Friston Hair Quotes

He has wet dreams and moans dirty things about chest hair."
"That was one time." Okay, more like six times. ~ T.J. Klune

No, I don't care what's in your hair,
I just wanna know what's on your mind ~ Tyler Joseph

Finnick!" Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman
dark tangled hair, sea green eyes
runs toward us in nothing but a sheet. "Finnick!" And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.
A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love. ~ Suzanne Collins

He felt the full warmth of that pleasure from which the proud shut themselves out; the pleasure which not only goes with humiliation, but which almost is humiliation. Men who have escaped death by a hair have it, and men whose love is returned by a woman unexpectedly, and men whose sins are forgiven them. Everything his eye fell on it feasted on, not aesthetically, but with a plain, jolly appetite as of a boy eating buns. He relished the squareness of the houses; he liked their clean angles as if he had just cut them with a knife. The lit squares of the shop windows excited him as the young are excited by the lit stage of some promising pantomime. He happened to see in one shop which projected with a bulging bravery on to the pavement some square tins of potted meat, and it seemed like a hint of a hundred hilarious high teas in a hundred streets of the world. He was, perhaps, the happiest of all the children of men. For in that unendurable instant when he hung, half slipping, to the ball of St. Paul's, the whole universe had been destroyed and re-created. ~ G.K. Chesterton

So, what's the big emergency, princess? You and ice-boy look fine to me, and the Nevernever isn't crumbling around us. What's going on?"
"I'm pregnant, Puck," I said quietly, and watched his eyebrows shoot into his hair. Briefly,I explained what had happened at Elysium, the oracle's mysterious appearance and invitation, and Grimalkin's instruction to meet him at the Wishing Tree. By the time I was done, Puck was still staring at me openmouthed, struck mute for maybe the second time in his life, and I would've laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.
"Oh," he finally managed. "That's, uh ... Wow. That's not something you hear every day. Not exactly what I was expecting, though the entire prophecy thing does get old after a while." He shook himself, seeming to regain his composure, and glanced at Ash. "So, it's the ever so popular Firstborn Child of Doom prophecy, huh, ice-boy? How very cliche. Why can't it be the third nephew twice removed who's fated to destroy the world? ~ Julie Kagawa

'I scrape under a nail and I pull out dirt. I pull off an overlay and I smell urine. It's the rot of their lives seeping into their nailbeds, you see? They can fix their hair and paint their nails and run on a treadmill until they're anorexia's poster child, but they can't fix their lives ... lives of rotting perfection.' ~ Vicki Pettersson

I used to love to come to the ballpark. Now I hate it. Every day becomes a little tougher because of all this. Writers, tape recorders, microphones, cameras, questions and more questions. Roger Maris lost his hair the season he hit sixty-one. I still have all my hair, but when it's over, I'm going home to Mobile and fish for a long time. ~ Hank Aaron

The fairy- again, Wendy assumed- was an angry tinkling ball of light with the prettiest girl imaginable inside. Diminutive but... solid, with a scandalous lack of decorous dress. All she wore was a ragged green shift which barely covered her hips and thighs and breasts and was gathered dangerously over only one shoulder. This was both shocking and delightful; it made the tiny creature resemble statues of ancient nymphs and nereids Wendy had seen. Her hair was even done up in classical style, a goddess-like bun of hair so golden it glowed. Tiny pointed ears curved their way through the few dangling tresses. Her eyes were enormous and not even remotely human: they were far apart and glaring.
The crowning glory was, of course, a pair of delicate iridescent wings sprouting from her back. Their shape was somewhere between butterfly and dragonfly. They were clear as glass and thin as onion skin. ~ Liz Braswell

