Hair Extensions Quotes

Hair extensions have become very popular in recent times, and this may be attributed to the numerous benefits that they offer. Arguably, one of the most important benefits of using hair extensions is that they guarantee instant gratification. ~ Houseofbeautifulhair.com/

Years ago, when I first started wearing hair extensions, I would get mail from young girls, or young girls would come up to me and they would say, 'Tyra you have the most beautiful hair, like I could never grow hair like that!' And I would say 'Child, this is a weave!' ~ Tyra Banks

Calling MacKenzie a mean girl is an understatement. She's a cobra with hoop earrings, blond hair extensions, and a spray-on tan. ~ Rachel Renee Russell

'Free Agents' was an awesome experience. I never play the glam girl in anything, so that was a new experience. I would walk into one of my trailers and it would be like Spanx, a spray-tan gun, and chicken cutlets. I would have hair extensions. It was hilarious. Every day felt like I was turning into an awesome drag queen. ~ Kathryn Hahn

Stealing things. I should preface this by saying I was an only child - a precocious one at that. I also said I was going to live on the moon, invent glow-in-the-dark hair extensions, ~ Jodi Picoult

Hair extensions and wigs are not the same thing. Wigs are for old ladies and drag queens. Extensions are for women who want longer hair. To be safe, never bring it up if you think a woman is wearing either. No good comes of it. ~ Jennifer Coolidge

If I looked good in 'Wolf of Wall Street,' I cannot take full credit; it was because of the hair extensions and makeup. ~ Margot Robbie

A lesser complaint: hair extensions. There are moments on 'All My Children' when half the women actors, young and old, seem to be afflicted by android Barbie creep. All those thick swatches of lifeless strands clustering lankly round ladies' necks! Like orange tanning spray, this is a fashion fad that should be put out of its misery. ~ Camille Paglia

Isaiah told him what he'd found on the Ruby's Real Beauty website. Ruby's stocked the largest, most complete inventory of human hair extensions in the South Bay area. The most highly prized were Virgin Remy. "Virgin because the girl still had her cherry?" Dodson said. "No. Virgin because the hair wasn't chemically treated," Isaiah said. "What's Remy mean?" "It means the hair was carefully cut so the cuticles and roots stayed in the same direction. Otherwise, they mow it down like weeds and throw it in a bin." Isaiah ~ Joe Ide

I did this movie about Salvador Dali a few years ago and had hair extensions and a little bob. That was incredibly bizarre. ~ Robert Pattinson

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers
she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes
and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive the strange creatures of her little sister's dream. ~ Lewis Carroll

A Hebrew knelt in the dying light, His eye was dim and cold; The hairs on his brow were silver white, And his blood was thin and old. ~ Thomas Kibble Hervey

All right then, you should know that you missed out on mocha sugar donuts."
My mouth falls open. "How'd you get those? I thought the shop didn't open that early!"
"I went out and got them last night specifically for the bus ride," Peter says. "For you and me."
Aw. I'm touched. "Well, are there any left?"
"Nope. I ate them all."
He looks so smug that I reach out and swat at his hoodie strings. "You creep," I say, but I mean it affectionately.
Peter grabs my hand mid-swat and says, "Wanna hear something funny?"
"What?"
"I think I started liking you."
I go completely still. Then I pull my hand away from his, and I start to gather my hair into a ponytail, and then I remember I don't have a hair tie. My heart is thudding in my chest and it's hard to think all of a sudden. "Stop teasing."
"I'm not teasing. Why do you think I kissed you that day at McClaren's house back in seventh grade? It's why I went along with this thing in the first place. I've always thought you were cute."
My face feels hot. "In a quirky way."
Peter grins his perfect grin. "So? I guess I must like quirky, then. ~ Jenny Han

When I talk football with my friends, I don't talk about Tom Brady's hair. I talk about how he handles the blitz, or how he runs his offense. I talk as a fan. I don't want pink jerseys, and I don't want dumbed-down content. I want to be treated as a real fan - because I am proud to be one. ~ Indra Nooyi

