Poofing Hair Quotes

Of course I am, Gran," I said quietly. I blew out a breath and leaned my elbows on my knees. "I will admit that the withdrawals suck, though."
"That they do," she agreed and came to sit on the bed with me. "The sooner you get to her, the better you'll feel."
"Yeah, but I don't want to scare her. If I run over there before a decent hour, she'll probably freak and kick me out."
"I highly doubt that, boy." She lifted a piece of hair from next to my ear with her fingers. "Girls usually invite cute boys in, not throw them out. ~ Shelly Crane

Teeth retracting, Lissianna pulled free of Greg Hewitt's neck and glanced guiltily over her shoulder. The sight of Thomas and her mother staring at her wide-eyed from the doorway was enough to make her stand quickly, her hands moving to straighten her clothes and hair.
"I cannot believe this!" Marguerite stomped into the room. "Sneaking around and unwrapping your gifts before your birthday like you're twelve instead of two hundred! What were you thinking?"
"Well, technically, it is her birthday, Aunt Marguerite," Thomas pointed out as he closed the door.
Lissianna tossed her cousin a grateful smile, but said, "I wasn't sneaking around. I came up to get fresh stockings." She scooped them up off the bed, and added, "And I didn't unwrap him."
Marguerite stared pointedly at the floor.
After glancing down to see the untied bow lying forgotten there, Lissianna grimaced, and admitted, "Okay, I did unwrap him, but only because he was upset, and I hated to leave him distressed." She paused, then tilted her head, and said, "I take it Bastien's arrival interrupted you before you could put the full whammy on him? He was upset about being kidnapped and wanted to be untied when I got here."
"I didn't kidnap him," Marguerite said with affront, then peered past Lissianna to Dr. Gregory Hewitt to say, "I didn't kidnap you. I borrowed you."

-Marguerite, Thomas, & Lissianna ~ Lynsay Sands

[on Fred Astaire] Astaire is the motherless man-about-town, all sophistication quite debonair, yet with a lope in his walk rather than a swagger, for -- despite his receding hair -- he is essentially boyish, youthful, innocent. ~ Karel Reisz

The smocked chick fingered my hair and said in her stupid voice, 'You're receding.' 'We all are,' I said. We all are. We are all receding - waving or beckoning or just kissing our fingertips, we are all fading, shrinking, paling. Life is all losing, we are all losing, losing mother, father, youth, hair, looks, teeth, friends, lovers, shape, reason, life. We are losing, losing, losing. Take life away. It's too hard, too difficult. We aren't any good at it. Try us out on something else. But shelve life. Take life off the stands. It's too fucking difficult and we aren't any good at it. ~ Martin Amis

I'll wreck," he whispered. She ran her fingers up the back of his hair. "I like making you wreck." "That's not very nice." His ~ Lucian Bane

William: You'd look better with your hair chopped off.
Reggie: You'd look better with your face chopped off. ~ Richmal Crompton

Death, you are no different to me than my lover with cloud-coloured skin, and your hair a mass of dark cloud, your hands like blood-red lotus, and your lips the colour of blood. ~ Tagore Rabindranath

She is the force, that you end up
reading about in thick novels. She is
the kind of woman, you adore,
for being so content with messy hair.
She is the kind, who would
decline whatever the mankind would exalt-
and redesign everything that is
inclined to remind her
of how strongly, the society wants her confined.
To this girl, on a romantic date,
he asked the question inaccurate-
"Honey, why do you always take the road
that is so untold, hard and loathed?"
She thought of giving him a second chance,
and resisting any anger-loaded advance,
She replied, "Why do you speculate,
that I choose my fate,
imagining there are two roads? ~ Jasleen Kaur Gumber

Miss Marionetta Celestina O'Carroll was a very blooming and accomplished young lady. Being a compound of the Allegro Vivace of the O'Carrolls, and of the Andante Doloroso of the Glowries, she exhibited in her own character all the diversities of an April sky. Her hair was light-brown; her eyes hazel, and sparkling with a mild but fluctuating light; her features regular; her lips full, ~ Thomas Love Peacock

