Quotes About Blond

I was in love with a beautiful blond once. She drove me to drink. That's the one thing I'm indebted to her for.

Then comes the left jab again. A converted southpaw? It has something of the shift of locus which comes from making love to a brunette when she is wearing a blond wig.

The downside is my picture's been all over the media and now my movement is limited. So I could use some help." "Why don't you just go blond?" "I've been blond. When I go blond I look like I should be singing with the Village People.

I went to the beauty salon today and got spruced up, Grandma said. Ever since Mildred Frick called me a slut my phone hasn't stopped ringing. I got two dates for the weekend. It might not be such a good thing to have men calling you because they think you're a slut, I said. They're only going to be after one thing. I hope that's true. I don't want to find out I went blond and bought all them thongs for nothing.

Black liner looks harsh on me because I'm so blond, so I do a brown liner with a black mascara. My favorite is 'L'Oreal Voluminous' on my top and bottom lashes. For a while, I only did mascara on the upper lashes, but it makes me look too pretty.

The gentleman sitting on my left was young, very tall and blond, and had the posture of a sphinx reimagined by Albert Speer.

Janwillem van de Wetering (Holland) Outsider in Amsterdam Tumbleweed The Corpse on the Dike Death of a Hawker The Japanese Corpse The Blond Baboon The Maine Massacre The Mind-Murders The Streetbird The Rattle-Rat Hard Rain Just a Corpse at Twilight Hollow-Eyed Angel The Perfidious Parrot Amsterdam Cops: Collected Stories

The fact that Nellie wasn't any one person but rather a composite of three of the real Laura's antagonists' worst traits makes her even more terrifying, some kind of blond Frankenstein assembled from assorted bitch parts.

If she made eye contact now, she'd hear his samples, directionless and at just the right volume. Then more about DESH, and more samples. She had him here for company, though, and not for a lecture. But lectures were all there was to him, aside from his iconics, which were about being blond and fine-boned and wearing clothes more beautifully than any human ever could. He knew everything there was to know about music, and nothing else at all.

Haley was the princess of the seventh grade. Blond hair, blue eyes, blazingly bright smile. She looked like a walking toothpaste commercial.

do I look like a beautiful blond with big tits and an ass that tastes like vanilla ice cream..?

She hovered, her fine-boned face and slender form revealed in the low light of the fire. Her hair was the pale blond hue of moon glow, her eyes the soft, silvery blue of a mist-shrouded lake. Dusted pink as new blush roses, the color of her lips and cheeks gleamed against the creamy whiteness of her skin. For a second he wondered if she was a phantom brought on by too much drink, her ethereal beauty more in keeping with a faerie story than reality.

A sarcastic blond genie with a bad attitude. -Clary, pg.243-

Sand can be any shade of yellow, from peroxide blond to canary, or even with a tinge of pink. Yellow sand is tender.

Butter-blond hair threaded with gold blew around his face.

The faint hints of color in her complexion, her tawny blond hair, her extraordinary thinness, all spoke of that unearthly grace modern poets find in the medieval statues. Had she been happy, she'd have been ravishing: happiness constitutes pure poetry, for women.

He was blond, about six feet tall, muscular, and absurdly good-looking in a rugged, masculine way, as if God had taken Brad Pitt and decided to make him really handsome.

She was asleep, that blond hair swirled like butter on the pillow beneath her

Marcia would love this—sometimes people see visions of her in the churchyard. Marcia's always having visions. Usually of white Madonnas, though, with blond hair and nice blouses from M & S. . . .

the Controller, blond, fattish, and a little bald, lunching tête-à-tête with the head of the Export Department, one of the few other permanent Civil Servants in the Control. In their neat, black suits, and with their serious, aloof expressions, they contrived to bring into their incongruous surroundings an indefinable atmosphere of Whitehall.

Felicia managed to stagger to her feet, open the front door, and limp haltingly to the white limousine idling on the snowy street outside the house. Murphy went to the window to watch Felicia get into the limo and depart. Yeah, I said, deadpan. The little blond woman has two of them.

I was in love with a beautiful blond once. She drove me to drink. That's the one thing I'm indebted to her for.

OMG OMG OMG, Shane is totally crushing on the new roomie! I can't believe it. I always pictured Shane going after blond beach hotties. Who knew he liked big brains and teeny little bodies? Although, to be fair, she is cute as a button. (Why do we say that? What's so cute about a button, anyway?)

Vain of his hair, which was blond and thick, he didn't commonly wear a wig, choosing instead to bind and powder his own for formal occasions. The present occasion wasn't formal in the least. With the advent of freshwater aboard, Tom had insisted upon washing Grey's hair that morning, and it was still spread loose upon his shoulders, though it had long since dried.