And Ken said I can't marry you."
Jack felt his heart jump in his chest. He glanced at his sleeping brother. "Did he say why?"
"Yes." She kept her voice sober. "He said you have to ask me properly."
Relief made him weak. His pulse beat at his temples, throbbed in his neck. For one moment his fingers closed in her hair in a tight fist. "Properly? If I ask, you might say no, so I'm thinking we'll just start off right and I'll tell you and we'll get the thing done."
"Get the thing done?" Briony echoed.
Ken snorted aloud. "Jack, I'll take over watch and you get some sleep. I think you fried your brain up there on the roof."
"Pipe down over there." Jack said. "You're already stirring up trouble."
"Get the thing done?" Briony repeated slowly. "The thing being what exactly?"
"The ceremony. The paperwork. Whatever the hell it takes to make it legal."
Briony sat up and glared at him. "Take your 'it' and shove it, Jack."
"There's no need ti be getting upset, Briony. We can't exactly go around with a bunch of kids and not do whatever the hell it is one does to make it legal."
"Whatever the hell it takes to make what legal?"
He shrugged. "How the hell would I know? I've never done this before. Sleeping together I guess."
"So you are going to marry me so it's legal to sleep with me?"
"This isn't coming out right."
"You think?"
"Don't get upset, baby,. I don't understand why you're getting upset. ~ Christine Feehan

Do you want to be saved?" I asked.
Keri cocked an eyebrow. "Like Jesus?"
"Like Lancelot."
"I hang my hair out the window every night, waiting for some dude to climb up. ~ Aaron Starmer

a. The chocolate in six (6) 100 gram subsamples contains an average of 60 or more insect fragments per 100 grams.

or

b. Any one subsample contains 90 or more insect fragments, even if the overall average of all the subsamples is less than 60.
2. Rodent Filth

a. The chocolate in six (6) 100 gram subsamples contains an average of more than 1.0 rodent hair per 100 grams, regardless of the size of the hairs or hair fragments. ~ FDA Food Regulations

People bring up my hair quite a bit. It's strategically tousled. The flatiron is the key. ~ Ryan Seacrest

Alec isn't worried. He isn't bothered by his actions or who he hurts." She came closer, her long blond hair curling around her neck and shoulder. "And worst of all, he is content with his actions. You?" She smiled around an airy laugh. "You're running from yourself. From anyone who sees good in you. Because you're struggling with it, with the belief that you're the same, that you've done bad things. That guilt, that shame? That should be your compass, Cole. But I don't need a compass to know you're not the same as Alec. And I wish my belief in you was enough to convince you. The actions of man speak to what's in his heart." She pressed a hand to his chest, right over the four-valved organ pumping blood through his veins. And it seemed in a hurry right now. "Read what's there, Cole. ~ Ronie Kendig

When a sudden ray of sun or a moonbeam falls on a dreary street, it makes no difference what it illumines-a broken bottle on the ground, a fading flower in a field, or the flaxen blonde hair of a child's head. The object is transformed and the viewer is transfixed. Celebrate that moment of beauty and take it with you in your memory. It is God's gift to you. ~ Luci Swindoll

I was breaking down, wanting to fade away and cry, yet I feared ever being invisible again. My head lowered to conceal my humiliation behind a curtain of hair where I trembled as if sobbing.
"Hey, Gwen, it's okay. It's okay. Calm down."
I yearned to feel Daniel's soft touch meet my temple and then trace along my ear, brushing back the hairs from my face. What I wanted was the comfort his caress always afforded me. He moved as if he would grant my wish, realizing at the last moment that neither of us possessed the power to touch the other.
"Your hair, Gwen."
I refused to do what he wanted. I didn't care for him to see the shame plainly visible in my features. But the next thing I knew, his blue eyes were staring up at me from the ground, a glare reflecting off his glasses. The guy had dropped his books to fall over for a clear view of my face. His desperation made me laugh.
"It's going to be okay, Gwen, I promise."
- from "Phantom's Veil ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Even now, when I go over to my mother's house and dig out the old tracksuit tops I wore, it makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I like to think i am part of a special family. I am no longer connected with the club on a daily basis, but i'm delighted with every win and sad about every defeat. ~ Steve Perryman

I have a theory about war mages," I said. "The more powerful they are, the worse the hair. ~ Karen Chance

He thinks that there's no reason to eat breakfast unless Eleanor is there to give him that silly wide grin of hers. He wants to have an argument with her just so he can kiss her into a good mood again. He wants to sleep with her every night, see her holding a baby with brandy-colored hair like hers ... He wants her forever ... He can't bear the idea that she might ever love another man. ~ Eloisa James

