Brunettes And Blonde Friends Quotes

I have friends of mine that are actors or singers, and they're the classic guys where, they're onstage, and they're like, 'Okay, the blonde in the third row, seat 24, bring her to my dressing room.' I've never, never taken advantage of that, I swear to God. ~ Jaime Camil

I grew up in a predominantly Caucasian community, and most of my friends had blonde hair and blue eyes. So I was always straightening my hair, wearing colored contacts, and I never tanned, if I could help it. ~ Shay Mitchell

So ... what are you up to?" she asked.
"I'm looking at a pretty girl."
Huh? If this were texting, that would definitely earn a WTF reply. "Okaay ... "
"She's blonde, wearing blue and standing with two friends. She's talking on her phone, probably to some unworthy jerk, but damn, I wish I were him. ~ Cherrie Lynn

We got hungry around three in the morning, and ordered a ton of pizza from an all-night pizza place. Afterward, Blake talked a guy into letting him borrow his skateboard, and he once again entertained all of us. If it had wheels, Blake could work it.
"Is he your boyfriend?" a girl behind me asked.
I turned to the group of girls watching Blake. They were all coifed and beautiful in their bikinis, not having gone in the water. My wet hair was pulled back in a ponytail by this point and I was wrapped in a towel. "No, he's my boyfriend's best friend. We're watching his place while he's . . . out of town."
A pang of fear jabbed me when I thought about Kai.
"What's your name?" asked a brunette with glossy lips.
"Anna." I smiled.
"Hey. I'm Jenny," she said. "This is Daniela and Tara."
"Hey," I said to them.
"So, your boyfriend lives here?" asked the blonde, Daniela. She had a cool accent - something European.
"Yes," I answered, pointing up to his apartment.
The girls all shared looks, raising their sculpted eyebrows.
"Wait," said Jenny. "Is he that guy in the band?"
The third girl, named Tara, gasped. "The drummer?" When I nodded, they shared awed looks.
"Oh my gawd, don't get mad at me for saying this," said Jenny, "but he's a total piece of eye candy." Her friends all laughed.
"Yum drum," whispered Tara, and Daniela playfully shoved her.
Jenny got serious. "But don't worry. He, like, never comes out or talk ~ Wendy Higgins

Father, R.I.P., Sums Me Up at Twenty-Three
She has no head for politics,
craves good jewelry, trusts too readily,
marries too early. Then
one by one she sends away her friends
and stands apart, smug sapphire,
her answer to everything a slender
zero, a silent shrug
and every day
still hears me say she'll never be pretty.
Instead she reads novels, instead her belt
matches her shoes. She is master
of the condolence letter, and knows
how to please a man with her mouth:
Good. Nose too large, eyes too closely set,
hair not glorious blonde, not her mother's red,
nor the glossy black her younger sister has,
the little raven I loved best. ~ Deborah Garrison

Leila, this is my friend and honorary sire, Menecheres, and his wife, Kira," he said, indicating the lopng-haired Middle Eastern man and the blonde. "Also let me introduce my friend, Cat." The redhead, and for some reason she looked familiar. "Her husband, Bones"-here Vlad smiled coolly at the short-haired brunet-"is not my friend. ~ Jeaniene Frost

Imagine you're sitting having dinner in a restaurant. At some point during the meal, your companion leans over and whispers that they've spotted Lady Gaga eating at the table opposite. Before having a look for yourself, you'll no doubt have some sense of how much you believe your friends theory. You'll take into account all of your prior knowledge: perhaps the quality of the establishment, the distance you are from Gaga's home in Malibu, your friend's eyesight. That sort of thing. If pushed, it's a belief that you could put a number on. A probability of sorts. As you turn to look at the woman, you'll automatically use each piece of evidence in front of you to update your belief in your friend's hypothesis Perhaps the platinum-blonde hair is consistent with what you would expect from Gaga, so your belief goes up. But the fact that she's sitting on her own with no bodyguards isn't, so your belief goes down. The point is, each new observations adds to your overall assessment. This is all Bayes' theorem does: offers a systematic way to update your belief in a hypothesis on the basis of the evidence. It accepts that you can't ever be completely certain about the theory you are considering, but allows you to make a best guess from the information available. So, once you realize the woman at the table opposite is wearing a dress made of meat -- a fashion choice that you're unlikely to chance up on in the non-Gaga population -- that might be enough to tip your belief over the thresho ~ Hannah Fry

Eve supposed everything about Nadine looked mag, from her sweep of streaky blonde hair to the toes of her jazzed shoes. She had a foxy, angular face, observant green eyes, and a slim body that curved appropriately in her on-camera suit of power red. She was smart, she was sneaky, she was cynical. And for reasons Eve imagined neither of them fully understood, they'd become friends. ~ J.D. Robb

I've built my wardrobe color palette around red, so I'm happy with it, but I do get pangs when I see beautiful brunettes. I've already been blue, green, black, and blonde. ~ Florence Welch

Yes beyonce, thank you very very much!!!

