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Hair Quotes

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Hair Quotes

“You will find yourself among people. There is no help for this nor should you want it otherwise. The passages where no one waits are dark and hard to navigate. The wet walls touch your shoulders on each side. When the trees were there I cared that they were there. And now they are gone, does it matter? The passages where no one waits go on and give no promise of an end. You will find yourself among people, Faces, clothing, teeth and hair and words, and many words When there was life, I said that life was wrong. What do I say now? You understand?”

PeopleWantGivingShouldDoeSaidEndsMatterHardHelpingFacesWaitingSidesDarkGoneTreeHairWallGoes OnPromiseShouldersTeethFinding YourselfPassagesClothingsWetNavigateDoes It Matter
Book:The Portable Paul and Jane Bowles
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“He looked at my lips. I suddenly found myself wanting to lick his. 'Yes,' he replied, his eyes going molten. My breath caught in my throat as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair where it had flown across my cheek. 'I believe we do have unfinished business.' 'Good.' I gulped, suddenly one big mass of tingling body parts that wanted an immediate introduction to all of his body parts. I tried to slam down a mental barrier between his mind and mine, but it did no good. The cheerleaders in my groin were setting up fundraising car washes to finance a field trip to his groin.”

MindBelieveBodyBigsEyeWantedFoundI BelieveCarFieldsMinesHairMassBreathsLipsCaughtSettingFinanceSettingsHis EyesBarriersThroatCheeksIntroductionUnfinishedSlamStrandsCheerleaderFundraisingUnfinished BusinessField TripCar Wash
Author:Katie MacAlister
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“Dad, you played rounders with me, even though you hated it and wished I'd take up cricket. You learned how to keep a stamp collecion because I wanted to know. For hours you sat in hospitals and never, not once, complained. You brushed my hair like a mother should. You gave up work for me, friends for me, four years of your life for me. You never moaned. Hardly ever. You let me have Adam. You let me have my list. I was outrageous. Wanting, wanting so much. And you never said, 'That's enough. Stop now.”

KnowsShouldYearsSaidEnoughWantedMotherHoursFourHairDadLet MeListsHatedSatHospitalsAdamFour YearsCricketStampsGave UpOutrageousLike A Mother
Book:Before I Die
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“It's like the smell of burned toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It doesn't matter anymore. You open the window, but only the very top layer of the smell goes away. The rest remains around you. It's the walls. You leave the room, but it's on your clothes. You change your clothes, but it's in your hair. It's on the thin skin on the tops of your hand. And in the morning, it's still there.”

MadeStillsMatterHandsRoomsMorningHairWallClothesWindowSkinsRemainsFaultsSmellEnjoyedLayersBurnedToasts
Author:Elliot Perlman
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“When I was a little girl I used to read fairy tales. In fairy tales you meet Prince Charming and he's everything you ever wanted. In fairy tales the bad guy is very easy to spot. The bad guy is always wearing a black cape so you always know who he is. Then you grow up and you realize that Prince Charming is not as easy to find as you thought. You realize the bad guy is not wearing a black cape and he's not easy to spot; he's really funny, and he makes you laugh, and he has perfect hair.”

KnowsLittlesWantedUsedGuyGirlGrowsEasyBlackRealizingPerfectLaughingGrowing UpHairTalesSpotsFairyFairy TaleCharmingBad GuysCapesMake You Laugh
Author:Taylor Swift
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“People left a lot of things behind when they went in the water. Their clothes, their stuff, their makeup, their fixed-up hair, their voices, their hearing, their sight--at least as they normally experienced them....Some people lost their individuality in the water, but Riley always felt most herself. Water was supposed to symbolize renewal, she knew, but when Riley swam, pared down, alone, and unreachable--she felt a deeper sense of who she already was.”

PeopleLostLeftFeltStuffVoiceWaterBehindsHairClothesSightIndividualityDeeperHearingFixedMakeupRenewalUnreachable
Author:Ann Brashares
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“Every woman should have a daughter to tell her stories to. Otherwise, the lessons learned are as useless as spare buttons from a discarded shirt. And all that is left is a fading name and the shape of a nose or the color of hair. The men who write the history books will tell you the stories of battles and conquests. But the women will tell you the stories of people's hearts.”