Henley squinted at her. "What about you?"
Mira looked around, flustered, hair swinging heavily as she moved. "What about me what?"
Henley sighed and let the chair thunk to the floor. "What role are you playing? Felix's underage girlfriend, Blue's obsession, or Freddie's princess?"
"That's ... rude," she said.
"It was rude when you asked me, too. ~ Sarah Cross

I wake up with you as the last thought in my dreams. I dream about your lips, the smell of your skin and hair, and the freaking fire that burms inside of me to be inside you. I want to bury myself inside you and never climb out, my sweet death. Grace, I'm fucking in love with you. - Shane ~ Christine Zolendz

Bronn said. He was near a shadow himself; bone thin and bone hard, with black eyes and black hair and a stubble of beard. ~ George R R Martin

For Rose of Sharon was pregnant and careful. Her hair, braided and wrapped around her head, made an ash-blond crown. Her round soft face, which had been voluptuous and inviting a few months ago, had already put on the barrier of pregnancy, the self-sufficient smile, the knowing perfection-look; and her plump body - full soft breasts and stomach, hard hips and buttocks that had swung so freely and provocatively as to invite slapping and stroking - her whole body had become demure and serious. Her whole thought and action were directed inward on the baby. She balanced on her toes now, for the baby's sake. And the world was pregnant to her; she thought only in terms of reproduction and of motherhood. ~ John Steinbeck

The ride to Alicante had been like something out of a dream, or a cheesy romance novel. The two of them astride white stallions, galloping across the countryside, charging across emerald meadows and through a forest the color of flames. Isabelle's hair streamed behind her like a river of ink, and Simon had even managed not to fall off his horse--never a foregone conclusion. ~ Cassandra Clare

In The Land of Poetry and Fighting, Efficiency rules the throne. I try to live here, so I shave my head because hair is dead and dead is inefficient. ~ Cameron Conaway

Femininity in general is seen as frivolous. People often say feminine people are doing "the most", meaning that to don a dress, heels, lipstick, and big hair is artifice, fake, and a distraction. But I knew even as a teenager that my femininity was more than just adornments; they were extensions of me, enabling me to express myself and my identity. My body, my clothes, and my makeup are on purpose, just as I am on purpose. ~ Janet Mock

What are
you going to call the place?"
"I haven't decided yet. Carrington wants
to call it Clippety-Do-Da or Hairway to
Heaven ... but I told her we have to be a
little bit classier."
"Julius Scissors," I suggested.
"Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow," Jack
joined in.
Liberty covered her ears. "I'll go out of
business in the first week. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Benji usually tries to match his hair with his underwear, and you know how he had the pink hair for a while well we caught him in a pink thong one day! ~ Joel Madden

I love your hair. It's like a waterfall of black ink," he utters softly. ~ Petra F. Bagnardi

I reach up and flick the hair hanging across his forehead. ~ Colleen Hoover

I'm undaunted in my quest to amuse myself by constantly changing my hair. ~ Hillary Clinton

Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! ~ William Blake

He laid himself down on top of her, careful not to put too much weight on her. Her hands played in his hair. "I'm yours completely."
She laughed. "I somehow doubt that."
And she would be wrong.

-Nykyrian & Kiara ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

My gaze returns to earth and when it does, it's her eyes I see. Not the way I used to see them - around every corner, behind my own closed lids at the start of each day. Not in the way I used to imagine them in the eyes of every other girl I laid on top of. No, this time it really is her eyes. A photo of her, dressed in black, a cello leaning against one shoulder like a tired child. Her hair is up in one of those buns that seem to be a requisite for classical musicians. She used to wear it up like that for recitals and chamber music concerts, but with little pieces hanging down, to soften the severity of the look. There are no tendrils in this photo. I peer closer at the sign. YOUNG CONCERT SERIES PRESENTS MIA HALL. ~ Gayle Forman

