Hair Dye Quotes

The Ad♥rkable Manifesto

1. We have nothing to declare but our dorkiness.
2. Jumble sales are our shopping malls.
3. Better to make cookies than be a cookie-cutter.
4. Suffering doesn't necessarily improve you but it does give you something to blog about.
5. Experiment with Photoshop, hair dye, nail polish and cupcake flavours but never drugs.
6. Don't follow leaders, be one.
7. Necessity is the mother of customisation.
8. Puppies make everything better.
9. Quiet girls rarely make history.
10. Never shield your oddness, but wear your oddness like a shield. ~ Sarra Manning

My hair had been dyed blonde for 'Dredd.' After 'Dredd,' I was really fried because of the blonde hair dye, and so I cut it into a bob with bangs and that's how it was during 'Being Flynn.' ~ Olivia Thirlby

Jacob: 'So have you heard that in seventy years there won't be any gingers left on Earth?'

Jules: 'Really? Huh. Nature. Awesome.'

Sam: 'Actually, it's not true. It was some bogus report cooked up by a hair-dye company to get some extra press.'

Jacob: 'Sure it was, Fanta-pants.'

Ava: 'He's right. The recessive gene that causes red hair is totally able to skip generations, so redheads won't die out due to genetics.'

Sam: 'Thank you, Ava. It's nice to know that someone around here is sensible.'

Ava: 'Of course, redheads might become extinct because they find it so hard to get laid... ~ Lili Wilkinson

There used to be a thing or a commodity we put great store by. It was called the People. Find out where the People have gone. I don't mean the square-eyed toothpaste-and-hair-dye people or the new-car-or-bust people, or the success-and-coronary people. Maybe they never existed, but if there ever were the People, that's the commodity the Declaration was talking about, and Mr. Lincoln. ~ John Steinbeck

Nothing is so sad, in my opinion, as the devastation wrought by age.
My poor friend. I have described him many times. Now to convey to you the difference. Crippled with arthritis, he propelled himself about in a wheelchair. His once plump frame had fallen in. He was a thin little man now. His face was lined and wrinkled. His moustache and hair, and hair, it is true, were still of a jet black colour, but candidly, though I would not for the world have hurt his feelings by saying so to him, this was a mistake. There comes a moment when hair dye is only too painfully obvious. There had been a time when I had been surprised to learn that the blackness of Poirot's hair came out of a bottle. But now the theatricality was apparent and merely created the impression that he wore a wig and had adorned his upper lip to amuse children! ~ Agatha Christie

O, elixir of youth, thy name is hair dye. ~ E.A. Bucchianeri

Cole!" Cassandra smacked him on the shoulder.
"Wha-?" When he opened his mouth all you could see was half-chewed goo.
"How old are you?" I demanded. I threw shrimp at him and it got stuck in his tangle of wig hair. Bergman fished it out, wiped it off, and put it back on the serving dish.
"Now, thats disgusting," said Cassandra.
"Children!" Vayl's voice boomed in our ears, loud and sudden enough to make us all jump guiltily. "I trust you are all preforming actual work right now."
"Chill out, Vayl," I replied. "Bergman is just conducting and experiment to see how vampires respond to ingesting brown hair dye."
"That makes me curious, Vayl," said Cole in a sticky, goodie-between-the-gums voice that reminded me of Winnie the Pooh after a major honey binge. "Have you ever colored your hair? You know blonds have more fun."
"Not when they are in the hospital. ~ Jennifer Rardin

In the first two years of my career, there were a lot of restraints on what I could do. I couldn't wear certain colors of lipstick, like bright pink, dark pink or red; [my lips] had to be natural. Eventually, I stopped communicating with certain people at the label, and did exactly what I wanted to do. And that was to cut my hair, dye it black, change my clothes, change my sound. Really to just express myself. ~ Rihanna

One odd thing Yencken noticed was how much blonder the nation had become since he was last there. According to official statistics over 10 million packets of hair dye were sold in 1934 ~ Julia Boyd

To avoid ignorance and bullying, I've had to hide the fact that I'm a troll. You have no idea how much time and money I've spent on electrolysis and hair dye and reconstructive surgery so I can look like this. ~ Jon Cryer