PeopleMenShouldWritingHeartBookStoriesNamesLeftColorHairLessonsBattleShapesDaughterShould HaveUselessNosesShirtsButtonsSparesConquestFadingDiscardedHistory BooksLesson Learned
Book:The Lost Hours
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“A writer always wears glasses and never combs his hair. Half the time he feels angry about everything and the other half depressed. He spends most of his life in bars, arguing with other dishevelled, bespectacled writers. He says very 'deep' things. He always has amazing ideas for the plot of his next novel, and hates the one he has just published.”

FeelsIdeasHateNextHalfNovelHairAngryGlassesArguingBarsPlotOther HalfVery DeepCombsDeep Things
Author:Paulo Coelho
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“I thought the force of my wanting must wake ye, surely. And then ye did come. . ." He stopped, looking at me with eyes gone soft and dark. "Christ, Claire, ye were so beautiful, there on the stair, wi' your hair down and the shadow of your body with the light behind ye…." He shook his head slowly. "I did think I should die, if I didna have ye," he said softly. "Just then.”

IfsThinkingShouldSaidBodyLightEyeBeautifulDiesForceChristDarkBehindsGoneHairShadowDown AndYour BodyStairsClaire
Book:The Outlander Series Bundle: Books 5, 6, 7, and 8: The Fiery Cross, A Breath of Snow and Ashes, An Echo in the Bone, Written in My Own Heart's Blood
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“It was Buckley, as my father and sister joined the group and listened to Grandma Lynn’s countless toasts, who saw me. He saw me standing under the rustic colonial clock and stared. He was drinking champagne. There were strings coming out from all around me, reaching out, waving in the air. Someone passed him a brownie. He held it in his hand but did not eat. He saw my shape and face, which had not changed-the hair still parted down the middle, the chest still flat and hips undeveloped-and wanted to call out my name. It was only a moment, and then I was gone.”

StillsMomentsHandsWantedFacesFatherNamesGoneSawsGroupsAirMiddleChangedHairShapesStandingDrinkingHipsClockReachingFlatsStringsChestsComing OutReach OutGrandmaChampagneToastsBrowniesRusticDrinking Champagne
Author:Alice Sebold
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“Louis-Cesare’s anger suddenly filled the small room like water, and in a heartbeat his eyes went from silver tinged to as solid as two antique coins. I sat frozen, awash in a sea of power. I was beginning to understand why Mircea had wanted him along, only Daddy had failed to mention anything about the hair-trigger temper. I guess he assumed the red hair would clue me in.”

TwoEyeWantedWaterRoomsSeaHairRedFilledSatHis EyesSilverTemperClueCoinsFrozenDaddyTriggersHeartbeatAntiquesRed HairSmall Rooms
Book:Midnight's Daughter
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“Rohan's fingertips drifted with stunning delicacy over her throat, behind her ear, pushing into the satiny warmth of her hair. "You are an interesting woman Amelia." Gooseflesh rose wherever his breath touched. "I can't f-fathom why you would think so." His playful mouth traced the wing of her brow. "I find you thoroughly, deeply interesting. I want to open you like a book and read every page." A smile curved the corners of his lips as he added huskily, "Footnotes included.”

ThinkingWantI CanBookInterestingBehindsHairPagesMouthsEarsBreathsWingsRoseLipsCornersTouchedPushingThroatWarmthBrowsStunningDelicacyFingertipsFathomAmeliaFootnotesRohan
Book:Mine Till Midnight
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“Dad always warned that it was misleading when one imagined people, when one sas them in the Mind's Eye, because one never remembered them as they really were, with as many inconsistencies as there were hairs on a human head (100,000 to 200,000). Instead, the mind used a lazy shorthand, smoothed the person over into their most dominating characteristic--their pessimism or insecurity (something really being lazy, turning them into either Nice or Mean)--and one made the mistake of judging them from this basis alone and risked, on a subsequent encounter, being dangerously surprised.”

PeopleMindHumansMeanPersonsMadeEyeUsedMistakeNiceJudgingHairDadBasesRememberedCharacteristicsEncountersLazyInsecurityPessimismMisleadDominatingInconsistencyShorthandBeing Lazy
Author:Marisha Pessl
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“Finally, in October 1945, a man with swampy eyes, feathers of hair, and a clean-shaven face walked into the shop. He approached the counter. "Is there someone here by the name of Leisel Meminger?" "Yes, she's in the back," said Alex. He was hopeful, but he wanted to be sure. "May I ask who is calling on her?" Leisel came out. They hugged and cried and fell to the floor.”