Growing up wasn't easy for me, even as a boy, then as a black boy, then it was even harder as a black boy who lives in Africa. You might think that white privilege is more prevalent in America but no, it is worse here in Africa were white people are literally worshiped as gods.

While growing up as a boy in my teens, i had serious self esteem issues, i didn't like the color of my skin, i didn't like my hair, i didn't like my butt, and i was a boy!!! can you believe it? in 2007 i even tried bleaching my skin, lucky for me i bought a fake bleaching cream, translation, it didn't work. I dyed my hair blonde several times.

But after a while i started to get my self esteem in place, the fact that i had so many white folks as friends at that time didn't help, truth is most white people living here in Africa claim not to be racist but when you catch that stare, hear that comment, see the way they react, you can smell racism all over them. I can give you a simple example, I had a white friend years ago who was an exec at a big oil company here in Nigeria, I had just graduated and needed a job, I spoke to him about it and y'all wont believe what he suggested, well, he suggested I work as his steward.

You see, a lot of Nigerians will jump at it, but i smelt racism all over that offer and i wasn't gonna be a slave to a white man who still had slave-owner tendencies, he totally undermined my degree and fel ~ Joseph Ejiro

The funny thing is, I was never purposely blonde. I just got highlights, and then you get highlights over highlights, and then it looks like you're blonde. ~ Cheri Oteri

Her name is Denise, and she has green eyes and red hair. Well, this week. Last week her hair was dyed blonde, and she had blue eyes. Or maybe that was a different woman. I don't know. All I know is that she is my soul mate. ~ Jarod Kintz

Why did the blonde miss her flight? Because when she read the sign on the road that said, "Airport Left," she turned around and went home. ~ Various

Blonde hair drawn into a no-nonsense bun, her new manicure the deep red of fresh blood, she'd even donned a blouse and slacks for the occasion, something Neve had forgotten Veronica owned. ~ Katherine McIntyre

I was raised Catholic, and I remember in all the pamphlets and pictures we'd look at, Jesus was basically blonde with blue eyes. He kind of looked like Jared Leto. ~ Joel Edgerton

The experience of being a young, blonde, naive but well-intentioned young producer was both intimidating and eye-opening. ~ Clarissa Ward

All quiet at the Tilden.

Except for the obese wife of a wealthy industrialist, the furtive face of a raw food quack and the memory of a silk-shirted hoodlum tossing a bill on the carpet for you to crawl and fetch.

All quiet except for the tortured face of a grey-eyed, ash-blonde lovely with a showgirl's body and a conscience heavier than a carload of sins. Mouth, a slash of red; eyes that pleaded for pity, understanding. And lips that told nothing… ~ E. Howard Hunt

When I was blonde I was perceived as an innocent and sweet young girl. ~ Samantha Mathis

I could see their menfolk patrolling nervously up and down toting sub-machine guns and draped in cartridge belts. They were wearing their trademark sunglasses, those gold rimmed feminine accessories which should look comic on a man but instead manage to look as sinister as the wedding dresses and blonde wigs worn by Liberia's drugged fighters. They are the modern equivalent of the wooden masks donned around night fires by warriors preparing to do battle, which turn their wearers into something utterly alien -- faceless instruments of violence capable of unspeakable acts. ~ Michela Wrong

My family went on a cruise, and I got a terrible haircut. FYI: Never get your hair cut on a cruise. And I had, like, this blonde curly 'fro, and I walked into the gym the first day back in seventh grade and everyone was staring at me, and for some reason I thought, I know what I need to do! And I just started sprinting from one end of the gym to the other, and I thought it was hilarious. But nobody else at that age really did. It was genuinely weird ~ Jennifer Lawrence