In these days of physical fitness, hair dye, and plastic surgery, you can live much of your life without feeling or even looking old. But then one day, your knee goes, or your shoulder, or your back, or your hip. Your hot flashes come to an end; things droop. Spots appear. Your cleavage looks like a peach pit. If your elbows faced forward, you would kill yourself. You're two inches shorter than you used to be. You're ten pounds fatter and you cannot lose a pound of it to save your soul. Your hands don't work as well as they once did and you can't open bottles, jars, wrappers, and especially those gadgets that are encased tightly in what seems to be molded Mylar. If you were stranded on a desert island and your food were sealed in plastic packaging, you would starve to death. You take so many pills in the morning you don't have room for breakfast.
You lose close friends and discover one of the worst truths of old age: they're irreplaceable. People who run four miles a day and eat only nuts and berries drop dead. People who drink a quart of whiskey and smoke two packs of cigarettes a day drop dead. You are suddenly in a lottery, the ultimate game of chance, and someday your luck will run out. Everybody dies. There's nothing you can do about it. Whether or not you eat six almonds a day. Whether or not you believe in God. ~ Nora Ephron

There's a reason why forty, fifty, and sixty don't look the way they used to, and it's not because of feminism, or better living through exercise. It's because of hair dye. In the 1950's only 7 percent of American women dyed their hair; today there are parts of Manhattan and Los Angeles where there are no gray-haired women at all. ~ Nora Ephron

I look fine. I've had no surgery apart from an operation I had decades ago to remove the fat under my eyes. My mum looked 30 when she was 60, so I guess I owe it all to genes and hair dye. ~ David Cassidy

If youth was sold in a bottle of hair dye, we would all get in line. ~ Jan Rogers

All of them are the same type; girls with overprocessed hair and too much makeup and way too much access to Daddy's credit cards. Girls who, if you took away the designer labels, hair dye and cover-up, wouldn't be more than average-looking, but with all that stuff look too plastic to be pretty. ~ Hannah Harrington

I suck thoughtfully on the word "temporary". It could be my time with him is as temporary as hair dye, or an adrenaline rush. I decide I'll take either one. ~ Tarryn Fisher

As a matter of fact I'd had my hair dyed a marvelous shade of pale red so popular with Parisian tarts that season. ~ Elaine Dundy

Honestly, I'd rather be anywhere else. Even home, where my dad begins almost every conversation with, "You should lose the black clothes and wear something with color." Puh-lease. Like I want to look like every Barbie clone in Hell High, a.k.a. Oklahoma's insignificant Haloway High School. Ironically, Dad doesn't appreciate the bright blue streaks in my originally blond/now-dyed-black hair. Go figure. That's color, right? ~ Gena Showalter

I don't think I've ever gotten any significant thing I wanted. You have no idea how weird it is to envision things and have them come to nothing. No vision has ever come true, no promise has ever been kept. But then there was you, and you were the promise that would obliterate all the disappointments of the past. Everything about you insisted on it. Your color, your hair, the way light projects from every part of you. You were the sun that would burn away all the putrid broken promises of the world. ~ Dave Eggers

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

Everybody had a good year
Everybody let the hair down
Everybody pulled their socks up
Everybody put their foot down
Everybody had a wet dream
Everybody saw the sun shine, oh yeah ~ The Beatles

The hair on your head affects people and is a testament to the world about who you are.
- Bonnie Foreshaw (Tabatha Rowley's story) ~ Wally Lamb

Seem at all surprising. It was just like Marlow. It was accepted in silence. No one took the trouble to grunt even; and presently he said, very slow - I was thinking of very old times, when the Romans first came here, nineteen hundred years ago - the other day ... Light came out of this river since - you say Knights? Yes; but it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday. Imagine the feelings of a commander of a fine - what d'ye call 'em? - trireme in the Mediterranean, ordered suddenly to the north; run overland across the Gauls in a hurry; put in charge of one of these craft the legionaries, - a wonderful lot of handy men they must have been too - used to build, apparently ~ Joseph Conrad

