Quotes about hair

Sisters are always drying their hair. Locked into rooms, alone, they pose at the mirror, shoulders bare, trying this way and that their hair, or fly importunate down the stair to answer the telephone.

Granddad offered me one hundred dollars if I would cut my mop of curly hair into a neat military style. Just before the wedding, I got a light trim. It wasn't enough for Granddad, and he didn't pay.

My only writing ritual is to shave my head bald between writing the first and second drafts of a book. If I can throw away all my hair, then I have the freedom to trash any part of the book on the next rewrite.

My wedding was at home, so I didn't really want to wear a veil in my house. Instead I wore a lot of diamond hair clips. They were brooches, actually, designed by Lorraine Schwartz.

My dad cut my hair once - I wanted a bob and he gave me a bowl cut. That was a tough few years.

My mum is really fair and has blonde hair, and my dad is not dark, either.

The waves lie on the beach Your hair on your back of angel. (Les vagues s’allongent sur la plage - Tes cheveux sur ton dos d’ange. )

You know, I change my hair color a lot, I do all sorts of different things.

I keep up with everything in terms of health, fitness, nutrition, skin care, hair, nails. Really, everything. I'm an avid reader of every women's health newsletter from every hospital in the country.

Hair color is the easiest way to change your appearance, but a bad dye job might draw more attention to you.

Every few years, I change my look for the simple reason that I get bored. If you Google Image me, you will see so many different looks: long hair, short hair, clean shaven, beard, etc.

My style is definitely schizophrenic; it does change from day to day a lot. It depends on my mood: sometimes I'll be going through a girly, childlike stage and wear a pretty lace dress with a bow in my hair. Then sometimes I'll be moody and just wear black.

I love to have my hair down I love to have my hair full... there's something romantic about it.

In mainstream romantic comedies, I'm usually tearing my hair out. It's just a devastatingly difficult genre for me.

I'd like to be the romantic lead one day, but I've got to grow my hair first.

I'm not the girl that sits at home on a Saturday night plaiting her girlfriend's hair, drinking tea and watching romantic comedies.

If you want to wear long hair or wear that dress, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anybody else, I say do it. If you want to go out and have a romantic, sexy affair, do it.

When I was writing pretty poor poetry, this girl with midnight black hair told me to go on.

I'm a very outgoing person. I'm always happy, I'm one of those people who are always smiling. If somebody described me to somebody else, they'd say the kid with the curly hair with the big smile on his face. I get along with everybody.

I've never wanted anybody to like me because I had long hair or short hair, or that they liked the way I dressed or they liked the way I dressed or they liked the way I smile.

Red carpets seem so glamorous, but you're really just standing there sweating and worrying your hair is going to fall. And in the end, people are only going to see one picture of you. You just smile for one second and then you walk over to the side and check your phone. It's pretty weird.

We're teaching our kids that attributes as vague and relatively meaningless as a toothy smile or a fine head of hair make a fine statement about a person.

We all have times when we go home at night and pull out our hair and feel misunderstood and lonely and like we're falling. I think the brain is such that there is always going to be something missing.

'Grandmother' doesn't mean that you have gray hair and you retire and stay home cooking cakes for your grandchildren.

You know when you're young and you see a play in high school, and the guys all have gray in their hair and they're trying to be old men and they have no idea what that's like? It's just that stupid the other way around.

Many years ago, I concluded that a few hair shirts were part of the mental wardrobe of every man. The president differs from other men in that he has a more extensive wardrobe.

What's with you men? Would hair stop growing on your chest if you asked directions somewhere?

Man, Grandma, what big hair you have.""The better to style with, my dear.

Heat in her birds of prey fingertips, smoke of gilded flowers in her aureate gorging hair.

Like some winter animal the moon licks the salt of your hand,Yet still your hair foams violet as a lilac treeFrom which a small wood-owl calls.

French girls still have the Jane Birkin culture. You can go just like that, without makeup, without managing your hair.

People always ask me how long it takes to do my hair. I don’t know, I’m never there.

There are three reasons why men of genius have long hair. One is, that they forget it is growing. The second is, that they like it. The third is, that it comes cheaper; they wear it long for the same reason they wear their hats long.

... on the lawn one late summer day, her pale hair tangled because she'd cry if anyone tried to brush it, spinning around and around until she got so dizzy she fell in a pile of bare feet and dandelions and sundress.