A herd of old men with shriveled balls and spotted skin and young men with ridiculous hair. ~ George R R Martin

Spare me the people who ask, 'Have you thought about ... losing weight, hiring an assistant, buying a Pentium, working with an etiquette specialist, coloring your hair? ~ Susan RoAne

People claimed witches were nightmares, dreams, but Eva felt they were closer to plants; wild magic grew inside of each of them, waiting to be harvested in the strands of their hair, their salt tears, their spit and blood. ~ Alicia Jasinska

Where do any of us come from in this cold country? Oh Canada, whether you admitted it or not, we come from you we come from you. From the same soil, the slugs and slime and bogs and twigs and roots. We come from the country that plucks its people out like weeds and flings them into the roadside. We grow in ditches and sloughs, untended and spindly. We erupt in the valleys and mountainsides, in small towns and back alleys, sprouting upside-down on the prairies, our hair wild as spiders' legs, our feet rooted nowhere. We grow where we are not seen, we flourish where we are not heard, the thick undergrowth of an unlikely planting. Where do we come from Obasan? We come from cemetaries full of skeletons with wild roses in their grinning teeth. We come from our untold tales that wait for their telling. We come from Canada, this land that is like every land, filled with the wise, the fearful, the compassionate, the corrupt. ~ Joy Kogawa

The biggest obstacle is that when people fall in love, they tend to seek out the qualities of their ex in the people they date afterwards. A guy will seem attractive because he has the same hair as your ex, because he dresses similarly, because he drives the same car, or because he has similar mannerisms or interests. You are liable to believe that it is those things about him that attract you; however, the truth is that those things merely remind you of being attracted. On a psychological level, those two feelings are not so incredibly different, so they are easily confused. ~ Andrew Aitken

Editors can be stupid at times. They just ignore that author's intention. I always try to read unabridged editions, so much is lost with cut versions of classic literature, even movies don't make sense when they are edited too much. I love the longueurs of a book even if they seem pointless because you can get a peek into the author's mind, a glimpse of their creative soul. I mean, how would people like it if editors came along and said to an artist, 'Whoops, you left just a tad too much space around that lily pad there, lets crop that a bit, shall we?'. Monet would be ripping his hair out. ~ E.A. Bucchianeri

Anyone who knew Violet well could tell she was thinking hard, because her long hair was tied up in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes. Violet had a real knack for inventing and building strange devices, so her brain was often filled with images of pulleys, levers, and gears, and she never wanted to be distracted by something as trivial as her hair. ~ Lemony Snicket

You're suddenly quiet."
He watched her swallow. "I don't understand how you do this to me." He leaned in slightly. His hair smelled like something flowery, like the fading scent of lilacs. "Do what?" "Your touch." "I'm not touching you, Emily." She turned around. "That's just it. It feels like you are. How do you do that? It's like you have something I can't see, that reaches out. It doesn't make sense." That startled him. She felt it. No one had ever felt it before. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

I'm proud of my short hair. I don't think I will grow it long again. ~ Sylvie Meis

How long have you known?" My body thrummed with tension.
He lifted one hand slowly and I froze. He took a lock of my short hair and rubbed it gently between his fingers. "I've always known. ~ Sara B. Larson

I'd always assumed hair was an integral part of any hairstyle. ~ Michael McClung

You want to stay here and sleep your life away? That's it?"

"If you knew what would make you happy, wouldn't you do it?" I asked her.

"See, you do want to be happy. Then why did you tell me that being happy is dumb?" she asked. "You said that to me more than once."

"Let me be dumb," I said, glugging the NyQuil. "You go be smart and tell me how great it is. I'll be here, hibernating."

Reva rolled her eyes.

"It's natural," I told her. "People used to hibernate all the time."

"People never hibernated. Where are you getting this?"

She could look really pathetic when she was outraged. She got up and stood there holding her stupid knockoff Kate Spade bag or whatever it was, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and crowned with a useless, plastic, tortoiseshell headband. She was always getting her hair blown out, her eyebrows waxed into thin, arched, parentheses, her fingernails painted various shades of pink and purple, as though all of this made her a wonderful person.