MenMaySaidEyeWantedFacesAsksNamesHairCallingCleanShopsHopefulCriedFeathersAlexOctoberClean Shaven
Author:Markus Zusak
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“Peter curled his hands into fists at his sides. 'Kiss me,' he said. She leaned towards him slowly, until her face was too close to be in focus. Her hair fell over Peter's shoulder like a curtain and her eyes closed. She smelled like autumn-like apple cider and slanting sun and the snap of the coming cold. He felt his heart scrambling, caught inside the confines of his own body. Josie's lips landed just on the edge of his, almost his cheek and not quite his mouth. 'I'm glad I wasn't stuck in here alone,' she said shyly, and he tasted the words, sweet as mint on her breath.”

HeartSaidBodyHandsEyeFacesFeltSidesSunFocusSweetHairColdKissingMouthsBreathsLipsEdgesCaughtStuckGladShouldersApplesAutumnPeterCheeksHer EyesCurtainsFistsSnapsKiss MeMintCiderApple CiderJosie
Book:The Jodi Picoult Collection #3: Vanishing Acts, The Tenth Circle, and Nineteen Minutes
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“I can't wait until this show gets on the road," he said. "You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories..." The reference to "ghost stories" hit a little closer to home than I was comfortable with. Not that choosing curtains or brushing Christian's hair was much more appealing.”

LittlesSaidI CanStoriesShowsHomeChristianFunWaitingHairComfortableRoseGhostCurtainsBrushingGhost Stories
Author:Richelle Mead
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“Alice doesn't seem to mind because she's laughing too, and biting her lip, all doe-eyed, and tossing her freshly washed hair, and Norton tosses his lovely, glossy hair back, and she tosses her hair in return, and he tosses his, and she tosses hers, and it;s like some mating ritual on a wildlife program.”

MindDoeSeemsLaughingHairReturnProgramLipsLovelyRitualWildlifeTossBitingMating
Book:A Question of Attraction: A Novel
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“And the boys were all clean, their faces freshly and brutally shaved, their hair painstakingly gelled into exquisite apparent carelessness, with this electric feeling inside of them, which matched the feelings in the girls, that they were all ascending, moving into a future that could only improve them, and I wondered what it was like - the miracle, the stupidity of feeling that.”

FeelingsFacesMovingGirlBoysHairMiracleCleanStupidityElectricExquisiteMatchedCarelessnessAscending
Book:Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You: A Novel
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“Kevin stopped where he was and stood there simply gazing at her. Molly sat cross-legged in the meadow with the sun shining on her bare shoulders and a pair of yellow butterflies fluttering like hair bows around her head. She was all the dreams he'd lost at dawn-dreams of everything he hadn't understood he needed until now. She was his playmate, his confidante, the lover who made his blood rush. She was the mother of his children and the companion of his old age. She was the joy of his heart.”

HeartChildrenMadeDreamAgeJoyMotherLostSunBloodHairNeededLoversUnderstoodCrossesShiningShouldersOld AgeDawnSatPairsCompanionYellowButterflyBowsMeadowsKevinGazingFluttering
Author:Susan Elizabeth Phillips
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“I wish we could spend July by the sea, browning ourselves and feeling water-weighted hair flow behind us from a dive. I wish our gravest concerns were the summer gnats. I wish we were hungry for hot dogs and dopes, and it would be nice to smell the starch of summer linens and the faint odor of talc in blistering summer bath houses ... We could lie in long citoneuse beams of the five o'clock sun on the plage at Juan-les-Pins and hear the sound of the drum and piano being scooped out to sea by the waves.”

LongFeelingsWould BeLyingHouseWishSoundWaterBehindsSunFiveNiceSeaDogHairSummerConcernFlowHotWaveSmellHungryClockPianoBeing NiceBathsPinsJulyBeamDopeOdorHot DogJuanLinenGnats
Author:Zelda Fitzgerald
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“There was something about clowns that was worse than zombies. (Or maybe something that was the same. When you see a zombie, you want to laugh at first. When you see a clown, most people get a little nervous. There's the pallor and the cakey mortician-style makeup, the shuffling and the untidy hair. But clowns were probably malicious, and they moved fast on those little bicycles and in those little crammed cars. Zombies weren't much of anything. They didn't carry musical instruments and they didn't care whether or not you laughed at them. You always knew what zombies wanted.)”

