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Hair Quotes

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Hair Quotes

“I felt that there could be some anger. There could be some frustration that he has the tendency to take over the room, but I wanted all of those things to show in the grays of her hair and the fact that her hips are much wider than they probably were when she met him. I wanted it to show in the fact that her hair is not done up all the time. I wanted it to be a part of that every day that wasn't in your face. Because then for me, that's overacting. To me, that's not "being." I wanted Rose [in "Fences"] to be many things.”

DoneFactsShowsWantedFacesFeltRoomsHairMetsRoseTendenciesHipsFrustrationYour FaceFence
Author:Viola Davis
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“I will love you always. When this red hair is white, I will still love you. When the smooth softness of youth is replaced by the delicate softness of age, I will still want to touch your skin. When your face is full of the lines of every smile you have ever smiled, of every surprise I have seen flash through your eyes, when every tear you have ever cried has left its mark upon your face,I will treasure you all the more, because I was there to see it all. I will share your life with you, Meredith, and I will love you until the last breath leaves your body or mine.”

WantStillsBodyEyeAgeLastsFacesLeftLinesWhiteShareLove YouYouthTearsMinesHairRedRomanticSkinsMarkBreathsAgingSurpriseYour BodyTreasureYour FaceDelicateLost LoveFlashCriedRomantic LoveReplacedSmoothSoftnessRed HairStill Love YouAlways Love YouDelicate Life
Author:Laurell K. Hamilton
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“The world is being run by people my age, men my age, with falling-out hair and health worries, and it frightens me. When the leaders were older than me I could believe in their wisdom, I could believe they had transcended rage and malice and the need to be loved. Now I know better. I look at the faces in newspapers, in magazines, and wonder: what greeds, what furies drive them on?”

PeopleKnowsMenWorldNeedsBelieveLooksRunningAgeFacesFallLeaderWonderWorryHairGreedRageNewspapersMagazinesFuryMalice
Book:Cat's Eye
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“She looked at a silver birch: it would have a soft, showery voice and would look like a slender girl, with hair blown all about her face and fond of dancing. She looked at the oak: he would be a wizened, but hearty, old man with a frizzled beard and warts on his fact and hands, with hair growing out of the warts. She looked at the beech under which she was standing. Ah! --she would be the best of all. She would be a gracious goddess, smooth and stately, the Lady of the Wood.”

MenLooksFactsHandsWould BeFacesGirlVoiceGrowingHairStandingDancingWoodsBeing The BestSilverOld ManGoddessSmoothBeardGraciousOaksSlenderHeartyWarts
Author:C. S. Lewis
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“Hey, have you heard that one about the difference between me, Wit, and my loutish cousin, Hilarity? No? Okay, so I walk into a bar, you see, very unassuming, and order a martini. Then the bartender, Hilarity, hauls off and squirts me in the face with a seltzer bottle, ruining my n ice new camel hair suit, dousing my monocle and my watch fob, soaking my cravat. So, do I let him have what for, and blow my top? I do not. I simply say: Sorry, I believe I said 'very dry'.”

BelieveSaidFacesOrderI BelieveDifferencesWalksWatchesHeardHairOkaySorryBlowWitBarsSuitsIceHeyDryBottlesCousinCamelsHaulBartenderMartiniSoakingSaying SorryUnassumingHilarityMonocles
Author:Chip Kidd
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“it may not always be so; and i say that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch his heart, as mine in time not far away; if on another's face your sweet hair lay in such a silence as i know,or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch, stand helplessly before the spirit at bay; if this should be, i say if this should be- you of my heart, send me a little word; that i may go unto him, and take his hands, saying, Accept all happiness from me. Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands.”

IfsKnowsShouldHeartMayLittlesHandsFacesSpiritTurnsLostStrongSilenceAcceptingLandMinesSweetHairMy HeartBirdLaysFingersLipsDearBe YouFar AwayAfarClutch
Book:100 Selected Poems
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“I will be thin and pure like a glass cup. Empty. Pure as light. Music. I move my hands over my body - my shoulders, my collarbone, my rib cage, my hip bones like part of an animal skull, my small thighs. In the mirror my face is pale and my eyes look bruised. My hair is pale and thin and the light comes through. I could be a lot younger than seventeen. I could be a child still, untouched.”

