“As fog moved to the mainland I heard a flock of birds fly over. They sounded like a dress rustling, a dress being unfastened and dropping to the floor. Fog came unpinned like hair. On the beach cliffs, great colonies of datura - jimson weed - with their white trumpet flowers, looked like brass bands.” WhiteHeardFlowerHairBandBirdDressesMovedBeachWeedFogCliffsDroppingFlocksTrumpetsColonyBrassBrass Bands Book:A match to the heart Source: A match to the heart
“Beespittle, droppings, hairs of beefur: all become honey. Virulent micro-organisms cannot survive in honey.” HairHoneyOrganismsDropping Book:Poems of Denise Levertov, 1960-1967 Source: Poems of Denise Levertov, 1960-1967
“Hey, our hair's the same color," I said, eyeing us side by side in the mirror. Sure is, Girlfriend." Eric grinned at me. "But are you blond all the way down?" Don't you wish you knew?" Yes," he said simply. Well, you'll just have to wonder." I am," he said. "Blond everywhere," I could tell as much from your chest hair." He raised my arm to check my armpit. "You silly women, shaving your body hair," He said, dropping my arm.” WayWellsSaidBodyWishSidesWonderColorHairArmsMirrorsRaisedYour BodySillyChecksHeyGirlfriendChestsDroppingWish YouEricShavingArmpitsBody Hair Book:Dead in Dixie Source: Dead in Dixie
“You will be getting a haircut, won't you?" Halt ran his hand through his hair. It was getting a little long, he thought. I'll give it a trim," he said, his hand dropping unconciously to the hilt of his saxe knife. This time, Pauline did look up. You'll get a haircut," she said. Her gaze was steady and unwavering. I'll get a haircut," he agreed meekly.” GivingLooksLittlesLongSaidHandsHairRanLook UpKnivesSteadyDroppingHaltHaircutsUnwavering Author:John Flanagan