A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother who in turn had bequeathed it to Marilla. It was an old-fashioned oval, containing a braid of her mother's hair, surrounded by a border of very fine amethysts. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Mary bring out your umbrella -
The sun shines down on this fine, fine day
But the ashes raining down forever
Are going to turn your hair to gray.
Mary keep your oars a-steady
Sail away on the rising flood
Keep your candle at the ready
Red tides can't be told from blood.
- "Miss Mary" (a common child's clapping game, dating from the time of the blitz), from Pattycake and Beyond: A History of Play ~ Lauren Oliver

As always, just the sight of him gave her a quick inner jolt. His face was like a painting, a depiction in perfect oils of some fallen angel. The sheer beauty of it, framed by all that rich black hair, was forever a surprise to her. ~ J.D. Robb

A human head with the face and hair of a fifteen-year-old boy emerged form the body of the spider, and the abdomen filled out into something of a primate-like torso. The legs remained spindly and long. He thought he looked cool driving a car as a wolf spider. He did look cool, although it was difficult to control the car. It was important to him that he look cool while driving, although he would not have been able to articulate why. ~ Joseph Fink

Tom ran his thumb over the head, circling lightly, unable to resist leaning down to suck the tip into his mouth. Prophet inhaled sharply, threaded his fingers into Tom's hair. He closed his eyes and groaned when Tom stroked in earnest, lifting his hips off the bed in a big cat-like stretch, letting Tom take control of him again. "Think I didn't get enough?" "Think you need sleep." Prophet's eyes opened as he studied Tom's face. "You're going to put me to sleep this way." "Gonna try," Tom told him, his hand pumping Prophet's cock slowly, then faster when the man refused to tear his gaze away. He couldn't read the man's expression, not until his mouth dropped and his eyes glazed. "Yeah, like that." Prophet's voice was hoarse, body tense. His casted hand reached out to hold on to Tom's biceps, the one with the dreamcatcher. Tom caught him staring at it when he came. ~ S.E. Jakes

I knew you were too fine for me."
"No," she protested. "I'm not a highborn lady, I'm a commoner."
"There's nothing common about you." Ethan began to play with her hair, sifting his fingers through it, lifting a lock to brush the ends against his lips and cheeks. "Do you want to know why I gave you violets? They're beautiful and small, but tough enough to grow in the cracks of city pavement. More than once, I've been in some dark place and seen them clustered near a broken stoop, or at the base of a brick wall, bright as jewels. Even without sunlight or good soil, they show up to do a flower's job. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Christopher . . . are these from you?" she asked at lunch, careful to make her tone light as she placed the two picture-poems on the table. Christopher's eyes fell to them, and he smiled.
"Yes."
He didn't ask if she liked them, and he didn't seem embarrassed.
Sarah was flustered, and somewhat surprised by Christopher's easy confidence. Even so, her natural suspicion surfaced. "Why?"
"Because," he answered seriously, "you make a good subject. Your hair, for one, is like a shimmering waterfall. It's so fair that it catches the light. It makes you seem like you have a halo about you. And your eyes - they're such a pure color, not washed out at all, deep as the ocean. And your expression . . . intense and yet somehow detached, as if you see more of the world than the rest of us."
Flustered, she could think of no way to respond. Did he just say this stuff from the top of his head? Only her strict Vida control kept her from blushing.
Meanwhile Nissa entered the cafeteria. She started to sit, then glanced from the pictures, to Christopher, to Sarah. "Should I go somewhere else?"
Christopher nodded to a chair, answering easily, "Sit down. We aren't exchanging dark secrets - yet."
Nissa flashed a teasing look to her brother as she took a seat. "As his sister, I feel the need to inform you, Sarah, that Christopher has been talking about you incessantly."
Christopher smiled, unembarrassed. "I suppose I might have been.'
"Especially your ~ Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

