Hair Wash Day Quotes

I've been around and seen the Taj Mahal and the Grand Canyon and Marilyn Monroe's footprints outside Grauman's Chinese, but I've never seen my mother wash her own hair. ~ Marcia Aldrich

Huffing from her exertion, her face flushed and her expression happy, she looked toward the door - and went still.
Dare pushed past Trace and went to the wall unit to turn down the music.
Into the silence, Chris asked, "Everyone having fun?"
"God, Chris," Dare said. "Trace is going to kill you if you don't shut up."
"Really?" Priss struck a pose of annoyance, one hip cocked out, her arms crossed, her chin elevated. "And here Molly and Chris assured Matt that you weren't the type to cause bodily harm."
"They must have been jesting." Trace was well used to Chris's warped sense of humor, so Chris wasn't in any danger. But Matt . . . Trace zeroed in on him. In a tone more lethal for the quietness of it, he asked, "What are you doing?"
"Harmless dancing?" Matt replied in a nervous question, unsure of the right answer.
Priss suddenly stepped in front of Matt, which left Matt bemused. "Don't act snarky with him, Trace. I asked him to dance with me. We had some time to kill before this crud comes out of my hair. And you were nowhere to be found."
Matt pulled her aside, earning a glare from Trace. He quickly held up his hands, palms out, to prove he wasn't touching her. "Speaking of time, we can go wash your hair right now, if everyone will just excuse us."
"I need a minute with Priss first." Trace eyed her militant stance, and had to fight a smile. She had a backbone of steel. He liked that. "Alone. ~ Lori Foster

What does a woman do as she waits for her man? She may wash her hair, put on makeup, choose the kind of outfit any woman would be eager to try on, spray on perfume, and look at herself one last time in the mirror. If she does these things, it's when she and the man she's waiting for are in love. It's different when a woman waits for a man she still loves but who has broken up with her, because the pure joy of it is missing. Loving someone is like carving words into the back of your hand. Even if the others can't see the words, they, like glowing letters, stand out in the eyes of the person who's left you. Right now, that's enough for me. ~ Kyung-ran Jo

In my head, every voice corresponds with a woman, a time of life, a concern, a mood, or even the kind of wash that's going to be hung out that day. ~ Kamel Daoud

Well, get the coffer out," said Tobie roundly. "You find his clean clothes and I'll cut his hair round his cap and wash his ears out. Then, when we get to the Palazzo Medici, you imitate his voice and I'll sit him on my knee and move his arms up and down. Where is the problem? ~ Dorothy Dunnett

I wash my face and put moisturiser on; I've never had a facial, and I don't get my hair or my nails done. I just do it all myself. ~ Imelda May

And he was introduced to Loki, the family's hairless cat.

"The kids wanted another pet," Becky explained as Felix stared in horror at the creature beside him. "But with Polly's allergies . . ."

"You are lying to me. You borrowed this creature from a zoo to play a prank on me. This isn't even really a cat, is it? This is some sort of rat and opossum hybrid. This is a lifelike Japanese robot that can dance to disco music."

"Funny. They're called sphinx cats. Come on, feel her skin. Like peach fuzz, right? Isn't she sweet? Give her a good rub. She's very affectionate."

"Ah-ha, yes, isn't that just . . . er, what is coating my hands?"

"It's . . . it's like a body wax. I should've bathed her before you came. The hairless cats, they ooze this waxy stuff to protect their skin. 'Cause they don't have hair. To protect them. So the waxy ooze helps. You see."

Felix stared at her for several seconds, his hands held up like a doctor about to perform surgery.

"I'm going to wash my hands now. And I'm going to try very hard not to run out of this house screaming. ~ Shannon Hale

Human hair takes much more attention, as far as holding the style. You have to comb it, straighten it out, and wash and dry it. ~ Beverly Johnson