There is little joy in those first moments of recognition- for the reality is that most encounters of such depth, most first glances of love come to nothing. And while the sincerity of that rare moment when your heart is bursting should be the signal to fling yourself on the ground in the path of this stranger, it's the depth of such sincerity that paralyses you, holds you back from the silence of phrases like "hello" and "good morning."
And as they pass, granting only single, torturous details like fingers upon the handle of an umbrella, or a hair pin bearing the weight of a twist, or a wool collar beaded with pearls of rain- there is only one thing you could ever say that would be true, that would make them stop walking and turn to face you.
But such a thing is unsayable. ~ Simon Van Booy

It was difficult to not compare the two men as they stood together. Mr. Beaufort was certainly dashing, with his stylish golden hair and the flair of his dress. But seeing him next to Philip, his appeal faded greatly in my mind. For it was obvious, comparing them side by side, that Mr. Beaufort was like a set of paste jewels - flashy on the outside but really an imposter, with nothing of great value within. Philip, on the other hand, shone like a real gem - without even trying. His clothes were just as well-made as Mr. Beaufort's, but he wore them with a natural, athletic grace, and he didn't employ any extreme fashions to create an impression. He was purely elegant, naturally, without thought or planning, and upon looking at them, I found that I would infinitely prefer the real gem to the imposter. ~ Julianne Donaldson

Someone in our family had taken to wiping his or her ass on the bath towels. What made this exceptionally disturbing was that all our towels were fudge-colored. You'd be drying your hair when, too late, you noticed an unmistakable odor on your hands, head, and face. ~ David Sedaris

The fact that Cooper Dayton was running down the side streets of Bethesda and not driving back to D.C. by now was proof that his father had been dead wrong. His haircut was plenty professional. Too professional, even. How else could Ben Pultz have made him as a federal agent from thirty feet away and taken off running? Not from his jeans and T-shirt. Not from the weapons carefully hidden under his intentionally oversized jacket. It had to be the bureau-regulation hair. Apparently Pultz didn't think he looked like a "boy band reject," though Cooper doubted his dad, Sherriff Dayton, would be swayed by the opinion of a fleeing homicide suspect. ~ Charlie Adhara

I brought you a ring." It was made of warm, smooth wood. "What does it do?" I asked. "It keeps secrets," she said. I held it to my ear. Auri shook her head seriously, her hair swirling around her. "It doesn't tell them, it keeps them." She stepped close to me and took the ring, sliding it onto my finger. "It's quite enough to have a secret," she chided me gently. "Anything more would be greedy." "It fits," I said, somewhat surprised. "They're your secrets," she said, as if explaining something to a child. "Who else would it fit? ~ Patrick Rothfuss

It took us a lot of man hours to get that bloody white hair out, so it's good to get rid of it. ~ Tom Felton

Her black brows, her reddish-tawny hair and the pure red and white of her complexion defied the searching decomposing radiance: she might have been some fabled creature whose home was in a beam of light. ~ Edith Wharton

Cade studied her for a moment, then sat forward in his chair. "Seriously, what is it about this guy? He's just a rich computer geek with good hair."

Rylann smiled. "I think there's a little more to it than that."

"Christ, you are smitten." He threw up his hands. "What is going on with everyone these days? Sam Wilkins is babbling about a meet-cute, Cameron's sneaking off to get hitched, and now you're all starry-eyed over the Twitter Terrorist. Has everyone been sneaking happy pills out of the evidence room when I'm not looking?"

"No, just some really good pot."

Cade laughed out loud at that. "You are a funny one, Pierce. I'll say that."

"So does that mean we're still on for Starbucks later today?"

He studied her suspiciously. "You're not going to want to talk about Kyle Rhodes the whole time, are you?"

"Actually, yes. And then we'll go shoe shopping together and get mani-pedis." She threw him a get-real look. "We'll talk about the same stuff we always talk about."

With a grin, he finally nodded. "Fine. Three o'clock, Pierce. I'll swing by your office ~ Julie James

She let her body go limp, moaned, and combed her fingers through his hair, ran them over his shoulders. "Your jacket," she murmured and tugged at it. When he shifted to shrug free, she had him.

It was a basic tenet of hand-to-hand. Never lower your guard. She scissored, shoved, and pinned him with a knee to the crotch and an elbow to the throat.

"You're tricky." He calculated he could dislodge the elbow, but the knee... There were some things a man didn't care to risk. He kept his eyes on hers and slowly, carefully skimmed his fingertips up her bare torso, circled her breast. "I admire that in a woman."

