Hair Dryers Quotes

It's rather fun writing a female spy, because she has so much more kit. Bond never carried a hair dryer or a makeup bag. And he certainly didn't wear an uplift bra. ~ Helen Fielding

Sam Harris made that great analogy. He said, 'If someone was talking into their hair dryer and claiming that they were speaking to God, they would call Bellevue. But, take away the hair dryer, it's just praying.' ~ Bill Maher

What is lint? How does it find hair dryers and navels? ~ Augusten Burroughs

A successful argument for a government manufacturing policy has to go beyond the feeling that it's better to produce 'real things' than services. American consumers value health care and haircuts as much as washing machines and hair dryers. ~ Christina Romer

Being in a girl group, we might bicker a lot about hair dryers or straighteners, but it's never serious. We've been lucky that we get along so much, it's like having three other sisters to party with every day-it's fun! ~ Perrie Edwards

Americans threw away their communities in order to save a few dollars on hair dryers and plastic food storage tubs, never stopping to reflect on what they were destroying. ~ James Howard Kunstler

I hate it. I just do. That [artificial turf], local news, the IRS, and hair dryers are the four worst inventions of the century. ~ Beano Cook

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I look at him ... and I remember how it was when I kissed him and felt that love. It makes me want that back. I want to feel it again. I want to return to it. Other times though ... other times, I'm so scared. I listen to these guys ... and to Jerome ... and then the doubts gnaw at me. I can't get them out of my head. We've been sleeping together, you know. Literally. It hasn't been a problem so far, but sometimes I lie awake watching him, thinking this can't last. The longer it does ... I feel like ... like I'm standing on a high wire, with Seth at one end and me at the other. We're trying to reach each other, but one misstep, one breeze, one side-glance, and I'll fall over the edge. And keep falling and falling."
Carter leaned toward me and brushed the hair away from the side of my face. "Don't look down then," he whispered. ~ Richelle Mead

Pale brows, still hands and dim hair,
I had a beautiful friend
And dreamed that the old despair
Would end in love in the end ... ~ William Butler Yeats

Oh, would you look at this, now," she said, pointing at a hole in her sage-green velvet couch. Never mind the brain and hair on it, she could clean those off with a stiff brush. And never mind the point-blank gunshot to the face she'd absorbed. It was the bullet hole in her couch that pissed her off. ~ Christopher Buehlman

Nothing is ever good enough," he said. He combed my hair with his fingers. "I feel like I'm putting rags on porcelain. I barely tolerate the things you do wear. ~ C.L.Stone

It was common knowledge that big, bad city boys spent the bulk of their time sleeping around, coiffing their hair and posting pictures of food on the internet. ~ Gena Showalter

Her hair is smoldering. Her face was smudged with soot. She had a cut on her arms, her dress was torn, and she was missing a boot. Beautiful. ~ Rick Riordan

You turn up in the morning, you get through hair and make-up, and then you are on set working until it's time to go home. And I love that. Coming from the theater, you just turn up and you're ready for whatever happens. That energy really appeals to me. ~ Andre Holland

I'd love to go back to Broadway; I'd love to do animation; I'd love to do hair and make-up campaigns because I love hair and makeup - and, I'd love to do film. I mean, there are a lot of doors I'd love to open up! ~ Brooke Elliott

I take off my shirt, I show you.
I shaved the hair out under my arms.
I roll up my pants, I scraped off the hair
on my legs with a knife, getting white.

My hair is the color of chopped maples.
My eyes dark as beans cooked in the south.
(Coal fields in the moon on torn-up hills)

Skin polished as a Ming bowl
showing its blood cracks, its age, I have hundreds
of names for the snow, for this, all of them quiet.

In the night I come to you and it seems a shame
to waste my deepest shudders on a wall of a man.

You recognize strangers,
think you lived through destruction.
You can't explain this night, my face, your memory.

You want to know what I know?
Your own hands are lying. ~ Carolyn Forche

Admit it  -  
you wanted the end

with a serpentine
greed. How to negotiate

that strangling
mist, the fibrous

whisper?

To cease to exist
and to die

are two different things entirely.

But you knew this,
didn't you?

Some days you knelt on coins
in those yellow hours.

You lit a flame

to your shadow
and ate

scorpions with your naked fingers.

So touched by the sadness of hair
in a dirty sink.

The malevolent smell
of soap.

When instead of swallowing a fistful
of white pills,

you decided to shower,

the palm trees
nodded in agreement,

a choir
of crickets singing

behind your swollen eyes.

The masked bird
turned to you

with a shred of paper hanging
from its beak.

