Hair Quotes - Page 56

You can`t use hair spray, because hair spray is going to affect the ozone. I`m trying to figure out - okay, I`m in my room in New York City and I want to put a little spray, so that I can - all right? Right?

When I write, I tend to twist my hair. Something for my small mind to do, I guess.

The actor in me would always like to be more dashing, or slimmer, or have nicer hair.

... And the boy whose hair remained the color of lemons forever.

Anyway, that's how it is! Either they obey the law, or they're expelled!! And make sure they wear their veils correctly..." - "If hair is as stimulating as you say, then you need to shave your moustache!" My father actually said that.

To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing - the world will be made whole. For to wish for a hand on one's hair is all but to feel it. So whatever we may lose, very craving gives it back to us again.

I do not think I reinvent myself. Wearing my hair differently or changing my style of dress is playing dress-up. I don't take it too seriously.

Living in London, the water is really harsh, and my hair got so bad as soon as I moved there. But you can't really avoid that.

Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you tonight in my … chiffon evening gown, my face softly made up, my fair hair gently waved, the Iron Lady of the Western world. Me? A Cold War warrior? … Well, yes — if that is how they wish to interpret my defense of values of freedoms fundamental to our way of life.

When women let their hair down, it means either sexiness or craziness or death, the three by Victorian times having become virtually synonymous.

With the red hair, you get the white skin; it's a package deal. The cons are that you never look particularly attractive on the beach. The pros are in a softly lit room, you look pretty.

Great CEOs are not just born with shiny hair and a tie.

I reassured my mother that it didn’t matter to me if my face was not symmetrical. Me, who had always cared about my appearance, how my hair looked! But when you see death, things change. “It doesn’t matter if I can’t smile or blink properly,” I told her. “I’m still me, Malala. The important thing is God has given me my life.

That's true. Chairman Meow deserves my every effort.

I don't have much choice these days in how I have my hair.

Never say you are too old. You do not say it now, perhaps; but by and by, when the hair grows gray and the eyes grow dim and the young despair comes to curse the old age, you will say, "It is too late for me." Never too late! Never too old! How old are you--thirty, fifty, eighty? What is that in immortality? We are but children.

A creative force that either creates itself or arises from nothing, and which is a causa sui (its own cause), exactly resembles Baron Munchhausen, who drew himself out of the bog by taking hold of his own hair.

I wasn't making it with the violin because I was playing all of the 'long hair' stuff.

I would wear flamboyant clothes and long hair, and most singers at the time didn't.

To be honest," I halfwhispered, "I don't feel as safe with him as I do with you." "I know." A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "How do you know?" "Think about what safety is, Ella." "Trust?" "Yes, partly. But also an absence of risk." He unstuck a strand of hair from my damp cheek and tucked it back. "Maybe you need to take a risk. Maybe you need to be with someone who rattles you a little.

God, I love you," he said, and laid his head on her belly, his arms locked around her hips. Madelyn slid her fingers into his hair. "It took you long enough," she said gently. "What I lack in quickness, I make up in staying power." "Meaning?" "That I'll still be telling you that fifty years from now." He paused and turned his head to kiss her stomach.

Sure, I like my short hair. It also quadrupled my rate. I did get sick of seeing it on everybody, though - every stewardess, every salesclerk, and in every restaurant.

If beauty is truth, why don't women go to the library to have their hair done?

I don't think I'd ever want to direct. I don't think I have as much discipline to direct as I would like to have, and I don't want my hair color to not go grey during that process.

He knew that hair couldn't feel; he kissed her hair.