Right now he needed to concentrate on keeping himself under control. Inside, his gut churned. There was a war going on. The joy of holding his son again clashed with the waves of anger that rose higher and higher with each passing moment. He thought he had known why Pete had arrived at the farm. He had pushed the fork into the soil and watched the earth turn over sure that the truth of their tragedy was about to be laid before them. He had watched the dry earth give up the rich brown soil and wanted to stay there forever in the cold garden just watching his fork move the earth. He had not wanted to hear what Pete had to say. And now this..this..What did you call this? A miracle? What else could it be? But this miracle was tainted. He was not holding the same boy he had taken to the Easter Show.
This thin child with shaved hair was not the Lockie he knew. Someone had taken that child. They had taken his child and he could feel by the weight of him they had starved him. Someone had done this to him. They had done this and god knew what else. Doug walked slowly into the house, trying to find the right way to break the news to Sarah.
She was lying down in the bedroom again. These days she spent more time there than anywhere else. Doug walked slowly through the house to the main bedroom at the back. It was the only room in the house whose curtains were permanently closed.
How damaged was his child? Would he ever be the same boy they had taken up to the Show ? Wha ~ Nicole Trope

Dark, that's the word. Dark hair strategically styled in at least a dozen conflicting directions. Dark brows and lashes, dark stubble, and hazel eyes pinning me with a piercing dark look. ~ Jewel E. Ann

If I had it my way, I would have just kept it short forever. Of course, men like long hair. There's no two ways about it. The majority of the boys around me were like, 'Why did you do that? That's such an error.' And I was like, 'Well, honestly, I don't really care what you think!' I've never felt so confident as I did with short hair - I felt really good in my own skin. ~ Emma Watson

As Harry Potter was the only other thing I was passionate about, the doctors gave consent for me to leave the hospital and collect the fifth Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, from the local book shop. I was so ecstatic to have the book and excited to begin reading it, but there was never any hint of your imminent arrival and the way you would change my life so drastically. Luna, you instantly captivated me. I didn't know why but there was something about you with your upside-down magazine, straggly blonde hair, and the honest, abashed way you stared at people without blinking that fascinated and perplexed me at once. You laughed hysterically at one of Ron's quips and didn't stop to excuse yourself and feel ashamed when it became clear that everyone found you strange. Throughout the book, I found myself waiting for your brief appearances and wanting to know more about you and why you were the way you were. You baffled me, not because you were odd (though indeed you were), but because you were… perfect. But it was a different kind of perfect to the perfectly thin, smiling magazine girls I simultaneously idolised and reviled. It was the way you carried your oddness like it was the most natural thing in the world. You didn't market your oddness as your defining feature the way some insecure teenagers do, in guise of confidence and security. And nor were you oblivious to the awkward and uncomfortable feelings your oddness provoked in others. When, unabl ~ Evanna Lynch

The slightly porky man on the other side of the Plexiglas has back-combed hair and arms covered in tattoos. As if it isn't enough to look like someone has slapped a pack of margarine over his head, he has to cover himself in doodles as well. There's not even a proper motif, as far as Ove can see, just a lot of patterns. Is that something an adult person in a healthy state of mind would consent to? Going about with his arms looking like a pair of pajamas? ~ Fredrik Backman

There was something pathetic about the rejected wife bravely pulling herself together, joining a tennis club, doing a photography course, cutting her hair, venturing timidly back out onto the single scene. ~ Liane Moriarty

I had to be the world's biggest loser, writing about hair, and stuff about my body. No wonder I stopped keeping a journal. It was like keeping a record of my own stupidity. Why would I want to do that? ~ Benjamin Alire Saenz

Elizabeth called it my mane of hair; I called it my bane of hair. However, it was far worse looking when it was short, sticking straight up or out at awkward angles; at least when it was long it almost obeyed gravity. ~ Penny Reid