It was a dead swan. Its body lay contorted on the beach like an abandoned lover. I looked at the bird for a long time. There was no blood on its feathers, no sight of gunshot. Most likely, a late migrant from the north slapped silly by a ravenous Great Salt Lake. The swan may have drowned. I knelt beside the bird, took off my deerskin gloves, and began smoothing feathers. Its body was still limp - the swan had not been dead long. I lifted both wings out from under its belly and spread them on the sand. Untangling the long neck which was wrapped around itself was more difficult, but finally I was able to straighten it, resting the swan's chin flat against the shore. The small dark eyes had sunk behind the yellow lores. It was a whistling swan. I looked for two black stones, found them, and placed them over the eyes like coins. They held. And, using my own saliva as my mother and grandmother had done to wash my face, I washed the swan's black bill and feet until they shone like patent leather. I have no idea of the amount of time that passed in the preparation of the swan. What I remember most is lying next to its body and imagining the great white bird in flight. I imagined the great heart that propelled the bird forward day after day, night after night. Imagined the deep breaths taken as it lifted from the arctic tundra, the camaraderie within the flock. I imagined the stars seen and recognized on clear autumn nights as they navigated south. Imagined their silhouettes passing ~ Terry Tempest Williams

If you had a cancer on your skin and had it burned it off, you'd wash it and clean it every day. ~ Nick Nolte

And that's what we'll do every day. If you or your friends spray-paint obscenities on our walls, we'll scrub them off, and the people will come. if you break our windows, we'll fix them, and the people will come. If you hurt us, we'll wash off the blood, slap on some bandages and the people will come ... any wound you inflict, we'll stitch up. We're not going to stop, no matter what you do. This work is too important. Too many lives are at stake. ~ Robert J. Wiersema

Remembering Mom's Clothesline -- There is one thing that's left out. We had a long wooden pole (clothes pole) that was used to push the clotheslines up so that longer items (sheets/pants/etc.) didn't brush the ground and get dirty.
I can hear my mother now...

THE BASIC RULES FOR CLOTHESLINES:

(If you don't even know what clotheslines are, better skip this.)
1. You had to hang the socks by the toes... NOT the top.
2. You hung pants by the BOTTOM/cuffs... NOT the waistbands.
3. You had to WASH the clothesline(s) before hanging any clothes - Walk the entire length of each line with a damp cloth around the lines.
4. You had to hang the clothes in a certain order, and always hang "whites" with "whites," And hang them first.
5. You NEVER hung a shirt by the shoulders - always by the tail! What would the neighbors think?
6. Wash day on a Monday! NEVER hang clothes on the weekend, Or on Sunday, for Heaven's sake!
7. Hang the sheets and towels on the OUTSIDE lines so you could Hide your "unmentionables" in the middle perverts & busybodies, y'know!)
8. It didn't matter if it was sub-zero weather... Clothes would "freeze-dry."
9. ALWAYS gather the clothes pins when taking down dry clothes! Pins left on the lines were "tacky"!
10. If you were efficient, you would line the clothes up so that each item. Did not need two clothes pins, but shared one of the clothes pins with the next washed item.
11. C ~ Unnown

Rained gently last night, just enough to wash the town clean, and then today a clean crisp fat spring day, the air redolent, the kind of green minty succulent air you'd bottle if you could and snort greedily on bleak, wet January evenings when the streetlights hzzzt on at four in the afternoon and all existence seems hopeless and sad. ~ Brian Doyle

And then she set to work, washing fresh blueberries that sat on the counter, before grabbing a big colander. Sam headed into the backyard, whose lawn backed acres of woods. Blackberries and raspberries grew wild and thick in the brambles that sat at the edge of the woods. Sam carefully navigated her way through the thorny vines, her thin running shirt catching and snagging on a thorn.
"Darn it," she mumbled.
Blackberries are red when they're green, she could hear her grandfather telling her when they used to pick the fruit. But today, a brilliant summer day, the blackberries were deep purple, almost black, and each one resembled a mini beehive.
Sam plucked and popped a fresh blackberry, already warm from the sun, into her mouth, savoring the natural sweetness, and picked until her colander was half full before easing her way through the woods to find a raspberry bush thick with fruit. She navigated her way out of the brambles and headed back to the kitchen, where she preheated the oven and began to wash the blackberries and raspberries.
Sam pulled cold, unsalted butter from the fridge and began to cube it, some flour and sugar from the cupboard, a large bowl, and then she located her grandmother's old pastry blender.
Sam made the crust and then rolled it into a ball, lightly flouring it and wrapping it in plastic before placing it in the refrigerator. Then she started in on the filling, mixing the berries, sugar, flour, and fresh orange juice. ~ Viola Shipman