"It's not up for discussion, Reva. This is what I'm doing. If you can't accept it, then you don't have to. ~ Ottessa Moshfegh

Hair Growth Want long and luscious hair? We all know how long it can take to grow hair so here is a spell/potion to help quicken up the process. You will need: 1 clove of garlic 1 onion A pair of scissors Directions: On the night of a full moon crush up one garlic clove and one onion until it is of paste like consistency. Cut a small chunk of your hair and cover it in the garlic and onion mixture. Find a willow tree and bury the hair beside it. Each night visualize the moon shining down on the place where you buried your hair. Imagine the piece of hair growing longer and longer. Do the above visualization each night until your hair reaches your desired length. ~ Black Cat Press

Peeta," I say lightly. "You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"
"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair... it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up," Peeta says.
"Your father? Why?" I ask.
"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" Peeta says.
"What? You're making that up!" I exclaim.
"No, true story," Peeta says. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.'"
"That's true. They do. I mean, they did," I say. I'm stunned and surprisingly moved, thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta. It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing, my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think it's a waste of time. It might be because it reminds me too much of my father.
"So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent," Peeta says.
"Oh, please," I say, laughing.
"No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew - just like your mother - I was a goner," Peeta says. "Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to ta ~ Suzanne Collins

Because of my compact and muscular body composition, my short hair, and my "Johawk," I have been mistaken for a boy on many occasions. Each time it happens, it feels like I have been punched in the gut. It is extremely discouraging. ~ Joanna Lohman

She climbs a tree
And scrapes her knee
Her dress has got a tear.
She waltzes on her way to mass
And whistles on the stair.
And underneath her wimple
She has curlers in her hair!
Maria's not an asset to the abbey.

She's always late for chapel,
But her penitence is real.
She's always late for everything!
Except for every meal.
I hate to have to say it
But I very firmly feel
Maria's not an asset to the abbey!

I'd like to say a word on her behalf.
Maria makes me laugh.

How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibbertigibbet!
A will o' the wisp!
A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her,
Many a thing she ought to understand.
But how do you make her stay
And listen to all you say,
How do you keep a wave upon the sand?
Oh, how do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

When I'm with her I'm confused
Out of focus and bemused,
And I never know exactly where I am.
Unpredictable as weather,
She's as flighty as a feather,
She's a darling,
She's a demon,
She's a lamb.

She'd out-pester any pest,
Drive a hornet from his nest,
She can throw a whirling dervish out of whirl.
She is gentle,
Rodgers & Hammerstein

I'm more attracted to glamour than natural beauty. The young Marilyn Monroe was a pretty girl in a sea of pretty girls. Then she had her hair bleached, fake eyelashes, and that's when she became extraordinary. It's that idea of what you're not born with, you can create. ~ Dita Von Teese

You look at women at the Republican convention and women at the Democratic convention. Republicans have a certain aesthetic beauty that involves more makeup, bigger hair, more lurid outfits. ~ Ron Reagan

And then she closed her eyes, and they could no longer touch her. She no longer embraced what they threatened. Linh was there, and when she reached for his hand, her own had become stiff and brittle, her arms become branches, and from her kees to her groin to her belly to her breasts came a covering, an armor of gnarled bark, and her hair, when she reached for it, had th easpect of leaves. She opened her eyes, alive, and she turned to look deeply and without fear into her boy soldier's face...
...the leader came and knelt down to look at Helen, and her mouth so full of liquid she gagged, spitting out Buddha and fragments of stone. The man picked up the small medallion and stared at her in wonder. ~ Tatjana Soli