Tristan?"
He turned his face to me, and it was streaked with tears. I wanted to wipe them away, tell him that everything would be all right, but my body was locked stiff with pain.
"Promise me you'll get better," he whispered. "Tell me you'll grow strong again. That you'll gallop on horseback through summer meadows. Dance in spring rains and let snowflakes melt on your tongue in winter. That you'll travel wherever the wind takes you. That you'll live." He stroked my hair. "Promise me."
Confusion crept over me. "You'll be with me, though. You'll do those things too?"
He kissed my lips, silencing my questions. "Promise me."
"No," I said, struggling against him.. "No, you said you were coming with me. You said. You promised." He had to be coming with me - he said he was and Tristan couldn't lie. Wouldn't lie.
He got to his feet and stepped into the water. I tried to struggle, but he was too strong. "Tristian, no, no, no!" I tried to scream, but I couldn't. I tried to hold on to him, but my fingers wouldn't work. The cold of the water bit into my skin and I sobbed, terrified. "You said you would never leave me!"
He stopped, the weight of his sorrow greater than any mountain. "And if I had the choice, I never would. I love you, Cécile. I will love you until the day I take my last breath and that is the truth. " He kissed me hard. "Forgive me. ~ Danielle L. Jensen

I drove out. There were a half-dozen cars there. A house man let me in. Brell came hurrying to me to pump my hand. He was a trim-bodied man in his late forties, dark and handsome in a slightly vulpine way, and I suspected he wore a very expensive and inconspicuous hair piece. He looked the type to go bald early. He had a resonant voice and a slightly theatrical presence. He wore tailored twill ranch pants and a crisp white shirt with blue piping. ~ John D. MacDonald

Sometimes it seems both our kids and our parents were smarter than we were. We fell somewhere between our parents' thirties idealism and our kids' eighties cynicism. Somewhere deep down we still believe that all we need is love, love, love. Somewhere deep down we question how we got grey hair. How on earth did we get to be the grown-ups?
The wonder is that our kids are growing up
despite all that we did to destroy them. ~ Erica Jong

His lips move against my hair. "I'm sorry, Senna."
I tremble. He's sorry? Him? "For what?" There is a million year pause.
"I couldn't save you this time."
I cry into his chest. Not because he couldn't. Because he wanted to. ~ Tarryn Fisher

He asked himself what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of. If he were a painter he would paint her in that attitude. Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off the light ones. Distant Music he would call the picture if he were a painter. ~ James Joyce

He'd always liked the way Josey smelled. He thought about how she was wearing her curly black hair down that night, how she was in that tight sweater he'd seen her in so many times, the red so striking against her pale skin. And he wasn't the only man here who had noticed. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

but the first rule about a black woman's hair is you don't talk about a black woman's hair. And the second rule is you don't ever touch a black woman's hair without getting written permission first. And that includes after sex, marriage, or death for that matter. This courtesy is not reciprocated. ~ Ben Aaronovitch

Cremation was definitely the way to go. It was the way I wanted to go, rather than risk the possibility of going out on a bad-hair day. ~ Emily Giffin

So wet," he murmured.
The words shocked her. She wanted to hear more.
He stilled, resting his temple against hers. His breath stirred her hair as he traced her intimate flesh in slow, tantalizing strokes.
"For me?" he whispered. The vulnerable rasp in his voice undid her.
She kissed his jaw. "For you. Only you. ~ Tessa Dare

I don't really have the patience to do my hair, which is why it's always parted down the middle, slicked, in a low ponytail or a messy high bun. I'm too lazy to do my own hair, but I like doing my makeup. ~ Gigi Hadid

Glimpse of him. Once things got hot, I tended pretty much to my own knittin. I glanced around just once and saw him upstreet beyond them Swedes under the Bijou's marquee, " Mr. Keene said. "He wasn't wearing a clown suit or nothing like that. He was dressed in a pair of farmer's biballs and a cotton shirt underneath. But his face was covered with that white greasepaint they use, and he had a big red clown smile painted on. Also had these tufts of fake hair, you know. Orange. Sorta comical. ~ Stephen King