I drink too much. I smoke too much. I eat like a college student, and I don't exercise enough. I do drugs and I give my love to boys who hate me a little bit and I don't always wash my hands after I clean the litterbox. But I'm absolutely certain the thing that will one day stop my heart for good is the inchoate rage I feel when I read over something I've published and discover a typo. ~ Julio Alexi Genao

Actresses are so spoilt - we have someone who does our hair for us on set, so we don't know how to do it ourselves in real life. I know how to wash my hair and brush my teeth, but that's about it! ~ Clemence Poesy

Syn soaped and bathed his body from head to toe. "Can I wash your hair?" "Yes," was all Furi managed to say. ~ A.E. Via

When in trouble, take a bath and wash your hair. ~ Zsa Zsa Gabor

Waiting

I am waiting for the special day,
when you will say "i will stay",

I am waiting for the night,
when you will be there and everything's right,

I am waiting for that magical rain,
that will wash away the distance, sepration and pain,

I am waiting for a change,
when everything will get arranged,

I am waiting for a meeting,
when i can see you, and my heart can start beating,

I am waiting for a fight,
after which i can hold you in my arms tight,

I am waiting for a blue moon,
when we can meet and i hope it will come soon,

I am waiting for the special day,
when you will say "i will stay", ~ Ratish Edwards

We used to wash our hair in buckets and survive on toasted sandwiches, chocolates and soup. ~ Joan Greenwood

He's pressing me to his chest. I melt. Oh, this is where I want to be
I rest my head against him, and he kisses my hair repeatedly. This is home. He smells of linen, fabric softener, body wash, and my favourite smell - Christian. For a moment, I allow myself the illusion that all will be well, and it soothes my ravaged soul ~ E.L. James

Not satisfied with what he's got? Is that it? That's husbands all over. Ungrateful pigs. You do everything for them, you bring up their kids, you cook their food, you wash their clothes, you warm their beds, you fuss over your face day after day so they'll fancy you, you wear yourself out to keep them happy and at the end of it all, what happens? They find someone else they fancy more. Someone young some man hasn't had the chance to wear out yet. Marriage is a con trick. A girl should marry a rich man, then at least she'd have a fur coat to keep her warm in her old age. ~ Fay Weldon

Perhaps some wine will wash things clean,' suggested Bugg.
'Won't hurt. Pour us some, please. You, guard, come and join us - standing there doing nothing must be a dreadful bore. No need to gape like that, I assure you. Doff that helm and relax - there's another guard just like you on the other side of that door, after all. Let him bear the added burden of diligence. Tell us about yourself. Family, friends, hobbies, scandals - '
'Sire,' warned Bugg.
'Or just join us in a drink and feel under no pressure to say anything at all. This shall be one of those interludes swiftly glossed over in the portentous histories of great and mediocre kings. We sit in the desultory aftermath, oblivious to omens and whatever storm waits behind yonder horizon. Ah, thank you, Bugg - my Queen, accept that goblet and come sit on my knee - oh, don't make that kind of face, we need to compose the proper scene. I insist and since I'm King I can do that, or so I read somewhere. Now, let's see . . . yes, Bugg, stand right over there - oh, massaging your brow is the perfect pose. And you, dearest guard - how did you manage to hide all that hair? And how come I never knew you were a woman? Never mind, you're an unexpected delight - ow, calm down, wife - oh, that's me who needs to calm down. Sorry. Women in uniforms and all that. Guard, that dangling helm is exquisite by the way, take a mouthful and do pass judgement on the vintage, yes, like that, oh, most perfect!
'Now, it's just occu ~ Steven Erikson

The Jake Gyllenhaal workout planstarts with growing long, long hairgorgeous greasy locks and then washing every day.Wash, shampoo, then condition. Washing works the biceps and then the triceps by conditioning. And vigorously rubbing all of your body with soap really defines the abs and the pectoral muscles. And if you do squats while you're bathing - that's it! ~ Jake Gyllenhaal