The Senate is turning into a political quagmire." She folded her legs beneath her on the sofa and began unbraiding her hair, a lengthy process she had always found calming. "And it's our own fault. After Palpatine, nobody wanted to hand over that much power again, so we don't have an executive, only a chancellor with no real authority. Mon Mothma got things done through sheer charisma, but almost every chancellor since her has been ... " Han ~ Claudia Gray

Jax's eyes fell to my shoulder, and I realised he was looking at my hair. "Nice colour," he said.
"Thanks."
"Is that your rebellion flare?" he asked.
I couldn't help it. I laughed again. "It's rated number two for 'how to scare your dad' products, online."
"Right under piercings," he said.
"Actually, I think pregnancy tests are number one," I said, and he laughed.
"And we can't forget tattoos," Jax offered.
"I've got that one covered." I raised my wrist with a smile. I had been waiting for this moment for a long time. ~ Katie Kacvinsky

The surprise lay in the third niche of the high altar, on the side where the Gospels were kept. The stone shattered at the first blow of the pickax, and a stream of living hair the intense color of copper spilled out of the crypt. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

An enormous bartender came over. He looked like the pullout centerfold for Leather Biker Monthly. Extra big and extra scary. He had long hair, a long scar, and tattoos of snakes slithering up both arms. He shot the two men a glare and - poof - they were gone. Like the glare had evaporated them. Then he turned his eyes toward Esperanza. She met the glare and gave him one back. Neither backed down. "Lady, what the fuck are you?" he asked. "Is that a new way of asking what I'm drinking?" "No." The mutual glaring continued. He leaned two massive snake-arms on the bar. "You're too good-looking to be a cop," he said. "And you're too good-looking to be hanging out in this toilet. ~ Harlan Coben

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

Curse him for being all tight muscle, with ivory skin and a mouth as soft as rose petals. Curse him for having hair as fair as the sun, and eyes as black as night. Curse him for having the grace of a cat and deft, cool hands.
And now I am having the same argument on paper that I have in my own head on too many nights. I know my choice is sensible, but it isn't my common sense I think with, those times Rosto's stolen a kiss from me. ~ Tamora Pierce

Holden stopped next to the desk and turned around to look at the woman sitting on the couch. Graying hair, but good features and an athletic build. In a flophouse like this, that probably meant a prostitute reaching the end of her shelf life. ~ James S.A. Corey

I've lived in L.A. for a long time, and they say, 'If you sit in a barber's shop for long enough, you will get a hair cut.' Well, if you live in Los Angeles for long enough, you're going to get some surgery. ~ Robbie Williams

In Sardinia one summer my best friend Marisa Berenson and I ironed each other's hair. We used a hot laundry iron and took turns putting our hair on the ironing board, literally ironing it. That's a recipe for straightening that may be highly successful, but is definitely not recommended. ~ Diane Von Furstenberg

She couldn't stop thinking about Elias. His hands caressing her feet, his arms around her body, his fingers entangled in her hair
he was so warm. It wasn't only the temperature, it was some deep connection that ran down to her soul, his touch mollifying the core of her. And his voice
it was no wonder the magic ceased when he spoke. It was so deep, but so level
not even the most kindhearted and loving women deserved to hear such a sexy sound come out of a man's mouth. ~ Allie Burke

As her dreams intensified, the red-haired girl became so real to Olivia that she found herself absentmindedly sketching her image during the day, bringing her to life on the page. She drew her surrounded by the flowers she held in her hands- white harebell, pink campion, and yellow cinquefoil- entwining them into the curls in her hair, until the flowers and plants were not around her, but part of her. A true child of the woodland. ~ Hazel Gaynor

Madge, her eldest sister, looked about forty, rather than thirty two. Her black dress drained her of colour; her shoulders had adopted their perpetual hunched position, which she had adopted to compensate for her height. As a child Madge had towered over her peers, stopping only when she reached five foot eleven. Lesley knew, without seeing them, that she would be wearing the usual flat shoes, the only footwear she would allow anywhere near her size eight feet. Sitting beside Madge, Pamela, her youngest sister, blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, was thankfully dressed fairly decorously in a black coat over a black pinstripe tunic dress with a high neckline. Remembering Pamela's usual mode of dress, Lesley could only deduce that their mother must have prevailed upon her this time, in deference to the occasion. To her left Alan, at twenty four, the baby of the family, was talking in low tones to his girlfriend Erica, his fair hair and her dark locks forming a striking contrast. From Erica's expression however, she guessed that Alan was currently on the receiving end of her infamous (and often malicious) acerbic wit.