At dusk,
hair wet and fragrant,

you cupped a goat's face

and kissed
his trembling horns.

The ghost?

It fell prostrate,
passed through you

like a swift
and generous storm. ~ Erika L. Sánchez

Every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between - does it matter they're the color of your hair - or they still fall in my memory? ... ~ John Geddes

Beautiful, long, loose hair was a rarity, an indication of a woman's position, her status, the sign of a free woman, a woman who belonged to herself. The sign of an unusual woman – because "normal" maidens wore their hair in plaits, "normal" married women hid theirs beneath a caul or a coif. Women of high birth, including queens, curled their hair and styled it. Warriors cut it short. Only druids and magicians – and whores – wore their hair naturally so as to emphasise their independence and freedom. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Tufts of hair stuck out of my head in all directions, like I'd been cow-licked by a drunken heifer. ~ Allen Eskens

Next time you bend over a table, I'm going to wrap all that hair around my fist and pull your head back. I want to watch your eyes glaze over when I fuck you into oblivion. ~ Tessa Bailey

A year or two younger than his eminently practical friend, Mr. Bounderby looked older; his seven or eight and forty might have had the seven or eight added to it again, without surprising anybody. He had not much hair. One might have fancied he had talked it off; and that what was left, all standing up in disorder, was in that condition from being constantly blown about by his windy boastfulness. ~ Charles Dickens

The long hair fits my physical appearance, but the short hair fits my personality. ~ Efrat Cybulkiewicz

One of the more surreal days I've ever had in the recording studio was Martin Fry teaching Hugh Grant his old dance moves. Showing him how to do the hair-flip and the point, and all these sort of trademark moves of his. ~ Adam Schlesinger

Hello, Harry!" she said.
"Er - my name's Barny," said Harry, flummoxed.
"Oh, have you changed that too?" she asked brightly.
"How did you know - ?"
"Oh, just your expression," she said.
Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you got over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant. At least there were no radishes dangling from her ears. ~ J.K. Rowling

I was happy with myself before – with my little life. But this is different. It feels like I'm on the edge of a mountain cliff, the wind whipping my hair, the sun blinding – but there is no fear. Only exhilaration, pure and right. I'm not going to fall. I can't.
Because Henry has shown me how to fly. ~ Emma Chase

Honor was a luxury item, like hair pomade and snuff. Its only purpose was to show the world that you could afford to be impractical, that you had enough money to behave in a way that was compatible with some ludicrous code instead of acting out of self-preservation like the rest of humanity. ~ Cat Sebastian

And so a pattern develops: wake, work cry. sleep. I can't even escape him in my dreams. Gray burning eyes, his lost look, his hair burnished and bright and bright all haunt me. And the music ... so much music-I cannot bear to hear any music. I am careful to avoid it at all costs. Even the jingles in commercials make me shudder. ~ E.L. James

Her hair is ridiculous," I said.
"I know. That was the only thing I said about her that was true. When you say nasty things about people, you should never say the true ones, because you can't really fully and honestly take those back, you know? I mean, there are highlights. And there are streaks. And then there are skunk stripes. ~ John Green

The leader gives me another hard stare. He's not very old, but he's going bald. His wispy pale hair looks like it's trying to get as far away as it can from his angry face. ~ Morris Gleitzman

There was a silence and then Alice, the oldest person in the room, cleared her throat. Alice has watery eyes and fluffy white hair and favors sweatpants and sweatshirts with glittery stars and flowers. Alice lost her mother when she was ten. That is a whole lifetime without a mother, to get used to not having a mother, and yet here she is. All these years later. Still grieving.

Alice said, "Write me a letter telling me how to live for the rest of my life without you." She paused.

"That was sixty-four years ago, and I still would like to know."

I'm writing this down because someday I will be Alice, with a whole lifetime spent without a mother, a lifetime of walking around with a Grand Canyon of grief in my heart, and people should know what that feels like. ~ Kathleen Glasgow

Fuck, Ali." "That's what we're doing." He smiles. "I don't think I'll ever tire of you. I don't know what to do." That makes the two of us. To muffle his words and my rattled brain, I bend down and kiss him again. It feels so damn good with Ali deep inside of me. I won't need too much more stimulation to come again. Neither will he. He pushes himself up to meet me. All I can hear is our laboured breaths, and the slapping of our flesh together. Ali soon tenses and thrusts upwards into me again and again with full force, driving the couch across the floor, until he's spent. I move off him, and wrap my hand around myself. Ali's zonedout eyes are utterly absorbed by me as Ijerk off; his concentration consumes every inch of me when I give in to pleasuring myself and I come all over his abs. Ali's grin is precious. "Come here." We ignore the sticky mess between us. I reach down and let myself be hugged this time while I calm down from the intensity of sex. As I do that, Ali idly strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head. "You're incredible." I can say the same about him. Ali and I together feel effortless ~ A. Zukowski

