“Fair maid, white and red, Comb me smooth, and stroke my head; And every hair a sheave shall be, And every sheave a golden tree.” WhiteBeautyTreeHairRedFairsGoldenSmoothStrokesMaidsCombs Author:George Peele
“Most people think, "Life sucks, and then you die." I disagree. I think life sucks. Then you get cancer. Then you go into chemotherapy. You lose all your hair, you feel bad about yourself. Then all of the sudden the cancer goes into remission, and then all of the sudden you have a stroke. You can't move your right side. And then, maybe, you die.” PeopleThinkingFeelsHumorFunnyMovingDiesSidesLosesHairCancerAbout YourselfDisagreeStrokesChemotherapyRemissionLife Sucks Author:Denis Leary
“There is so little to remember of anyone - an anecdote, a conversation at a table. But every memory is turned over and over again, every word, however chance, written in the heart in the hope that memory will fulfill itself, and become flesh, and that the wanderers will find a way home, and the perished, whose lack we always feel, will step through the door finally and stroke our hair with dreaming habitual fondness not having meant to keep us waiting long.” WayFeelsHeartLittlesLongHomeDreamRememberWaitingMemoriesChanceStepsWrittenDoorsHairConversationTablesFleshStrokesHabitualAnecdotesFondnessWanderersWay Home Author:Marilynne Robinson
“This world,' she said. 'Do you really like it?' What a question! Farid never asked himself such things. He was glad to be with Dustfinger again and didn't mind where that was. It's a cruel world, don't you think?' Meggie went on. 'Mo often told me I forget how cruel it is too easily.' With his burned fingers, Farid stroke her fair hair. It shone even in the dark. 'They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.” PeopleThinkingWorldMindSaidDarkForgetThis WorldHairFairsFingersGladCrueltyBurnedStrokesCruel WorldDustfinger Book:Inkspell Source: Inkspell
“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