"You're easy." His thumb brushed lightly over her nipple, quickening her breath. "I admire that in a man."

"Well, you've got me now." He unsnapped her waistband, teased her stomach muscles to quiver. "Be kind."

She grinned, levered her elbow away to brace her hands on either side of his head. "I don't think so." Lowering her head, she caught his mouth with hers. ~ J.D. Robb

Not only did
I love her,
but I could tell
the universe loved
her, too.
More than others.
She was different.
After all; I would
be a fool not to
notice the way the
sunshine played with
her hair. ~ Christopher Poindexter

Negative experiences repeat as long as they remain useful to you. ~ Tawny Lara

A pin has a head, but has no hair ~ Christina Rossetti

There are no captions on red-carpet photos that say, 'This girl trained for two weeks, she went on a juice diet, she has a professional hair and makeup person, and this dress was made for her.' I just wish they'd say, 'It ain't the truth.' ~ Emilia Clarke

Education is one of the Grand Christianson Obsessions. They've been whole years my mother's kept us home for intensive private study. As a result of that, Paul will perform the first brain transplant, James will someday build a bridge across the Atlantic Ocean, Charlie – who is an actual musical genius – will probably end up writing the Great American Symphony, and I – I know a little bit about a lot of things.
I can tell you the chemical composition of the stuff your stick in your hair; how long it would take you, at just under the speed of light, to get to Alpha Centauri – and how old your body would be when you finally got there; the middle name of the third president of the United States; the amount of the present budget deficit; the author of the Brothers Karamazov, and how many feet there are in a line of trochaic heptameter. The Little Girl Who Had to Know Why, Paul used to call me. But even my mother couldn't reconcile me and math. ~ Kristen D. Randle

I'm very low maintenance. I use Simple wipes to take off my makeup, wash my hair with whatever's in the shower. ~ Amber Le Bon

Virgin, right? the voice asks again. It comes from the tall one with white-blond hair falling into his eyes. Frankie is still giggling, and my entire body goes hot and red, despite the chill in the water. If Frankie thinks she's just going to auction me off, well ... I don't know. It's kind of hard to be witty when you're trying to call forth a giant sea squid to swallow you up and drag you down to the depths of the ocean floor, never to be seen, heard from, or mocked again. ~ Sarah Ockler

Feeling your heartbeats" - I placed my hand against his chest - "reminds me of his heartbeats."
"Running my fingers through your hair" - he tangled his hands through my blonde locks, making me gasp lightly - "helps me remember her. ~ Brittainy C. Cherry

if you motherfuckers must know, I was looking up porn," Preppy said with a shrug of his shoulders. There was a rustling in the brush up ahead. A huge brown hog with wiry hair and a broken tusk darted out from its hiding place and into the clearing, making a run for his life through the trees. Preppy lifted his gun and pulled the trigger. He missed the fast moving pig and the bullet blew a huge hole into a tree stump. "But you'd be surprised how one little misspelling of the word BEASTIALITY can change the entire fucking nature of a search. ~ T.M. Frazier

When I was younger, I had terrible skin ... my mother has terrible skin. Male-pattern hair loss is starting to come in ... my dad is bald. It's so unfair; my brother's tall, has perfect skin, great hair, but I'm like the runt. ~ Russell Tovey

That guy with the silver hair, he's your dad, right?" Amber questioned, surveying the scene.
"Yes," I said, reluctant to say anything but, considering what was happening, figured was the least of my worries.
"Ooo la la. He's, like, totally diesel. Look at those arms." She went on, admiring my dad to a sickening degree.
"All right, jailbait, back off. It's practically incest."
She sucked air through her teeth. "I know," she said regretfully. "But a girl can dream. And I have a feeling he's going to be starring in a lot of them. ~ Brandi Salazar

Zoe was wearing a yello batik cotton dress, her typewriter keys bracelet, plaid sneakers, and glitter in her hair, in honor of meeting such a luminous personality as Bronwyn Gilwen. ~ Christine Brodien-Jones

Stop looking at me like that," she whispered.
"I can't." I could barely say it. I could barely breathe. I wanted to look at her for the rest of my life. Reaching a hand up, I ran just the tips of my fingers through her hair. Most of it was down, but just a few strands were pulled up away from her face. It was the perfect hair for the perfect dress, worn by the perfect girl. ~ N.K. Smith