This way to the widge.
Edwin started. Heavens! Up till now, she realized, she had carefully avoided forming in her mind any word for that part of a man. Even the scientific word made her vaguely uneasy; her sensibilities veered away from it. Still, she'd known immediately what Mr. Tremore referred to when he'd said *that*. His word seemed friendlier. A fond name. Were men fond of that part of themselves? It was certainly not the best part of statues; she made a point not to look there. And it changed, it grew. She'd read that astounding piece of information in a book. That was the worst part, the horror - or it had been the worst until this very moment, when it occurred to her that, goodness, a man might have hair there too. She did. Oh, something that grew larger, up and out of a tangle of hair. How disgusting.
No, no, she mustn't think of it anymore. Enough. She must think of something else.
The mustache. ~ Judith Ivory

Hammer", I finished lamely, as he waited patiently for my thoughts to find their voice, "we have got to find better words for the things we have in our hearts."
"Words seem to be weak things," he murmured into my hair, and I could only hope our hearts would prove stronger. ~ Amy Lane

Your hair is the color of dirt," she said. "It knows where it came from." "That's funny," Blue noted, "because then mine should be that color, too. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

She constantly piles up her hair with her hands and then lets it fall. She laughs, but there is no sound. It's all in silence - she is made out of yesterdays. ~ James Salter

The doorbell rang before she could get to hair and makeup. She answered to Kate and Jasmine arguing about the best way to get to her house, even though it was already too late since they were, in fact, at her house. "Hey, Kris." Jasmine ~ K.F. Breene

Kissing her to keep her quiet was the best idea that he'd had all week. One hand drifted into her loose hair as she responded to each kiss, while the other caught her waist and held her close to him. ~ Elaine White

Taking care of you," he said mildly. "I'm getting you ready for bed right now. And if you start throwing up all of that poison you drank tonight, I'll take you to the bathroom and hold your hair out of your face for you. ~ R.K. Lilley

The way his hair draped in a sideways S. Flawless and secure. A wish blown off a dry dandelion. ~ C.D. Reiss

Woe is Merit, the immortal vampire with the never-gray hair and long legs and hot blond boyfriend. ~ Chloe Neill

But I figure passion's like the wind in the trees out there. Blows hard for a while and feels strong and clean while it's blowing and maybe it even blows so long and hard that you start living with it. It feels like the wind's a part of you, like it's essential, if you know what I mean, something you can hardly imagine life without. But it's got to pass. So you can get on with things without all the confusion of that wind in your hair. ~ Jack Ketchum

He crowded right up into her space, pressed his body against hers - trapping her against the glass of the door behind her, plunged his hands into her hair until he was cupping the nape of her neck, and devoured her lips with his. ~ Laura Kaye

You're beautiful, Sid,' he says, pushing my hair out of my face. 'And I never said it at first because it seemed so obvious to me, so easy. I didn't say it because I never wanted you to think the things I say to you are just things. Empty compliments to get in your pants. I wanted the things I say to you to be extraordinary, because that's what you are to me. Extraordinary. And I'm so sorry I didn't say it sooner, because I think you need to hear it. You were beautiful a year ago and you're beautiful now. ~ Colleen Clayton

The next thing she knew, he'd turned her so her back was against one of the wider trees. He stroked the hair back from her jaw and kissed her, his mouth hot and hungry. She returned the intensity, her arms around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, her body pressed against him as if just that could ease the ache coursing through her. His hands molded her waist, bringing her closer, his tongue stroked between her lips in a rhythm that made every nerve sing. ~ M.J. Fredrick

Product Warning
If this book were a medication with a label, it would read something like this:
Side Effects Include but Are Not Limited to
renewed sense of self-esteem
increased motivation in all areas of life
You may also lose weight, fall in love, leave a bad marriage, create a better one, have closer relationships with your family, or find the job of your dreams.
Some Users Have experienced
a kick in their step
a swing in their hips
a twinkle in their eye
Hair-tossing (commercial-style) is common, but seek medical attention if you pinch a nerve or can't stop doing it. ~ Stacy London

How about some perfume?" Carol asked, moving toward her with the bottle. She touched Therese's forehead with her fingers, at the hairline where she had kissed her that day.

