Nuviante Hair Trials Quotes

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We know nothing of the trials, sorrows and temptations of those around us, of pillows wet with sobs, of the life-tragedy that may be hidden behind a smile, of the secret cares, struggles, and worries that shorten life and leave their mark in hair prematurely whitened, and a character changed and almost recreated in a few days. Let us not dare to add to the burden of another the pain of our judgment. ~ William George Jordan

Men do not avail themselves of the riches of God's grace. They love to nurse their cares, and seem as uneasy without some fret as an old friar would be without his hair girdle. They are commanded to cast their cares upon the Lord, but even when they attempt it, they do not fail to catch them up again, and think it meritorious to walk burdened. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

We pick up our shots and for the first time there's a total absence of sound in the room. From the ceiling, shy silver things blink and wait. Dennis doesn't sit, but hovers at the edge of the table, leaning in with a darkroom perfected slump. His hair hangs like its edges were dipped in lead. Thin spears pointing to the table. I'm looking at his face; we're both serious in a self-aware way, pretending not to notice.

"It doesn't even feel like I left. God, you look fucking terrible. But it's a terrible face that drinks tequila well. Down. And cheers."

We force a dull clash of cups and pour everything down at once. The hard tequila shudders that never happen in the movies. First your head feels light, then it starts receiving the distress signals from throat, lungs, belly. Your shoulders jerk to shake off the snake that wrapped around you and squeezed. It burns. The good burn. ~ Laurie Perez

Dr. Philbosian smelled like an old couch, of hair oil and spilled soup, of unscheduled naps. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

Are the computers going to fail? one of the artists asked him, licking ketchup off her thumb. She asked it like she was hoping he'd say yes. Lincoln couldn't remember her name, but she had all-over-the-place hair and big brown eyes. He didn't like thinking about her with an X-Acto knife. ~ Rainbow Rowell

She rides the sandworm of space!
She guides through all storms
Into the land of gentle winds.
Though we sleep by the snake's den,
She guards our dreaming sould.
Shunning the desert heat,
She hides us in a cool hollow.
The gleaming of her white teeth
Guides us in the night.
By the braids of her hair
We are lifted to heaven!
Sweet fragrance, flower-scented,
Surrounds us in her presence. ~ Frank Herbert

I want to know who she is particularly close to
among the staff here." Who is besotted with her. Hell,
they probably all were. Except Donald, who rarely
broke his stoic façade. And Andreas. "And what
questions she asks."
Donald inclined his head, hair slipping a fraction
more. "It will be done." He watched Andreas for a
moment. "And she and her family will be safe here,"
he said, gaze steady, eyes just an extra bit bright.
Andreas nodded sharply back, dismissed him
quickly, all while trying to hold back the curses
layering his tongue at the words that were both said
and unsaid. Donald was infected too.
Goddamn biscuits. ~ Anne Mallory

You think about pulling my hair while I'm eating your pussy? ~ Laura Kaye

Who are you?" Rosemary said in amazement. She had never seen men like these before. Cloaks of green and brown fell from their broad shoulders and every hand gripped a round shield an evil-looking spear. Beneath the thick yellow hair, eyes glinted hard and wild.
One of the men rode near and peered down at Rosemary. Unlike the rest, he was clean-shaven and pleasant-looking, and she was surprised to see that he was no older than herself. Nonetheless his blond-red hair was bound with golden circlet and he was obviously the leader. He suddenly smiled at her and his eyes were bright with humour and curiosity.
"It is hardly your place to question us, girl."
He reached out and touched her hair.
"Hair like the night...and such strange clothing. But you are fair-faced. Whose slave might you be? ~ O.R. Melling

I'm all about having one day during the week when I have an at-home spa day. That's when I like to do my nails and moisturize, or do a coconut oil hair masque and clear out my blackheads with pore strips. That's one of my favorite things. ~ Shay Mitchell

It is quite a risk to spank a wizard for getting hysterical about his hair. ~ Diana Wynne Jones

I had the most expensive haircut you can get, and I was walking around with my hair in rollers backstage, and my hair still came out looking like I was shot out of a cannon and I had just gotten out of bed. ~ Kelly Cutrone

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

Dorian walked slowly back to his rooms, his heart racing. He could still feel her lips on his, smell the scent of her hair, and see the gold in her eyes flickering in the candlelight.
Consequences be damned. He'd find a way to make it work; he'd find a way to be with her. He had to.
He had leapt from the cliff. He could only wait for the net. ~ Sarah J. Maas

I just thought I would work in a hair salon and do community theater. ~ Christina Hendricks

Said Red Molly to James that's a fine motorbike
A girl could feel special on any such like
Said James to Red Molly, my hat's off to you
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Red hair and black leather, my favourite colour scheme
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Boxhill they did ride

Said James to Red Molly, here's a ring for your right hand
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man
I've fought with the law since I was seventeen
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine
Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you
And if fate should break my stride
Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride

Come down, come down, Red Molly, called Sergeant McRae
For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside
Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside
When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath
But he smiled to see her cry
And said I'll give you my Vincent to ride

Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl
Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do
They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52
He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys
He said I've got ~ Richard L. Thompson

Ann: If we know God, we do not need to know why He allows us to experience what we do. ~ K. Howard Joslin

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

I was getting a little bored with my hair. It's kind of a symbolic thing, just getting rid of the past, moving forward. It's amazing what a reaction you get when you cut your hair. ~ Pamela Anderson

A man who experiences difficult trials usually receives special visions ~ Sunday Adelaja

If you love them in the morning with their eyes full of crust; if you love them at night with their hair full of rollers, chances are, you're in love. ~ Miles Davis

I liked to dye my hair as a teenager. I dyed it a lot of different colours: blue, red, pink. ~ Lorelei Linklater

Morpheus leans close. His hair brushes my exposed shoulder, tickling and soft. "Shy little blossom," he whispers, his sweet breath cloaking me. "We're simply going to meld your pain away."
Meld ... that doesn't sound like something my dad would approve of. ~ A.G. Howard

I'm sorry, Abby. I panicked."

I shook my head. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me? I would have been better off dead if Travis had seen me come out of that building without you. I tried to find you after you ran off, but then I got lost and had to find another way. I walked along the building looking for that window, but I ran into some cops and they made me leave. I've been flippin' the fuck OUT over here!" he said, running his hand over his short hair. ~ Jamie McGuire

If I knew how to stop the tears, I would. I don't want him to hear me cry. I don't want him to know how upset I am that we can't have this every day of our lives. I don't want him to ask me what's wrong.
When he feels my tears falling against his chest, he doesn't do anything to stop them. Instead, he simply holds me with a much tighter grip and presses his cheek against the top of my head. His hand brushes softly through my hair.
"I know, baby," he whispers. "I know. ~ Colleen Hoover

The Flapper awoke from her lethargy of sub-deb-ism, bobbed her hair, put on her choicest pair of earrings and a great deal of audacity and rouge and went into the battle. She flirted because it was fun to flirt and wore a one-piece bathing suit because she had a good figure she was conscious that the things she did were the things she had always wanted to do. Mothers disapproved of their sons taking the Flapper to dances, to teas, to swim and most of all to heart. ~ Zelda Fitzgerald

His skin was furred like that of a horse. Snakes danced and hissed from his head, their thin bodies acting as his hair. Two long fangs protruded over his bottom lip. He had human hands, but his feet were hooves. Muscle was stacked upon muscle on his torso, and his nipples were pierced by two large silver rings. Metal chains circled his neck, wrists and ankles, and those chains kept him tethered to the pillars. "Who are you?" Strider demanded. No need to ask what the thing was. Ugly as shit covered it. He ~ Gena Showalter

What the Republicans have said is rather than touch one hair on the heads of the wealthiest people in our country, people who make over $1 million a year, they're saying, 'Seniors should pay $6,000 more dollars a year. But please don't let us ask the wealthiest to do their fair share.' ~ Nancy Pelosi

She just did not want to be a revolutionary. The revolution made her ugly. It covered her. She had pretty hair that she had to hide. She had pretty legs that she had to cover up. ~ Moniro Ravanipour

I emerged into the sticky-hot evening to find Ricky smoking on the hood of his battered car. Something about his mud-encrusted boots and the way he let smoke curl from his lips and how the sinking sun lit his green hair reminded me of a punk, redneck James Dean. He was all of those things, a bizarre cross-pollination of subcultures possible only in South Florida. ~ Ransom Riggs

still dripped down my naked torso as I brushed my teeth in the vanity mirror. My dark hair looked ~ Kirsty Dallas

And Peter became a tall and deep-chested man and a great warrior, and he was called King Peter the Magnificent. And Susan grew into a tall and gracious woman with black hair that fell almost to her feet and the kings of the countries beyond the sea began to send ambassadors asking for her hand in marriage. And she was called Queen Susan the Gentle. Edmund was a graver and quieter man than Peter, and great in council and judgment. he was called King Edmund the Just. But as for Lucy, she was always gay and golden-haired, and all princes in those parts desired her to be their Queen, and her own people called her Queen Lucy the Valiant. ~ C.S. Lewis

When is your birthday?" ( ... )
Wide silver-gold eyes swung to him. "You don't know?"
"No."
Pouting, she twirled a strand of her hair. "How can you not know?"
"Do you know mine?" he asked.
"Of course I do. It's the day you met me. ~ Gena Showalter

She stands on the cliffs, near the old crumbling stone house. There's nothing left in the house but an upturned table, a ladle, and a clay bowl. She stands for more than an hour, goose-bumped and shivering. At these times, she won't confide in me. She runs her hands over her body, as if checking that it's still there, her heart pulsing and beating. The limbs are smooth and strong, thin and sinewy, her hair long and black and messy and gleaming despite her age. You wouldn't know it to look at her, that she's lived long enough to look for what's across the water. Eighty years later, and she is still fifteen. ~ Jodi Lynn Anderson

