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Hair Quotes

“I lost the conviction that lights would always turn green for me, the pleasant certainty that those rather passive virtues which had won me approval as a child automatically guaranteed me not only Phi Beta Kappa keys but happiness, honor, and the love of a good man; lost a certain touching faith in the totem power of good manners, clean hair, and a proven competence on the Stanford-Binet scale. To such doubtful amulets had my self-respect been pinned, and I faced myself that day with the non-plused apprehension of someone who has come across a vampire and has no crucifix at hand.”

MenChildrenSelfHandsLightCertainTurnsLostVirtueHairKeysHonorGreenCleanConvictionScalesCertaintyVampireMannersPleasantSelf RespectGood ManTouchingApprovalPassiveProvenCompetenceDoubtfulApprehensionGood MannersStanfordTotemsBetaAmulets
Author:Joan Didion
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“Kent. Where's the king? Gent. Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury and make nothing of; Strives in his little world of man to outscorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all.”

MenWorldLittlesMightRunningEarthNightWaterWhiteSeaTearsWindHairBearsKingsElementsRainStriveBlowRageCeaseDryLionsStrifeBellyFuryCouchesBlastFurCubsKentContendingWhite HairWind And RainImpetuousGents
Book:The plays of William Shakespeare
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“For all works and things, which are either commanded or forbidden by God and thus have been instituted by the supreme Majesty, are 'musts.' Nevertheless, no one should be dragged to them or away from them by the hair, for I can drive no man to heaven or beat him into it with a club.”

MenShouldHas BeensI CanHeavenHairBeatsClubsSupremeNeverthelessForbiddenMajesty
Book:Martin Luther's Basic Theological Writings
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“I sometimes used to ask myself, what on earth did I love her for? Maybe fore the warm hazel iris of her fluffy eyes, or for the natural side-wave of her brown hair, done anyhow, or again for that movement of her plump shoulders. But, probably the truth was that I loved her because she loved me. To her I was the ideal man: brains, pluck. And there was none dressed better. I remember once, when I first put on that new dinner jacket, with the vast trousers, she clapsed her hands, sank down on a chair and murmured: 'Oh, Hermann...." It was ravishment bordering upon something like heavenly woe.”

MenFirstsSometimesDoneHandsEyeEarthRememberUsedAsksSidesNaturalBrainMovementHairIdealsWaveWarmDinnerShouldersBrownChairsHeavenlyWoeJacketsPluckTrousersFluffyIrisesIdeal ManBrown Hair
Author:Vladimir Nabokov
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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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“For all the feminist jabber about women being victimized by fashion, it is men who most suffer from conventions of dress. Every day, a woman can choose from an army of personae, femme to butch, and can cut or curl her hair or adorn herself with a staggering variety of artistic aids. But despite the Sixties experiments in peacock dress, no man can rise in the corporate world today, outside the entertainment industry, with long hair or makeup or purple velvet suits.”

MenWorldLongTodaySufferingCuttingFashionHairIndustryArmyDressesFeministEntertainmentAidsExperimentsDespiteSuitsVarietyArtisticCorporateMakeupConventionsSixtyPurpleWorld TodayCurlsVelvetEntertainment IndustryStaggeringFemmeLong HairPeacockCorporate World
Author:Camille Paglia
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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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“When Vanity kissed Vanity, a hundred happy Junes ago, he pondered o'er her breathlessly, and, that all men might ever know, he rhymed her eyes with life and death: "Thru Time I'll save my love!" he said. . . yet Beauty vanished with his breath, and, with her lovers, she was dead. . . -Ever his wit and not her eyes, ever his art and not her hair: "Who'd learn a trick in rhyme, be wise and pause before his sonnet there". . . So all my words, however true, might sing you to a thousandth June, and no one ever know that you were Beauty for an afternoon.”

KnowsMenArtSaidMightEyeWiseHairLoversHundredBreathsWitTricksVanityLife And DeathAfternoonHer EyesPausesRhymeJuneSonnetBeing Wise
Book:This Side of Paradise
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“There are two kind of men,' said Ka, in a didatic voice. 'The first kind does not fall in love until he's seen how the girls eats a sandwich, how she combs her hair, what sort of nonsense she cares about, why she's angry at her father, and what sort of stories people tell about her. The second type of man -- and I am in this category -- can fall in love with a woman only if he knows next to nothing about her.”

PeopleIfsKnowsMenFirstsKindDoeSaidTwoStoriesCareFallGirlNextFatherVoiceHairTypeAngryFalling In LoveNonsenseCategoriesSandwichesCombsStory People
Author:Orhan Pamuk
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“On the day I swore to uphold the Hippocratic oath, the small hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I waited for lightning to strike. Who was I, vowing calmly among all these necktied young men to steal life out of nature's jaws, every old time we got half a chance and a paycheck?... I could not accept the contract: that every child born human upon this earth comes with a guarantee of perfect health and old age clutched in its small fist.”

MenHumansChildrenAgeEarthYoungBornChancePerfectHalfAcceptingHairStrikesStealingOld AgeYoung ManGuaranteesNecksContractsLightningFistsOathStood UpPaychecksOld Time
Book:The Poisonwood Bible
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“Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted--wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.”

IfsMenFeelsFirstsLooksMadeStillsI CanSelfTurnsFeltHurtSunSawsHairPleaseTenFirst TimeStandingStonesLettersBreathsSticksLegsPityKicksDirtPullingLook At MeBicycleSelf PityTracingUncomplicatedHistory Of Love
Book:The History of Love: A Novel
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“The hand descended. Nearer and nearer it came. It touched the ends of his upstanding hair. He shrank down under it. It followed down after him, pressing more closely against him. Shrinking, almost shivering. He still managed to hold himself together. It was a torment, this hand that touched him and violated his instinct. He could not forget in a day all the evil that had been wrought him at the hands of men.”

MenStillsEndsHandsTogetherEvilForgetHairInstinctTouchedTormentShrinking
Book:White Fang (Arcadia Classics)
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“Brown Penny I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.”

IfsThinkingMenEnoughMightWould BeRunningYoungStarsLove IsWiseHairMoonShadowFairsAnd LoveYoung ManBrownRunning AwayPenniesCrookedLoopsBe Young
Book:Collected Poems
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“Afterward, I curl around her. We lie in silence until darkness falls, and then, haltingly, she begins to talk...She speaks without need or even room for response, so I simply hold her and stroke her hair. She talks of the pain, grief, and horror of the past four years; of learning to cope with being the wife of a man so violent and unpredictable his touch made her skin crawl and of thinking, until quite recently, that she'd finally managed to do that. And then, finally, of how my appearance had forced her to realize she hadn't learned to cope at all.”

ThinkingMenNeedsYearsMadePainPastLyingFallSpeakRealizingRoomsGriefSilenceDarknessFourWifeHairHorrorSkinsResponseAppearanceViolentFour YearsStrokesUnpredictableCurls
Author:Sara Gruen
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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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“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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“I sing of a woman with ink on her hands and pictures hidden beneath her hair. I sing of a dog with skin like velvet pushed the wrong way.I sing of the shape a fallen body makes in the dirt beneath a tree, and I sing of an ordinary man who is wanted to know things no human being could tell him.This is the true beginning.”

KnowsMenWayHumansBodyHandsWantedHuman BeingsTreeDogHairShapesOrdinarySkinsFallenDirtInkWrong WayVelvetOrdinary Man
Book:The Dogs of Babel
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