"You remind me of the woman I once saw," Therese said, "somewhere off Lexington. Not you but the light. She was combing her hair up." Therese stopped, but Carol waited for her to go on. Carol always waited, and she could never say exactly what she wanted to say. "Early one morning when I was on the way to work, and I remember it was starting to rain, she floundered on. "I saw her in a window." She really could not go on, about standing there for perhaps three or four minutes, wishing with an intensity that drained her strength that she knew the woman, that she might be welcome if she went to the house and knocked on the door, wishing she could do that instead of going on to her job at the Pelican Press.

"My little orphan," Carol said.

Therese smiled. There was nothing dismal, no sting in the word when Carol said it. ~ Patricia Highsmith

I sang softly and the melody and lyrics filled the air as I tried to tune out the machine that cut away his love and joy, his beautiful long hair. I didn't look away from his eyes even for a second, trying to tell him... I'm right here no matter what…while trying hard not to fall apart. ~ Maayan Nahmani

Aching familiar in a way that made me wish I was still eight. Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders, Judy Blume, in bed by nine thirty. ~ Jenny Han

She felt hot tears soaking his shirt as she began to sob. "Forgive you? What king asks forgiveness of a slave?"
"Avin…" he gently pushed her away. "I have wronged you. Terribly."
"Yes," she said sadly. "But we both know it cannot be reversed. Not now. To do so will only throw Windbourne back in turmoil." She wiped away tears with the back of her hand and looked towards the window. "I can no longer love these people after what they did, but I can acknowledge that they have suffered enough. The long winter was not their fault, but neither was the lie that made them angry. And now simple people have been promised a humbled queen, and you must deliver."
He sighed. "It is too much to ask," he said.
"Then don't." Avin gave him the smallest, and saddest of smiles.
"You are the king," she said. "So train me." The tears came then, and she softened in his arms. "Save me, Xander, lest I never feel again."
"I am sorry," he said into her hair. "I am sorry I didn't come. I am sorry I was not the one to kill your father for the hurt he caused you. I am sorry that I caused you even more. I should have known better. I should have never believed the worst." He put his forehead against hers. "Let me make it better, my love. ~ Ava Sinclair

Marlee, what are you doing? Get under a tent before you burn your skin."
She gave me a polite smile. "I'm happy here."
"No, really," I said, putting a hand around her arm. "You'll look like my hair. ~ Kiera Cass

Jace's ears were ringing with a harsh, tinny sound. He felt dizzy. "Even Valentine," he said, "even Valentine would never do that - " "Please," said Sebastian. "Do you really think my father won't go through with what he's planned?" "Our father," Jace said. Sebastian glanced down at him. His hair was a white halo; he looked like the sort of bad angel who might have followed Lucifer out of heaven. "Pardon me," he said, with some amusement. "Are you praying?" "No. I said our father. I meant Valentine. Not your father. Ours." For ~ Cassandra Clare

I am forced
outside myself to
mount the light and ride joined with Hope.
Through all the bright hours
I cling to expectation, until
darkness comes to reclaim me
as its own. Hope fades, day is gone
into its irredeemable place
and I am thrown back into the familiar
bonds of disconsolation.
Gloom crawls around
lapping lasciviously
between my toes, at my ankles,
and it sucks the strands of my
hair. It forgives my heady
fling with Hope. I am
joined again into its
greedy arms.
from A Plagued Journey ~ Maya Angelou

When they finally left the bed, they were giddy. Christopher made a project of bathing her, drying her, even brushing her hair. She brought his robe and sat beside the bathtub as he washed. Occasionally she leaned downward to steal a kiss. They invented endearments for each other. Small marital intimacies that meant nothing and everything. They were collecting them, just as they were collecting words and memories, all of it containing special resonance for the two of them.
Beatrix turned down all the lamps except the one on the night table. "Time for bed," she murmured.
Christopher stood at the threshold, watching his wife slip beneath the covers, her hair falling in a loose braid over one shoulder. She gave him the look that by now had become familiar…patiently encouraging. A Beatrix look.
A lifetime with such a woman was not nearly enough.
Taking a deep breath, Christopher made a decision.
"I want the left side," he said, and turned down the last lamp.
He got into bed with his wife, taking her into his arms.
And together they slept until morning. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I looked at Tristan, stunned.
"You did this," I paused. "For me?" I watched Tristan's
expression carefully. He leaned forward. His dark brown hair fell near his eyes and under the simple lighting from the candles, they glowed. Everything looked beautiful and magical, and he'd done
all this for me and Eric?
"For you," he whispered. ~ Angela McPherson

There were pictures on the walls, all of them dime-store prints of Jesus. In all of them Jesus had blue eyes and wore pale blue robes and had long blond hair and a neat blond beard. He looked more like a Malibu surfer than a Jew from two thousand years ago. ~ Lee Child