Hair Quotes - Page 21

I have no fears when it comes to my hair or clothes.

I am the man who put the hair in hair metal.

Who can map out the various forces at play in one soul? Man is a great depth, O Lord. The hairs of his head are easier by far to count than his feeling, the movements of his heart.

I am pretty sure that, if you will be quite honest, you will admit that a good rousing sneeze, one that tears open your collar and throws your hair into your eyes, is really one of life's sensational pleasures.

Strength just comes in one brand - you. Stand up at sunrise and meet what they send you and keep your hair combed

Someday you will name me, then gently place those burning holy roses in my hair.

The important thing is to pull yourself up by your own hair to turn yourself inside out and see the whole world with fresh eyes.

Behind every small business, there's a story worth knowing. All the corner shops in our towns and cities, the restaurants, cleaners, gyms, hair salons, hardware stores - these didn't come out of nowhere.

We are charmed by neatness: Let not your hair be out of order. [Lat., Munditiis capimur: non sine lege capilli.]

The youth of the present day are quite monstrous. They have absolutely no respect for dyed hair.

I was a punk rocker when I was a teenager. I wanted to look like Nancy Spungen. I had dyed blonde hair and lots of piercings.

I know at one point I had bright red hair and I had bracelets from my wrist up to my elbow and I was wearing size 50 pants. I wouldn't wear that today, but I'm not embarrassed about wearing it back then any more.

I was inspired a little while before The Voice to dye my hair half black half blonde by Cruella De Vil of 101 Dalmatians. One day I was watching it and I told my mom I was going to dye my hair like Cruella's, and she thought I was joking. I came home from the salon, and she didn't talk to me for a few days!

Short films don't go too far.

Rather than feeling lost and unimportant and meaningless, set against galaxies which go beyond the reach of the furthest telescopes, I feel that my life has meaning. Perhaps I should feel insignificant, but instead I feel a soaring in my heart that the God who could create all this — and out of nothing — can still count the hairs of my head.

I love my red hair. It makes me spunkier.

I'm a grown man. I do whatever I feel like doing with my hair. And if for some reason you feel like there's a magnet and you should have something to say to me, then more power to you. I hope you're prepared.

My real hair color is kind of a dark blonde. Now I just have mood hair.

With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek; And then thou kemb'st the tuzzes on thy cheek: Of these, my barbers take a costly care.

People think updos are so hard, but they're not. Your hair should look tousled and undone. If I'm in a mood to go out and feel hot and sexy, I want long hair that I can feel on my back. But I also like bed head. Ill usually wash my hair and let it air-dry wavy, but if I'm just in a hang-out mood, I wont even wash it. Ill wait until it smells.

It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.

Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor. Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.

Sometimes I feel like tap-dancing, screeching, unscrewing light bulbs, pulling curtains, combing hair, doing knee bends, handstands and turning somersaults out there.

I remembered... It was the colour of your hair. Farewell...Erza. ~I'm Jellal Fernandez. What about you, Erza?(I'm Erza. Just Erza.) Well, that's kind of sad. Ohh!(Hey...What are you doing?!)It's such a pretty scarlet colour...I know! We'll give you the last name of Scarlet!(Erza...Scarlet) It's the colour of you hair! Nobody will ever forget that!~(Jellal...)

I'd rather wear jewels in my hair than anywhere else. The face should have the advantage of this brilliance.