Elizabeth," he interrupted in a husky whisper, and suddenly his eyes were smoldering as he held out his hand, sensing victory before Elizabeth ever realized she was defeated. "Come here."
Of its own accord Elizabeth's hand lifted, his fingers closed around it, and suddenly she was hauled forward; arms like steel bands encircled her, and a warm, searching mouth descended on hers. Parted lips, tender and insistent, stroked hers, molding and shaping them to fit his, and then the kiss deepened abruptly while hands tightened on her back and shoulders, caressing and possessive. A soft moan interrupted the silence, but Elizabeth didn't know the sound came from her; she was reaching up, her hands grasping broad shoulders, clinging to them for support in a world that had suddenly become dark and exquisitely sensual, where nothing mattered except the body and mouth locked hungrily to hers.
When he finally dragged his mouth from hers Ian kept his arms around her, and Elizabeth laid her cheek against his crisp white shirt, feeling his lips brush the hair atop her head. "That was an even bigger mistake than I feared it would be," he said, and then he added almost absently, "God help us both."
Strangely, it was that last remark that frightened Elizabeth back to her senses. The fact that he thought they'd gone so far that they'd both need some sort of divine assistance hit her like a bucket of ice water. She pulled out of his arms and began smoothing creases from her skirt. W ~ Judith McNaught

Angel clicked on a few more pictures on the screen, and Alex made small talk about the place. Then he finally walked away. He stopped just before walking out.

"Did Valerie say anything else to Sarah?"
Angel glanced back at him. "About what?"
"You know about that guy she's seeing."

Angel turned his attention back to the computer. "No, not really."

Alex frowned. He wasn't one of those guys, so he wasn't about to keep asking. If Angel knew anything, he'd tell him. He'd just have to wait until the rehearsal dinner.

He started back out when Angel spoke up. "I'm not sure, because she didn't actually tell me, but I overheard Sarah on the phone last night. It sounded like Valerie was telling her about him."

"Yeah, what did you hear?"

Angel looked up trying to remember. Something seemed to come to him but he hesitated. "I don't think you wanna hear it, Alex. I know I wouldn't."

Alex squeezed the doorway with his hand. What the hell could he have heard? "Tell me."

Angel shook his head and looked back at the monitor. "Only reason I caught my attentions was because I overheard Sarah ask her something about wearing lingerie."

Alex felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and his gut tightened. He banged his fist against the doorway. He didn't need to hear any more. Angel had been right that's the last thing he needed right now. He charged back out of the office, infuriated wi ~ Elizabeth Reyes

I don't feel like me unless I have my hair shaved. So even when I'm an old lady, I'm going to have it. ~ Sinead O'Connor

What happens when I touch you, Kiera?" His tone, almost a growl, was getting as suggestive as his words [...] He ran a hand down his shirt, as he answered his own question. "Your pulse races, your breath quickens." He bit his lip and started simulating heavy breathing [...] "Your body trembles, your lips part, your eyes burn." He closed his eyes and exhaled with a soft groan, then reopened his eyes and suggestively inhaled through his teeth. [...] "Your body aches...everywhere."
He closed his eyes again and exactly mimicked a low moan that I had made with him on several occasions. He tangled a hand back through his own hair, in a way that I had done time and again, and ran his other hand back up his chest, in a way that was only too familiar with me. [...] He swallowed and made a horribly enticing noise as he let his mouth fall open in a pant. "Oh...God...please..." He mimicked in a low groan, as his hands started running down his body, towards his jeans... ~ S.C. Stephens

Next to my green eyes, my blond hair is definitely my best feature. So, out of obligation to all the blondes before me (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, the many Barbies I have loved and tortured), I tend to spend hours getting it right. You know, so as not to let down the team. ~ Sarah Strohmeyer

She ascends from the ocean in a way that is nothing short of celestial. The water follows her in a throne, elevating her to the height of my ship. Ocean-soaked hair runs down the length of her body, and she retains the otherworldly glow that always seems to illuminate her moony skin. Only now she is something more than just a siren, or a girl masquerading as a pirate.
She is a goddess. ~ Alexandra Christo

Through the light splaying off the roof, Angela's falling blonde hair looked cream-colored, intricately stitched together like a veil. ~ Greg Metcalf

I get more distracted by hair or a really bad wig than I do costumes any day of the week. ~ Colleen Atwood

Do I care for her? No. She tried to kill me and I don't especially like what she does with her hair. ~ Lauren DeStefano