~ Phyl Wright

But as to your writing me that I don't love you very much, I don't know whether you're saying this in earnest or whether I should realise that you're joking with me. Still, what you say disturbs me. You are measuring a very healthy expression of a wife's loyalty by the standard of the insincere flattery of well-worn phrases. But I shall love you, my husband. What does it mean to you that you reassure me with those trivial little compliments? Do you want me to believe that you expect me to comb my hair in a stylish fashion for your homecoming? Or to feign adoring looks with a painted face? Let women without means, who worry and have no confidence in their virtue, flutter their eyelashes and play games to gain favour with their husbands. This is the adulation of a fox and the birdlime of deceitful bird hunting. I don't want to have to buy you at such a price. I'm not a person who lays more stock in words than duty. I am truly your Laura, whose soul is the same one you in turn had hoped for. ~ Laura Cereta

It's been really fun to see with each album when I change to see the fans of the show emulate my style and with the first record a lot of the kids in the crowd were wearing neck ties like I was and now you'll see a lot of girls with pink hair. It's cool, it's actually really neat. ~ Avril Lavigne

How sad to be a woman - not to know Aught of the glory of this breast of snow, All unconcerned to comb this mighty hair; To be a woman and yet never know! Were I a woman, I would all day long Sing my own beauty in some holy song, Bend low before it, hushed and half afraid, And say "I am a woman" all day long. ~ Christopher Hitchens

You like the way I dress The way I wear my hair Show me off to all your friends Baby, I don't care Just as long as you tell them who I am Tell them I'm the one that made you give a damn ~ Jennifer Lopez

Remaining relaxed in his seat, he murmured, "Take down your hood."
A slender white hand reached up, and she complied. The hood slipped away from hair so vividly red that it eclipsed the embers in the fireplace.
Sebastian shook his head in bemusement as he recognized the young woman. The ridiculous creature from the house party at Stony Cross Park. A shy, stammering twit, whose red hair and voluptuous figure might make her tolerable company as long as she kept her mouth shut. They had never actually spoken. Miss Evangeline Jenner, he recalled. She had the largest, roundest eyes he had ever seen, rather like the eyes of a wax doll... or a young child. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Because it was the right thing?"
"Oh shit, I hope not."
"Afraid of becoming noble?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.
"That too. But basically, that's the worst reason I can think of for killing. 'That its the right thing to do'. You kill out of outrage or fury or to keep from dying or something like it, that's fine. Hell, kill them rather than bother with them - or be bothered by them. But if you're killing them because 'its the right thing to do', its only the right thing because you've done so many wrong things up until then to make that spot. It's not the right thing to do. It's the best of the last of your choices."
"That's the longest I've ever heard you talk at one time."
"That's because you never ask me about my hair. ~ John Steakley

From the east a spring breeze is touching us,
passing by,
And so in the goblet in the green wine
tiny ripples are formed.
The blossoms stolen by the whirl
are falling to the earth.
My fair girl will be drunken soon
with her blushed cheeks.
Beside the blue pavilion the peach tree -
Do you know, how long it will bloom?
It's a trembling shine, a dream:
it cheats us and steals away.
Rise and dance!
The sun is fading!
Who never was full of demanding live
and crazy in his young days
will vainly - when the hair
is white - sigh and wail. ~ Li Bai

You want to know what death is! I'll tell you what it is - death is the living forgetting you! What you smell like and look like, what your voice sounds like, how you laugh! Even if there is an afterlife, my death is going to be you going on without me until you can't remember what color my eyes are or how long my hair is - ~ J.R. Ward