Picture to yourself the most beautiful girl imaginable! She was so beautiful that there would be no point, in view of my meagre talent for storytelling, in even trying to put her beauty into words. That would far exceed my capabilities, so I'll refrain from mentioning whether she was a blonde or a brunette or a redhead, or whether her hair was long or short or curly or smooth as silk. I shall also refrain from the usual comparisons where her complexion was concerned, for instance milk, velvet, satin, peaches and cream, honey or ivory, Instead, I shall leave it entirely up to your imagination to fill in this blank with your own ideal of feminine beauty. ~ Walter Moers

Had been of the opinion that the whole karaoke evening was going to be an utter bust; but then the little old man had sashayed into the room, walked past the table of several blonde women with the fresh sunburns and smiles of tourists, who were sitting by the little makeshift stage in the corner. He had tipped his hat to them, for he wore a hat, a spotless green fedora, and lemon-yellow gloves, and then he walked over to their table. They giggled. "Are you enjoyin' yourselves, ladies?" he asked. They continued to giggle and ~ Neil Gaiman

It was twenty-five minutes past nine when he got to the corner of Seventh and Spring, where the Metropole was. It was an old hotel that had once been exclusive and was now steering a shaky course between a receivership and a bad name at Headquarters. It had too much oily dark wood paneling, too many chipped gilt mirrors. Too much smoke hung below its low beamed lobby ceiling and too many grifters bummed around in its worn leather rockers. The blonde who looked after the big horseshoe cigar counter wasn't young any more and her eyes were cynical from standing off cheap dates. (Nevada Gas) ~ Raymond Chandler

From the earliest age, I was just different. I think that's part of every writer's little revenge. You think, 'I'm not a blonde, blue-eyed cheerleader but I'm going to get out of here and do something.' ~ Janine Di Giovanni

I hear you're looking for a sexy blonde to play with the Marx Brothers. Would you like to see me. I'm blonde and I'm sexy. ~ Marilyn Monroe

I'm blonde and bad. ~ Ivana Milicevic

For a moment, Pamela watched her friend. Although she was one of several hostesses who were greeting the guests, Elizabeth drew all eyes with her blonde beauty, sparkling blue eyes, and gracious manners. Feeling ~ Debra Holland

Like so many substantial citizens of America, he had married young and kept on marrying, springing from blonde to blonde like the chamois of the Alps leaping from crag to crag. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

[in regards to Chad's Nifty Over Fifty Moustache and Beard Darkener] "'Dark Bravado Blonde, Number 143.' The name alone makes my loins all aquiver."
Amber ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

Come see my mommy, Becky!" Will said and Bree stopped in her tracks. "Oh hell no!" she exclaimed staring at 'Becky'. Rebecca, the bane of Bree's existence. The blonde woman smiled mockingly at Bree. "How ya doing?" "What?" Bree asked but the question was directed at her brother and not the skank in front of her. "So how was Paris?" Rebecca asked moving right past Bree to practically press her body against Alessandro. "Seriously, what?" Bree demanded, glaring at Brian. "Hey, Alessandro. Great to see you again." "Stop talking. Stop talking now before I ram your botoxed head through this table!" Bree hissed lunging at her. Brian grabbed her quickly and held her back. "Sorry. Bree's a little bit touchy about that whole Vegas thing I guess. But hey, looks like it all worked for the best, huh?" Rebecca winked at Alessandro ~ E. Jamie

Being blonde means people decide on sight that you are much prettier and nicer than you really are, just as Americans automatically add 10 points to someone's IQ when they hear an English accent. Fact. ~ Rachel Johnson

Her fine high forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like an armorial shield, burst into lovelocks and waves and curlicues of ash blonde and gold. Her eyes were bright, big, clear, wet and shining, the colour of her cheeks was real, breaking close to the surface from the strong young pump of her heart. Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood
she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

In my room I'd barely closed my eyes when the blonde from the movie house came along and sang her whole song of sorrow just for me. I helped her put me to sleep, so to speak, and succeeded pretty well ... I wasn't entirely alone ... It's not possible to sleep alone ... ~ Louis Ferdinand Celine

No need to go to the dolphins," interjected Max Brailovsky. "One of the brightest engineers in my class was fatally attracted to a blonde in Kiev. When I heard of him last, he was working in a garage. And he'd won a gold medal for designing space-stations. What a waste! ~ Arthur C. Clarke