I love redheads. It’s not the hair color, it’s the crazy.

Don't panic. Say, Hey, no problem. Run a hand through your hair like the whiteboys do even though the only thing that runs easily through your hair is Africa.

Our hair points to the sky, the place we'd rather be....

Some boys feel they are like girls,They are gentle, and like their hair in curls.

It doesn't have to be dreads. You can wear an Afro, or braids like you used to. There's a lot you can do with natural hair

Relaxing your hair is like being in prison. You're caged in. Your hair rules you. You didn't go running with Curt today because you don't want to sweat out this straightness. You're always battling to make your hair do what it wasn't meant to do.

He blew himself up.”“Get out! You mean like guts all over the place?”“Not all over the place,” I said. “He was pretty well contained, all things considered.

I forced myself to breathe deeply; perhaps they would have vanished. Perhaps I'd been imagining them because Brae was gone and I was scared without him, and now that he was back I'd feel safe enough again that they would go away. Perhaps it was just paint or something and would have been washed out by the sea spray earlier. I breathed again, feeling much calmer and then, slowly, opened my eyes.

Buthe had the kindest face in the world, with big, dark eyes and buzzed-cutbrown hair.

Some days you live in pajamas, and your hair kind-of has that Albert Einstein look.

A girl stood before him in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed into the likeness of a strange and beautiful seabird. Her long slender bare legs were delicate as a crane's and pure save where an emerald trail of seaweed had fashioned itself as a sign upon the flesh. Her thighs, fuller and soft-hued as ivory, were bared almost to the hips, where the white fringes of her drawers were like feathering of soft white down. Her slate-blue skirts were

she's gotoceanstucked awayin her hairpoems swimunder her skin.

Elizabeth called it my mane of hair; I called it my bane of hair. However, it was far worse looking when it was short, sticking straight up or out at awkward angles; at least when it was long it almost obeyed gravity.

He sat there looking at her smiling and laughing, watching her hair fall over her eyes and she setting it back behind her ear. He turned away bowed his head down and smiled himself looking back at the sky.

...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...

...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...

I’ve seen daggers pierce the chest,Children dying in the road,Crawling things hooked and baited,Rapists bound and then castrated,Villains singed in public square.Yet none these sights did make me cringeLike when my Love cut all her hair.

She must not give herself up as hopeless, as many a plain girl does, scrape her hair back into an unsymmetrical bundle, have her clothes "cut out with a hatchet and put on with a pitchfork," ill-use her skin with coarse soaps and neglect her figure. Only a beauty may dare all this, and even the loveliest cannot afford it.

Hair on a man's chest is thought to denote strength. The gorilla is the most powerful of bipeds and has hair on every place on his body except for his chest.

Beard is like Niqab, that covers cheeks

When I ask my medical students to describe their image of a woman who elects to birth with a midwife rather than with an obstetrician, they generally describe a woman who wears long cotton skirts, braids her hair, eats only organic vegan food, does yoga, and maybe drives a VW microbus.

I guess, to tell you the truth, I've never had much of a desire to grow facial hair. I think I've managed to play quarterback just fine without a mustache.

My mom was a medical photographer, but on the side, she did a before-and-after glam photography business in the house. She would do makeup and hair - and I was her assistant.

Polynesian women are known for their long hair, glowing skin, and thick nails. And that comes from the local diet, which is mostly plant based with a little bit of fish and a lot of natural fats and oils.

I was very short. Everybody else was two years older in my class, and I had curly hair and was teacher's pet.

Writing a novel is a terrible experience, during which the hair often falls out and the teeth decay.

My worst hair experience was when I was trying to relax my hair and my grandmother did it. It went all straight and I looked like a black Bee Gee.

You know, sometimes I feel well and vital in the world, and sometimes I just feel so distressed I want to pull my hair out by the roots.

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.

When I first sat down with my oncologist the day before Thanksgiving, and she told me I would need 8 rounds of chemo, one of my first questions admittedly was: 'Will I lose my hair?' It sounds shallow, I know, but it was a very scary image to me.

Give someone who has faith in you a placebo and call it a hair growing pill, anti-nausea pill or whatever, and you will be amazed at how many respond to your therapy.