PeopleWantFirstsLittlesCareWantedLaughingCarStyleHairInstrumentsMovedMusicalNervousMakeupLaughedZombieClownBicycleMaliciousMusical InstrumentsShufflingMorticians
Author:Kelly Link
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“If I existed 200 years ago, all the other farmers in my community would be like, 'That guy is worthless! He's sitting on a rock, jumping up like a frog, coming up with weird concepts and ideas, making faces, and combing his hair into a giant pastry.' It's a good thing I was born in this century, when superfluous television seems to be part of the economy.”

IfsYearsIdeasSeemsWould BeFacesGuyBornCommunityEconomyRocksCenturyTelevisionHairSittingConceptsYears AgoGood ThingsGiantsFarmersWorthlessJumpingThat GuyFrogsSuperfluousPastries
Author:Conan O'Brien
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“The temptation is to stay inside; to subside into the kind of recluse whom neighborhood children regard with derision and little awe; to let the hedges and weeds grow up, to allow the doors to rust shut, to lie on my bed in some gown-shaped garment and let my hair lengthens and spread out over the pillow and my fingernails to sprout into claws, while candle wax drips onto the carpet. But long ago I made a choice between classicism and romanticism. I prefer to be upright and contained—an urn in daylight.”

KindChildrenLittlesLongMadeLyingChoicesGrowsGrowing UpDoorsHairBedRegardSpreadTemptationAweNeighborhoodWeedCandleLong AgoCarpetPillowGarmentsRomanticismDaylightClawsRustGownsSproutsFingernailsRecluseDerisionClassicism
Author:Margaret Atwood
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“For a second, he was still, blinking. Then he shook off all the blankets and coats so that his arms were free and he wrapped them around me as tightly as he could. I felt him shuddering, shuddering against me as he buried his face in my hair. I said, uselessly, "Sam, don't go." Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. "These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please."" — Grace and Sam (Shiver)”

LooksSaidStillsHandsEyeRememberFacesFeltGraceMinesHairArmsPleaseHis EyesBuriedYellowCoatsLook At MeBlanketShiverShuddering
Book:Shiver Series (Shiver, Linger, Forever, Sinner)
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“Mircea must have heard us come in, but he continued what he was doing. He stood with his back to us, the candlelight on his bare skin causing his muscles to fall into sharp relief. He’d washed the river gunk out of his hair and now he threw it back, the water droplets shimmering in the light. The scene looked for all the world like a really good romance novel cover.”

WorldLightRomanceFallWaterNovelHeardHairSceneRiversSkinsMusclesReliefRomance NovelCandlelightDropletsBare Skin
Book:Cassie Palmer Novels 1-5
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“I wish he hadn't gone and cut his hair. He looks about eight years old. His ears have tripled in size. Everyone's started calling him Dumbo. Which wouldn't be so bad, except they've started calling me Mrs. Dumbo. You can't even tell he's got curly hair anymore. There's nothing left to run my fingers through. Just this weird blond AstroTurf sprouting out of his skull.”

YearsLooksRunningLeftWishGoneCuttingHairCallingEarsFingersSizeEightSkullsCurly HairDumbo
Book:What My Mother Doesn't Know
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“I looked at Thalia. "You're afraid of heights." Now that we were safely down the mountain, her eyes had their usual angry look. "Don't be stupid." That explains why you freaked out on Apollo's bus. Why you didn't want to talk about it." She took a deep breath. Then she brushed the pine needles out of her hair. "If you tell anyone, I swear—" No, no," I said. "That's cool. It's just… the daughter of Zeus, the Lord of the Sky, afraid of heights?”

IfsWantLooksSaidEyeLordSkyStupidHairMountainDaughterBreathsAngryHeightBusUsualSwearHer EyesApolloNeedlesDeep BreathZeusThalia Grace
Book:The Titan's curse
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“That the speech of self-disclosure should be translatable seems to me very odd, but I am convinced that it is. The conclusion that I draw is that the only quality which all human being without exception possess is uniqueness: any characteristic, on the other hand, which one individual can be recognized as having in common with another, like red hair or the English language, implies the existence of other individual qualities which this classification excludes.”

ShouldHumansSelfHandsSeemsIndividualLanguageHuman BeingsCommonExistenceQualityHairSpeechDrawsRedConvincedConclusionOddCharacteristicsExceptionUniquenessEnglish LanguageClassificationDisclosureRed HairSelf Disclosure
Author:W. H. Auden
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