Crossing the floor, he grabbed Syn's hair and wrenched his head back. Blood poured from a cut above one eye and out of his nose and mouth. "Tell me where the chip is, rat."
"Still on the old block?"
Furious at yet another smart-ass retort, he kidney-punched him.
Tensing with the blow, Syn sucked his breath in between his bloodied teeth and grimaced. "Who taught you to hit? Your grandmother?" He narrowed that demented dark glare on him. "The only person you're going to scare with that is a three-year-old girl."
-Uriah & Syn ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I like my hair long because I have really big ears. ~ Josh Groban

Men are like hair. You have to whip them into shape and before you know it, they don't ever stray from their rightful place." "Well, if men are anything like my hair, then I am in for a shifter that will pee on the carpet and destroy my shoes like some horrible hair days," she joked. "I've yet to meet one man who isn't a douche. ~ Milly Taiden

Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur. ~ Margaret Atwood

My mother emails me stuff about when she finds a paparazzi photo and they're like, his hair is out of control. ~ Bradley Cooper

Tell me what you and my dad were talking about."
Jay jerked away from her as if she'd just slapped him. And Violet realized that she might as well have. He sat up quickly, as if his mind had suddenly cleared from the sensuous haze, and abruptly the teasing grin was wiped clean from his face.
"Never mind," she blurted, trying to backpedal. "Forget I said anything." She wanted to go back to where they just were. But it was too late. The determined set of his jaw told her that.
"No," he said harshly. "I think we should talk about this, Violet." Even the way he said her name was suddenly hard and angry. "Your dad told me what happened today...out in the woods. He told me that you tracked down the guy who's been killing all the girls around here...that you put yourself in danger." Violet couldn't tell if he was angry or annoyed...or both. He ran his hand through his messy hair in an agitated gesture that indicated he was getting all worked up. "And it's not like it was the first time you've done that. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go, and you're the only person I know who doesn't seem to care. I don't even want to think about what could have happened to you if I hadn't shown up last night while Grady was...assaulting you." He paused as if it really was too much to think about, and then he continued to rail at her. "You can't even go to the mall safely. I made a promise to your parents, and you just wandered off without even telling me where you were going ~ Kimberly Derting

He looks gorgeous, too, the fucker. The lights are picking up and reflecting the whiteness of his teeth and making his hair look extra shiny. I see myself in the mirror that runs along the back of the bar. My hair is doing that defeated thing and my teeth are the white of an average person. ~ Cath Crowley

A dam inside my own heart opened up, and the feelings of heaviness and unease lifted like wind against the winter sky. I loved him. I loved his slow wit and his gruff demeanor and his tender disposition. I loved his endless empathy and his world-weary cynicism and his innocence. I loved that he was a walking, breathing paradox. I loved his lank hair and his iron earring and the tooth missing at the back of his mouth. I loved the way he laughed, music incomparable to any song, and the way he smiled, like you could see the child in him and the animal in him and the man in him all at once. I loved that he listened to crappy music, the kind that made me want to put my head through a wall, and I loved the charcoal stains on his knuckles and the pencils he tucked behind his ears. I loved that he told me to shut up as though I could actually say anything. I loved that he made me feel as though I could. I loved his short fingers and his rough palms and his long legs and his flat belly. I loved that he liked to read Kerouac but didn't know how to pronounce Kerouac. I loved his brown skin and his blue tattoos and his tempestuous blue eyes. I loved that he loved the land. I loved him. I loved him. Oh, God. I loved him. ~ Rose Christo

But this was like old movies, the silent theater haunted with black-and-white ghosts, silvery mouths opening to let moonlight smoke out, gestures made in silence so hushed you could hear the wind fizz the hair on your cheeks. ~ Ray Bradbury

Why is it surprising that scientists might have long hair and wear cowboy boots? In fields like neuroscience, where the events you are recording are so minute, I suspect scientists cultivate a boring, reliable image. A scientist with a reputation for flamboyance might be suspect. ~ Steven Pinker

He kissed her temple, her hair, and then her mouth again, with great passion and heartbreaking tenderness. My Love ... from the beginning of time until the end. Always and forever. You'll always be my love. Always. ~ Patricia Ryan