It's repulsive how you act around every two-legged mammal with a beard."
"But it works," Lily returned with a large smile she knew would aggravate her sister. "You should try it, Edythe. God gave you everything needed to capture a man's eye,but then you open your mouth and drive anyone interested in you my way.If you could just learn to keep quiet."
"Amazing,Lily,for that's my aadvice to you.And as far as driving men away,first there would have to be someone to repel.Not one man of marrying age or eligibility has visited since Father left, and secondly, if a man can be so easily intimidated, I wouldn't want him for a dinner companion,let alone a husband."
Lily rolled her eyes,their light shadowy color made only more piercing by her fair skin and dark hair. "You don't intimidate,Edythe. You insult."
"And you,Lily, think anything that isn't dripping with flattery and praise is an insult. ~ Michele Sinclair

Misfortune is never mournful to the soul that accepts it; for such do always see that every cloud is an angel's face. ~ Lydia M. Child

You get religion as your hair turns grey. ~ Jimmy Buffett

[Author's Note:] When my grandmother came to the United States from Puerto Rico in the 1940s, she was a beautiful, glamorous woman from a wealthy family in the capital city, and the young bride of a dashing naval officer. She expected to be received as such. Instead, she found that people here had a very reductionist view of what it meant to be Puerto Rican, of what it meant to be Latinx. Everything about her confused her new neighbors: her skin tone, her hair, her accent, her notions. She wasn't what they expected a boricua to be.

My grandmother spent much of her adult life in the States but didn't always feel welcome here. She resented the perpetual gringo misconceptions about her. She never got past that resentment, and the echoes of her indignation still have some peculiar manifestations in my family today. One of the symptoms is me. Always raging against a perceived slight, always fighting against ignorance in mainstream ideas about ethnicity and culture. I'm acutely aware that the people coming to our southern border are not one faceless brown mass but singular individuals, with stories and backgrounds and reasons for coming that are unique. I feel this awareness in my spine, in my DNA.

So I hoped to present one of those unique personal stories - a work of fiction - as a way to honor the hundreds of thousands of stories we may never get to hear. And in so doing, I hope to create a pause where the reader may begin to individuate. When we see migrant ~ Jeanine Cummins

There's no more important bonding thing than a mother doing the daughter's hair. We sit at our mother's knee and learn who we are. ~ T'Keyah Crystal Keymah

We'll burn those old clothes, my lady--they're ruined." And she pointed to where she'd laid out a long, heavy cotton shirt, and one of the blue and black-and-white tunics, and a pair of leggings. Renselaeus's colors.
"I don't mind putting that dress back on, dirty or not," I said. "I'm used to dirt."
She gave me a friendly shrug but shook her head. "Orders."
I considered that as I rinsed the last of the sandsoap from my hair and twisted it to get the water out. Orders from whom? Once again my mind filled with recent memories. More awake now, I knew that the rescue at Chovilun had been no dream. Was it possible that the Marquis had seen the justice of our cause and had switched sides? The escort, the humane treatment--surely that meant I was being sent home. Once again I felt relief and gratitude. As soon as I got to the castle I'd write a fine letter of thanks. No, I'd get Oria to write down my words, I decided, picturing the elegant Marquis. At least as embarrassing as had been the idea of waking up in his arms again was the idea of his trying to read my terrible handwriting and worse spelling. ~ Sherwood Smith

You said you needed to see me again, too.'
'Did it help?'
'More than you'll ever know.'
I tightened my arm around his waist, wanting nothing more from the moment than what it was.
That simple moment, touching him, feeling him breathe, his hand stroking my hair - it was all I could have hoped for, all I could have wanted. I was filled up with it, this warm, buzzing feeling in my chest, and it was completely satisfying.
I wondered if it might be what I needed after all. ~ Sarah Fine

He chuckles and the rumble feels decadent as he takes one breast into his mouth, teasing the nipple with his tongue. My hips start to swivel, my need for sensation growing. I run my fingers through his hair, throwing my head back to press my breasts into his kiss. Trailing kisses across my chest, he mumbles, You are most definitely my catnip. ~ Katya Armock

When you go into your customary barber shop, you will wait for the man who gives you a little better shave, a little trimmer hair-cut. Business leaders are looking for the same things in their offices that you look for in the barber shop. ~ Charles M. Schwab

They walked on in silence for a while, until Rudy said, "I just wish I was like Jesse Owens, Papa." This time, Mr. Steiner placed his hand on Rudy's head and explained, "I know, son - but you've got beautiful blond hair and big, safe blue eyes. You should be happy with that; is that clear?" But nothing was clear. ~ Markus Zusak