Hair Quotes - Page 83

Don’t let haters get me off my grind. Keep my head up, I know I’ll be fine. Keep fighting until I get there. When I’m down and I feel like giving up I whip my hair back and forth.

Whipping your hair means not being afraid to be yourself.

Guy Fieri's hair is the front lawn to hell.

What Time hath scanted men in hair, he hath given them in wit.

I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool’d to hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in’t: I have supt full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me.

I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

There is far too much talk of love and grief benumbing the faculties, turning the hair gray, and destroying a man's interest in his work. Grief has made many a man look younger.

The thorn in the cushion of the editorial chair.

Your skin and hair feel good, you sleep better and you start feeling so much better about yourself when you start eating properly.

The difference between the first and second-best things in art absolutely seems to escape verbal definition -- it is a matter of a hair, a shade, an inward quiver of some kind -- yet what miles away in the point of preciousness!

Somebody's gotta stand up and say pubic hair is good, murder is bad. Sex is good, violence is bad.

A dream is not a very safe thing to be near... I know; I had one once. It's like a loaded pistol with a hair trigger: if it stays alive long enough, somebody is going to be hurt. But if it's a good dream, it's worth it.

O ay, letters - I had letters - I am persecuted with letters - I hate letters - nobody knows how to write letters; and yet one has 'em, one does not know why - they serve one to pin up one's hair.

Never shall a young man, Thrown into despair By those great honey-coloured Ramparts at your ear, Love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.

May we two stand, When we are dead, beyond the setting suns, A little from other shades apart, With mingling hair, and play upon one lute.

I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad.

I'm like a mad professor, but without the spiky hair.

The only thing that can stop hair from falling ... is the floor.

The Dictator' lands somewhere between wan Mel Brooks and good Adam Sandler, whose 'You Don't Mess With the Zohan,' about an Israeli Special Forces soldier at a hair salon, manages to strike better contrasts with vaguely similar culture differences - it's a nuttier movie, too.

Im very easy going and low maintenance when it comes to my hair.

My eyes are bright, my hair has come loose from its ribbon, and Stella's scarf is waving around my neck. But that's not what I see when I look at the picture. I see three unlikely friends holding hands. And Ryan, Kenny, and Melanie are standing behind us, rapt. And in the sky above us, I see a miracle.

Be aware of your infinite connection to your source. Know that you're more than an encapsulated collection of bones, blood and organs in a skin and hair covered body.

I've had plenty of jo-jobs. Nothing I'd call a career. Let me put it this way. I have an extensive collection of name tags and hair nets.

Possess the "Nobel Factor": Possess and constantly demonstrate optimism, faith, and hope. They create choices. I am reminded of an ancient Chinese proverb: "That the birds of worry and care fly above your head, this you cannot change; but that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent."

For deadly fear can time outgo, and blanch at once the hair.