Beautiful day out there," I said, perching on the stool and crossing my legs. "It's autumn, Sunday, great weather, and crowded everywhere you go. Relaxing indoors like this is the best thing you can do on such a nice day. It's exhausting to get into those crowds. And the air is bad. I mostly do laundry on Sundays - wash the stuff in the morning, hang it out on the roof of my dorm, take it in before the sun goes down, do a good job of ironing it. I don't mind ironing at all. There's a special satisfaction in making wrinkled things smooth. And I'm pretty good at it, too. Of course, I was lousy at it at first. I put creases in everything. After a month of practice, though, I knew what I was doing. So Sunday is my day for laundry and ironing. I couldn't do it today, of course. Too bad: wasted a perfect laundry day. ~ Haruki Murakami

I hate how when I have a bunch of events going on and I have to get my hair done so much, [then] I have to wash it more often. It's definitely better not to. ~ L'Wren Scott

[When asked: "If women voted, would they not have to sit on juries?":] Many women would be glad of a chance to sit on anything. There are women who stand up and wash six days in the week at 75 cents a day who would like to take a vacation and sit on a jury at $1.50. ~ Anna Howard Shaw

What a strange, sad man is he!" said the child, as if speaking partly to herself. "In the dark night-time, he calls us to him, and holds thy hand and mine, as when we stood with him on the scaffold yonder! And in the deep forest, where only the old trees can hear, and the strip of sky see it, he talks with thee, sitting on a heap of moss! And he kisses my forehead, too, that the little brook would hardly wash it off! But here in the sunny day, and among all the people, he knows us not; nor must we know him! A strange, sad man is he, with is hand always over his heart! ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

Foaming is a huge reward," said Sinclair, the brand manager. "Shampoo doesn't have to foam, but we add foaming chemicals because people expect it each time they wash their hair. Same thing with laundry detergent. And toothpaste - now every company adds sodium laureth sulfate to make toothpaste foam more. There's no cleaning benefit, but people feel better when there's a bunch of suds around their mouth. Once the customer starts expecting that foam, the habit starts growing. ~ Charles Duhigg

I quickly wash my hair and body, keeping my mind on each step required, so I'll stop thinking about Sawyer. Naked. In this shower. Damn it! Well Played, Imagination. Well played. ~ Tasha Ivey

It's all right," said the Fool urgently. "You'll be perfectly safe with me." "Yes, I will, won't I," said Magrat, trying to look around him to see where the others had gone. "They're staging the play outside, in the big courtyard. We'll get a lovely view from one of the gate towers, and no one else will be there. I put some wine up there for us, and everything." When she still looked half-reluctant he added, "And there's a cistern of water and a fireplace that the guards use sometimes. In case you want to wash your hair. ~ Terry Pratchett

He felt her relax as his fingers caressed her back and moved lower to her buttocks, slick, yet firm, beneath the water.
"You're not going to wash my hair, are you?" she whispered. ~ E.B. Brown

I'm attempting to put myself in a bottle that will one day wash up on the beach for my children. ~ Randy Pausch

I can't help feeling a little grateful since the last thing I want to do is strip down Haymitch, wash the vomit out of his chest hair, and tuck him into bed. ~ Suzanne Collins

But maybe this is what Hannah has always wanted: a man who will deny her. A man of her own who isn't hers. Isn't it the real reason she broke up with Mike--not because he moved to North Carolina for law school (he wanted her to go with him, and she said no) but because he adored her? If she asked him to get out of bed and bring her a glass of water, he did. If she was in a bad mood, he tried to soothe her. It didn't bother him if she cried, or if she didn't wash her hair or shave her legs or have anything interesting to say. He forgave it all, he always thought she was beautiful, he always wanted to be around her. It became so boring! She'd been raised, after all, not to be accommodated but to accommodate, and if she was his world, then his world was small, he was easily satisfied. After a while, when he parted her lips with his tongue, she'd think, Thrash, thrash, here we go. She wanted to feel like she was striving cleanly forward, walking into a bracing wind and learning from her mistakes, and she felt instead like she was sitting in a deep, squishy sofa, eating Cheetos, in an overheated room. With Oliver, there is always contrast to shape their days, tension to keep them on their toes: You are far form me, you are close to me. We are fighting, we are getting along. ~ Curtis Sittenfeld