Hair Quotes - Page 40

• And there I was, 225 pounds, perpetually lost and confused, short legs, ape-like upper body, all chest, no neck, head too large, blurred eyes, hair uncombed, 6 feet of geek, waiting for her.

  Charles Bukowski

  Confused, Eye, Feet

  Charles Bukowski (2007). “Women”, Ecco

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• Payton grinned. “You must be Chase.” As she extended her hand in introduction, she took the opportunity to give him a more thorough once-over. He had dark wavy hair and warm brown eyes. Very Pat-rick Dempsey/McDreamy-esque. Good build, not terribly tall, maybe only five-ten-ish, but since Payton measured in at exactly five-three and one-third inch, she could work with this

  Julie James

  Eye, Dark, Opportunity

  Julie James (2009). “Practice Makes Perfect”, p.79, Penguin

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• Her mother was a Rutherford. The family came over in the ark, and were connected by marriage with Henry the VIII. On her father's side they date back further than Adam. On the topmost branches of her family tree there's a superior breed of monkeys with very fine silky hair and extra long tails.

  Jean Webster

  Mother, Father, Long

  Jean Webster (2015). “Daddy-Long-Legs”, p.24, Sheba Blake Publishing

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• I'm thinking of being a professional mourner. How hard can it be? Tear at your hair, sing a dirge or two, take the rest of the week off.

  Christopher Moore

  Thinking, Two, Tears

  Christopher Moore (2009). “Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal”, p.30, Harper Collins

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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.

  John Green

  Moving, Sleep, Blow

  John Green (2013). “Paper Towns”, p.53, A&C Black

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• His love for my mother wasn't about looking back and loving something that would never change. It was about loving my mother for everything -- for her brokenness and her fleeing, for her being there right then in that moment before the sun rose and the hospital staff came in. It was about touching that hair with the side of his fingertip, and knowing yet plumbing fearlessly the depths of her ocean eyes.

  Alice Sebold

  Mother, Ocean, Eye

  Alice Sebold (2014). “The Lovely Bones: Picador Classic”, p.198, Pan Macmillan

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• Wait!" What?" I lowered my cup hastily, wondering if maybe there was a stray hair, or worse, a newly boiled bug inside my cup. You got to smell it first. It's the proper way to cup coffee." Cup coffee?" Taste it." What? Are you the coffee police or something?

  Justina Chen

  Coffee, Smell, Waiting

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• I gestured my frustration. “I don’t know. She’s much better already. She wasn’t talking half an hour ago. Look at her now.” We all turned, finding Ceri sobbing quietly and drinking her tea in small reverent sips as the pixy girls hovered over her. Three were plating her long, fair hair and another was singing to her. Okay,” I said as we turned back. “Bad example.

  Kim Harrison

  Girl, Drinking, Frustration

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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!

  Rick Riordan

  Mom, Nice, Fire

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• Hellooo.” I held out my arm. “An amethyst woman with blue hair is telling you this.” She reached out and scraped her short nails over my arm. I snatched my arm back. “Ow.” Not body makeup.” She frowned and peered at the roots of my hair. “A good die-job or you’ve really got blue hair.” For now,” I said. “I’m half Drow.” She raised an eyebrow. Dark Elves.” Uh-huhhhh.” During the day I look normal, like you.” With an amused look she held up her arm, showing her dark, golden skin. “You’re Kenyan and Puerto Rican?

  Cheyenne McCray

  Jobs, Dark, Makeup

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• It was for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my head like quills. Sir, if that was my master, why had he a mask upon his face?

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Jekyll, Faces, Saws

  Robert Louis Stevenson (2005). “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, second edition”, p.64, Broadview Press

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• We hug, but there are no tears. For every awful thing that's been said and done, she is my sister. Parents die, daughters grow up and marry out, but sisters are for life. She is the only person left in the world who shares my memories of our childhood, our parents, our Shanghai, our struggles, our sorrows, and, yes, even our moments of happiness and triumph. My sister is the one person who truly knows me, as I know her. The last thing May says to me is 'When our hair is white, we'll still have our sister love.

  Lisa See

  Sister, Daughter, Growing Up

  Lisa See (2013). “Shanghai Girls and Dreams of Joy: Two Bestselling Novels”, p.412, Random House

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• Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

  Rick Riordan

  Song, Orange, Curly Hair

  Rick Riordan (2006). “The lightning thief”

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• I am a king's daughter, And if I cared to care, The moon that has no mistress Would flutter in my hair. No one dares to cherish What I choose to crave. Never have I hungered, For that I did not have I am a kings daughter, And I grow old within The prison of my person, The shackles of my skin. And I would run away And beg from door to door, Just to see your shadow Once, and never more.

  Peter S. Beagle

  Daughter, Running, Kings

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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.

  Barbara Kingsolver

  Moving, Grief, Dark

  Barbara Kingsolver (2008). “The Poisonwood Bible”, p.288, Faber & Faber

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• You ready?" Evan asks, and he's looking at me, and I love his hair, I love his smile, I lo--"I Love You," I say, and as I watch his smile bloom I finally get how great those three little words are. I finally get what they really mean.

  Elizabeth Scott

  Love You, Mean, Watches

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• After all, it's all kinds of things that make up a life, right? The big, like falling in love and spending time with your family, and the little....like blow drying your hair, applying concealer, and cursing those magazine inserts. It all counts. It has to.

  Sarah Dessen

  Falling In Love, Blow, Magazines

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• I didn't wash today. I wasn't dirty. If I'm not dirty, I don't wash. Some weeks I don't have to shower at all. I just groom my three basic areas: teeth, hair, and asshole. And to save time, I use the same brush.

  George Carlin

  Dirty, Teeth, Three

  George Carlin (1998). “Brain Droppings”, Hyperion

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• 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.

  Charlaine Harris

  Girlfriend, Silly, Mirrors

  Charlaine Harris (2003). “Dead in Dixie”

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• Gandalf, dwarves and Mr. Baggins! We are met together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit—may the hair on his toes never fall out!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Fall, Dwarves, House

  J.R.R. Tolkien (2012). “The Hobbit”, p.11, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Burn, burn tree and fern! Shrivel and scorch! A fizzling torch To light the night for our delight, Ya hey! Bake and toast ‘em, fry and roast ‘em! till beards blaze, and eyes glaze; till hair smells and skins crack, fat melts, and bones black in cinders lie beneath the sky! So dwarves shall die, and light the night for our delight, Ya hey! Ya-harri-hey! Ya hoy!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Lying, Eye, Night

  J.R.R. Tolkien (2012). “The Hobbit”, p.60, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• With her braided hair and white dress, she seemed to glow in the moonlight.

  Rick Riordan

  White, Dresses, Moonlight

  Rick Riordan (2013). “Percy Jackson: The Complete Series”, p.833, Penguin UK

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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.

  William Butler Yeats

  Wise, Running, Stars

  William Butler Yeats (2016). “Collected Poems”, p.52, William Butler Yeats

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• He cries. 'Please! I don't want to die.' I lean over. My hair smothers him. 'Then you should never have been born,' I say.

  Christopher Pike

  Want, Cry, Born

  Christopher Pike (2013). “Thirst: Thirst No. 1; Thirst No. 2; Thirst”, p.85, Simon and Schuster

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• Sam has brown hair and very, very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn't make a big deal about itself.

  Stephen Chbosky

  Eye, Green, Kind

  Stephen Chbosky (2013). “The Perks of Being a Wallflower YA edition”, p.26, Simon and Schuster

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