LooksChildrenStillsBodyHandsLightEyeFacesMovingAnimalHairPureEmptyMirrorsGlassesBonesShouldersCupsHipsPaleCagesSkullsThighsSeventeenRibsBruisedRib Cage
Book:The Hanged Man
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“It was only when they'd rounded the corner toward the Penguin that we finally sat up, Laughing semi-hysterically. "Oh my God, did you see her face?" Becca asked between guffaws. "'There's something in my hair!'" "That was fantastic, Crazytop," Jason said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Best master plan yet.”

SaidEyeFacesLaughingPlansTearsMastersHairLaughterCornersFantasticSatHis EyesJasonPenguins
Book:How to be Popular: ... when you're a social reject like me, Steph L.!
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“His blue-black hair fell over his face when he moved, like tiny arrows pointing to pronounced cheeckbones. "Starting to think you were going to bail on me." "Didn't know you were expecting me," she said in what she hoped was a casual voice. He gets sexier every day. "Not Expecting, but hoping. Always hoping”

ThinkingKnowsSaidFacesBlackVoiceHairBlueMovedStartingTinyExpectingPointingArrowsCasualBailBlack Hair
Book:Wicked Lovely with Bonus Material
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“Boys are just boys after all, but sometimes girls really seem to be the turn of a pale wrist, or the sudden jut of a hip, or a clutch of very dark hair falling across a freckled forehead. I'm not saying that's what they really are. I'm just saying sometimes it seems that way, and that those details (a thigh mole, a full face flush, a scar the precise shape and size of a cashew nut) are so many hooks waiting to land you.”

WaySometimesSeemsFacesTurnsFallGirlWaitingDarkBoysLandHairShapesSizeDetailsHipsNutsScarPalePreciseHookForeheadsWristsThighsJust SayingClutchMolesDark HairCashews
Author:Zadie Smith
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“What I need is perspective. The illusion of depth, created by a frame, the arrangement of shapes on a flat surface. Perspective is necessary. Otherwise there are only two dimensions. Otherwise you live with your face squashed up against a wall, everything a huge foreground, of details, close-ups, hairs, the weave of the bedsheet, the molecules of the face. Your own skin like a map, a diagram of futility, criscrossed with tiny roads that lead nowhere. Otherwise you live in the moment. Which is not where I want to be.”

WantNeedsTwoMomentsFacesHugeHairPerspectiveWallShapesPerceptionIllusionSkinsDepthDetailsSurfaceTinyDimensionsMapsFlatsYour FaceArrangementsLive In The MomentMoleculesFutilityDiagramsForeground
Author:Margaret Atwood
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“What we want most is to be held...and told..that everything (everything is a funny thing, is baby milk and papa's eyes, is roaring logs on a cold morning, is hoot owls and the boy who makes you cry after school, is mama's long hair, is being afraid and twisted faces on the bedroom wall)...is going to be alright.”

WantLongEyeSchoolFacesBoysMorningCryHairWallBabyColdMilkBedroomTwistedFunny ThingsMamaAlrightBeing AfraidOwlRoaringPapaLong HairAfter SchoolMake You CryHootCold MorningBedroom Wall
Book:Truman Capote: Conversations
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“As I followed Margo's directions through the maze of one-way streets, we saw a few people sleeping on the sidewalk or sitting on benches, but nobody was moving. Margo rolled down the window, and I felt the thick air blow across my face, warmer than night ought to be. I glanced over and saw strands of her hair blowing all around her face. Even though I could see her there, I felt entirely alone among these big and empty buildings, like I'd survived the apocalypse and the world had been given to me, this whole and amazing and endless world, mine for the exploring.”