I did four movies where I gained, like, fifty pounds. I had curly hair, and I had all of this facial hair. I had put on all this weight for these movies, and I did four or five of them back-to-back. Then I cut the weight and I got fit again. I cut my beard and I took away the mustache, and people were like, 'What are you doing?'

If you look over the years, the styles have changed - the clothes, the hair, the production, the approach to the songs. The icing to the cake has changed flavors. But if you really look at the cake itself, it's really the same.

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!

I don't like to do much with my hair - which is good, because I don't know how! I just always make sure I have a great haircut.

People don't associate red hair, pale skin, and freckles with beauty.

The beauty of having short hair is that I actually can wash and style it at home!

The woman with dark hair, wide hips, and a few extra pounds has always been the essence of beauty in Morocco.

I love glamour and artificial beauty. I love the idea of artifice and dressing up and makeup and hair.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair.

I went to a girls' school, and it was awful. The combination of my teenage anger and their jealousy meant I was always getting into fights. There was a lot of pulling of hair and scratching of faces and rolling around on the floor.

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

I remember people saying: 'You look funny, your hair is so black, you have a flat nose,' but I didn't think of it being racism, and I still don't. But there was a sense of difference, of being an outsider.

The gummy bears tattoo was my idea. It's my son's favorite candy. The sketch was my other son's idea. It's a self-portrait of himself. I just showed the artist his sketch and had him tattoo it on my forearm. It looks like a stick person with big hair. It's pretty funny.

I did feel funny about being fair and having red hair and freckles. I did not like that because I grew up in a neighbourhood where no one had red hair. I felt very conspicuous but not in a nice way.

The thing that surprised me the most is just how much money women that weren't rich were paying for their hair. When you're in a beauty parlor in Harlem next to abandoned buildings and somebody's paying five grand for a weave, that's a bit much.

My favourite beauty look is definitely '70s beauty - sun kissed skin, wavy hair and defined eyes.

Thanks to capitalism, the importance placed on beauty has never been so manipulated. We are the guinea pigs force-fed ads that tell us how pathetic we are: that we will never be loved, happy or valuable unless we have the body, the face, the hair, even the personality that will apparently be ours, if only we buy their products.

I'd luv to kiss ya, but I just washed my hair.

I remember straightening my hair because I wanted to be like everybody else, and now the fact that anybody would emulate what I do? It's just funny.

It's how you look at beauty. Is it only an outward appearance with hair and makeup and a hot body, or is it something deeper than that?

I loved Belle in 'Beauty and the Beast.' I just wanted to be her. I'm a brunette, so I think I kind of cling to all those princesses that have brown hair. I just wanted to be them.

Nobody would know it to look at me, but the movies I liked as a kid were musicals - 'All That Jazz,' 'Hair,' 'Fame,' 'Annie,' all that stuff - that's where my little youthful imagination was.

I'm undaunted in my quest to amuse myself by constantly changing my hair.

Acting is all about big hair and funny props... All the great actors knew it. Olivier knew it, Brando knew it.

I recorded my hair this morning, tonight I'm watching the highlights.

I realised that if you get yourself labeled as the funny one, people don't look any further. I've used that as I've got older. It's controlling: I decide what part of my personality you're seeing. I don't want you to look at me, I really don't. I don't want you to comment on my clothes, my hair or the way I look.

I always enjoyed school, and I enjoyed being focused on learning - and I know that sounds nerdy, but there were so many wonderful elements of going to school with just girls. I wouldn't brush my hair.

I'm learning with the older that I get that some feelings are just universal and that I'm not the only one who hates their hair or their life at times.

Learning operatic roles is ongoing, and I find that I can learn on the train or subway, during a manicure, getting my hair done, and even while driving if I only look at the score at red lights.

In the morning, I usually get up between 7:40 A.M. and 7:45 A.M., and then I'll brush my teeth, do my hair, and just throw on my leotard and my clothes and go to the kitchen.

I don't care if you get up in the morning and don't wash, don't put any make-up on, don't do your hair, even, but you have to have clothes if you want to look different.

I really am super lazy and doing long hair, especially mine, is a big pain in the butt. It's filled with cowlicks and kinks and curls and frizz - and it was taking too much time in the morning.

I don't know much about my family history except that my father had straight black hair and his ancestors probably came from India.

Old age adds to the respect due to virtue, but it takes nothing from the contempt inspired by vice; it whitens only the hair.