Ach, woman! He raked his fingers through his hair. "You want me as much as I want you."
"Assuming that's true -"
"It's true."
"- I can't. Not now."
"It's no' your time of the month. I know that."
"Ew." Valkyrie didn't have periods. "You're the only one here with a monthly cycle, werewolf."
- Lucia and Garreth MacRieve ~ Kresley Cole

I peek over the back of the couch and there she is, my goddess of death, her hair snaking out in a great black cloud, her teeth grinding hard enough to make living gums bleed. ~ Kendare Blake

Andreas had been trying to remember the words to a ribald drinking song he had heard a few weeks ago when Saluador rode up next to him. The Spaniard's horse was a hand or so taller than his own, and in keeping with the man himself, much more spirited. Andreas was tall enough to see over most crowds, but Saluador eclipsed him readily. The Spaniard kept his beard and hair short, cropped close to his head, and when he smiled, his cheeks dimpled in a way that was very disarming to the ladies. Unfortunately, Saluador had not managed how to make his ready charm extend to his eyes. The ladies found this contrast exciting and dangerous, but Andreas thought that a man who couldn't smile naturally was a man who harbored a deep and long-standing grudge. Probably against something he could never change, like God or the weather or the color purple. Which made him unpredictable. ~ Neal Stephenson

I have hair on my chest. And it's purring. ~ Jarod Kintz

The door was opening again. The seer does not like to dwell upon what he saw
entering the room: he says it might be described as a frog - the size of a man - but it had scanty white hair about its head. It was busy about the truckle-beds, but not for long. The sound of cries - faint, as if coming out of a vast distance - but, even so, infinitely appalling, reached the ear. ("The Haunted Doll's House") ~ M.R. James

He chuckled into my hair, enjoying this. I loved him terribly just then, how he puzzled through obscure scholarship and reveled in ideas, never mind that he'd called my mind hell. ~ Rachel Hartman

The immolation occurred late on a Friday morning. The lunchtime bustle was picking up as Paul descended from his office building onto the crowded street. He cut an imposing figure against the flow of pedestrians: six feet four inches, broad shouldered, clean-shaven, clothed in the matching black coat, vest, and long tie that was to be expected of New York's young professional men. His hair, perfectly parted on the left, had just begun to recede into a gentle widow's peak. He looked older than his twenty-six years. As ~ Graham Moore

I may have something to help you along... Eros!"
The winged youth raised his bow, his arrow already nocked, took aim, and loosed. Aidon caught the golden arrow and winced, his hand clamped around its head, inches from his heart. He opened his fist. Parallel wounds from the razor sharp edges closed themselves. His blood quickened as he held the golden arrow in his shaking hands.
Heart racing, his head grew light, and he shifted his stance to steady his feet underneath him. Flashes of russet hair, a soft female voice, the twirling skirt of a green linen chiton, grass-stained knees, and delicate, flower-trimmed ankles invaded his thoughts. He looked at Zeus with a mixture of bewilderment and fury. "Was that necessary?"
Zeus laughed. "We shall see. ~ Rachel Alexander

Soft puffs of warm air wafted around the corners of the side streets onto Tryon Street, as if being exhaled from some hidden lounging giant, capriciously ruffling hair and thrusting stray scraps of paper aloft, whirling them around like fall leaves. ~ Kimmery Martin

Gifford Dudley was unfairly handsome: impressively tall and well shaped around the neck and shoulders, with glossy chestnut hair tied into a short ponytail, and expressive brown eyes. And his nose. His nose. It was perfectly shaped: not too long or short, not too plump or skinny, and even the pores were discreet. There was no trace of the Dudley Nose Curse.
Praise all the gods and saints, Lord Gifford Dudley may have had an unfortunate name, but he did not have the nose. She wanted to sing. She wanted to spin around to where Edward was taking a seat in the front and tell him all about Gifford's perfect nose.
It was a miracle. A marvel. A wonder. A relief. After all, she would be expected to kiss this man by the end of the ceremony, and the last thing she needed was to lose an eye. ~ Cynthia Hand

I love my hair. But I don't even remember my original color because I started bleaching it so young. I was, like, 11. ~ Nicki Minaj