PeopleWorldWayWholeBigsFacesMovingNightGivenFeltSleepSawsAirStreetsBuildingMinesHairOughtSittingWindowEmptyBlowEndlessOne WayThickExploringSurvivedApocalypseBenchesStrandsSidewalkMazesSitting On The BenchHair Blowing
Book:Paper Towns
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“She whirled when the monster was almost on top of her. I thought the thing in her hands was an umbrella until she cranked the pump and the shotgun blast blew the giant twenty feet backwards, right into Nico's sword. "Nice one," Paul said. "When did you learn to fire a shotgun?" I demanded. My mom blew the hair out of her face. "About two seconds ago. Percy, we'll be fine. Go!”

SaidTwoHandsFacesFireNiceFeetHairFineMomTwentiesMy MomMonstersGiantsSecondsBackwardsBlastUmbrellaPumpsShotguns
Author:Rick Riordan
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“As long as I kept moving, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did the slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown. So I just didn't stop.”

LongFacesMovingStuffWaterDarkGriefBehindsHairArmsWeightThroatFloatingCatchingTouch MeSwimmerSlickLong Hair
Book:The Poisonwood Bible
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“Or perhaps a widow found him and took him in: brought him an easy chair, changed his sweater every morning, shaved his face until the hair stopped growing, took him faithfully to bed with her every night, whispered sweet nothings into what was left of his ear, laughed with him over black coffee, cried with him over yellowing pictures, talked greenly about having kids of her own, began to miss him before she became sick, left him everything in her will, thought of only him as she died, always knew he was fiction but believed in him anyway.”

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Author:Jonathan Safran Foer
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“What an unreliable thing is time--when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl's hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair. .... But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.”

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Author:Rohinton Mistry
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“He slouched back in his seat, looking tired, and leaned his face on his shoulder to look at me while he played with my hair. He started to hum a song, and then, after a few bars, he sang it. Quietly, sort of half-sung, half-spoken, incredibly gentle. I didn’t catch all the words, but it was about his summer girl. Me. Maybe his forever girl. His yellow eyes were half-lidded as he sang, and in that golden moment, hanging taut in the middle of an icecovered landscape like a single bubble of summer nectar, I could see how my life could be stretched out in front of me.”

LooksMomentsEyeFacesSongGirlHalfForeverMiddleFrontsHairSummerTiredBarsShouldersGoldenLandscapeGentleSeatsYellowBubblesLook At MeNectarGolden Moments
Book:Shiver Series (Shiver, Linger, Forever, Sinner)
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“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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“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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“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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“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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“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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“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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“I love you, i love your smile your snarl your grin, your face when your sleeping.I love your hair streaming behind you as we fly, with the sunlight making it shine, if it doesn't have too much mud or blood in it, I love seeing your wings spreading out, white and brown and tan and speckled, and the tiny downy feathers right at the top of your shoulders. I love your eyes, whether they're cold or calculating or suspicious or laughing or warm, like when you look at me.”

IfsLooksEyeFacesSleepWhiteBehindsLaughingToo MuchSeeingBloodLove YouHairColdWingsShiningWarmTinyShouldersBrownYour FaceSunlightLook At MeMudFeathersSuspiciousBehind YouYour SmileCalculatingStreaming
Author:James Patterson
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“I watch her do the simplest things: brushing her hair into a ponytail, feeding the dog, tying Sophie's shoelaces, and I want to tell her what she means to me, but I never actually say the words. After all, to acknowledge Delia as a drug, I'd have to face the fact that one day I might have to go without her and this I can't do.”

WantMeanI CanFactsMightFacesWatchesDogHairOne DayDrugAcknowledgeFeedingSimplestSophieBrushingPonytailsShoelaces
Book:Vanishing Acts
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“I always thought it would be a simple matter to lie wi' a woman, he said softly. And yet... I want to fall on my face at your feet and worship you"-he dropped the towel and reached out, taking me by the shoulders-"and still I want to force ye to your knees before me, and hold ye there wi' me hands tangled in your hair, and your mouth at my service...and I want both things at the same time, Sassenach.”

WantSaidStillsMatterHandsWould BeFacesLyingFallForceSimpleFeetHairWorshipMouthsShouldersKneesTangledTowelsWorship You
Book:The Outlander Series 8-Book Bundle: Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voyager, Drums of Autumn, 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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