novels; he himself likes only the role, the thought of himself in a hat.

When John Hetherington ventured out in public wearing the first top hat, it was considered so shocking that children screamed, women fainted, and a small boy broke his arm in the chaos.

She dug her toes into the cool carpet place with a sigh of relief and hung up her hat, grateful to House for taking the edge of the sun.

The whole shadow of Man is only as big as his hat.

Ever since that evening when you gave me my hat, I've been as true to you as I've got it in me to be. Don't force me to where untruth starts. You say nothing would make you hate me. But once make me hate myself and you'd make me hate you.

Nick? Nick Hurley?" I asked, laughing. He took back his hat. "You'll be sorry to hear I don't make gross faces as much as I used to. Now I'd rather smile at girls." "I noticed" He waved his hat around as if he was trying to dry it, his green eyes sparkling at me, as full of fun and trouble as when he was in elementary school. I realxed.

I took a step back. "Here." He plunked his wet hat on my head. "Don't go anywhere," he told me, then turned away.

There are those who would find my call for the study of intersectionality as 'old hat', the recitation of a 'mantra'. I would remind them that mantras are designed for repetition precisely because each repetitive act is expected to construct new meanings.

You must remember that Baldmoney and his brothers were (as far as I know) the last gnomes left in England. Rather surprisingly, he was extraordinarily like the pictures of gnomes in fairy books, even to the pointed skin hat and long beard.

Bulstrode, after a moment's hesitation, took his hat from the floor and slowly rose

I always wore a hat. They were gonna throw me out of high school because I wouldn't take my hat off. But it was just a deep insecurity about my awful hair.

I haven't got an ad lib for people throwing bread rolls at my hat.

He can't think without his hat.

As with my hat upon my headI walk'd along the Strand,I there did meet another manWith his hat in his hand.

He wore the baseball cap

He noticed that he felt calmer now she was here, still in that grey dress with her dowdy hat, the air around her redolent with orchid oil. Perhaps all women in England had this effect. Perhaps they all smelled of flowers and exuded a calm and measured purpose. He couldn't remember.

I'm always wearing a Nebraska hat. Most of the time I'm wearing something that's got a Husker something on it. I make sure I have it on TV but I have it regularly.

I always said that when it was time to retire, I would know it, and I would just tip my hat to the crowds.

Whenever he put his fingers into it, it rattled with the trembling of his hand, and the sound was just like the sound of fire. I noticed this at the time and it seemed natural to me. I more or less assumed that the thunder and lightning were Creation tipping its hat to him as if to say, Glad to see you in the stands, Reverend, or maybe it said, Why Reverend, what in this grieving world are you doing here at a sporting event?

Peter Lake spurred the horse again, and extended his right arm like a lance, pointing it at the motionless officer. As they went by in a blur of white, he lifted the man's cap from his head, saying, "Allow me to take your hat." The enraged policeman pivoted, took out his notebook, and furiously wrote a description of the horse's buttocks.

the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear