Purple Hair Quotes

I don't know how it happened, and I don't know why, but this
what she and I have
it's solid. You don't need to worry about her. I'd rather cut off my own arms than hurt a single purple hair on her head. I'll look after her. ~ Ella Frank

Insanity," said Hatta, still mesmerized by his royal purple hair. "That always seemed the strangest word because it actually means out of sanity. Shouldn't someone who's in sanity be very sane? In means out. Curious."
"And they think we're the mad ones," laughed the smiling Cheshire Cat. ~ Daniel Coleman

I was a strange child. I was the kid with funny hair listening to dodgy music [ ... ] I'd come in with my hoodie and skate-shoes, with purple hair under the hood. I got away with it because I spent all my time in the art room, so they figured I was 'artistic'. I was that kind of kid, listening to Green Day and the Deftones and all that kind of thing. ~ Katie McGrath

I reach over and stroke her hair. When I do, a few of the strands fall off in my fingers. I pull my hand back and slowly wrap them around my finger as I walk to my room and pick my purple hair clip up off the floor. I open the clip and place the strands of hair inside and snap it shut. I place the clip under my bedroom pillow and I go back to my mother's room. I slide into the bed beside her and wrap my arms around her. She finds my hand and we interlock fingers as we talk without saying a single word. ~ Colleen Hoover

The woman who emerged had to be eight feet tall. Her hair was every shade of purple, piled in buns and hanging in braids, and all of it sprinkled with gems like stars. ~ Brenda Cooper

I went to a very mean school and was bullied like crazy. I was a bit of a goth with purple hair, and I was also part of the drama group, which was filled with actors and writers and wasn't really accepted by the rest of the school. ~ Christina Hendricks

Purple Hair stopped dusting blush over Cameron's cheeks. "Hold up. Are you talking about the dark-haired guy who came in with you? The one who searched me before I could do your makeup?" Cameron grimaced. "Sorry about that." "Don't be - it was the highlight of my month." Purple Hair threw her a get-real stare. "That's the guy you're holding out on? Sweetie, you need to grab that stallion and ride him like a cowgirl. ~ Julie James

Peter. The fine hair along her spine rising, Vicky could feel the power in a name. This is who you are, it said. Come back to us. ~ Tanya Huff

His hand passed repeatedly over her hair in the gentlest of caresses, and she heard him murmur in his dark-angel voice, Rest, my love. I'm watching over you. ~ Lisa Kleypas

One thing that creates difference between pilgrims of life as they journey along the various paths of life is their head. It makes some fall, others rest and some pursue to the farther.
The reason for the difference is not the size, shape, hair color or the style of their head but what is within their head, what fills their mind, what enters their ears; what their eyes look and see, what their ears hear and listen to; make some champions of life and others wanders of life. ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

I relaxed my cheek against her hair. She always smelled so good, felt so good. Being near her was like a sedative. My entire body relaxed, and I was suddenly so tired, I didn't want to move. We sat together, our arms around each other, her head tucked in against my neck, for the longest time. Nothing beyond that moment was guaranteed, so I stayed there inside of it, with Pigeon. ~ Jamie McGuire

We were those girls, the artist's daughters, the mermaids, the ones with long, tangled hair who did what they wanted. Inside, always, we knew we were free." - Stacey D'Erasmo ~ Stacey D'Erasmo

Following Peabody's distracted gaze, Eve had her first view of Jess Barrow. He was beautiful. A painting in motion with a long, shining mane of hair the color of polished oak. His eyes were nearly silver, thickly lashed, intensely focused, as he worked the controls of an elaborate console. His complexion was flawless, tanned to bronze set off by rounded cheekbones and a strong chin. His mouth was full and firm, and his hands, as they flew over the controls, were as finely sculptured as marble.

"Roll up your tongue, Peabody," Eve suggested, "before you step on it."

"God. Holy God. He's better in person. Don't you just want to bite him?"

"Not particularly, but you go ahead."

Catching herself, Peabody flushed to the roots of her hair. She shifted on her sturdy legs. This was, she reminded herself, her superior. "I admire his talent."

"Peabody, you're admiring his chest. It's a pretty good one, so I can't hold it against you."

"I wish he would," she murmured, then cleared her throat as Big Mary stomped back with two dark brown bottles. ~ J.D. Robb

I mean, we don't have to worry about it until winter, anyway," she said. "I was just wondering if you felt cured."
I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't feel cured. I felt like what Cole said - almost cured. A war survivor with a phantom limb. I still felt that wolf that I'd been: living in my cells, sleeping uneasily, waiting to be coaxed out by weather or a rush of adrenaline or a needle in my veins. I didn't know if that was real or suggested. I didn't know if one day I would feel secure in my skin, taking my human body for granted.
"You look cured," Grace said. Just her face was visible at the end of the shower curtain, looking in at me. She grinned and I yelled. Grace reached in just far enough to shut off the tap.
"I'm afraid," she said, whipping the shower curtain open all the way and presenting me with my towel, "this is the sort of thing you'll have to put up with in your old age." I stood there, dripping, feeling utterly ridiculous, Grace standing opposite, smiling with her challenge. There was nothing for it but to get over the awkwardness. Instead of taking the towel, I took her chin with my wet fingers and kissed her. Water from my hair ran down my cheeks and onto our lips. I was getting her shirt all wet, but she didn't seem to mind. A lifetime of this seemed rather appealing. I said gallantly, "That better be a promise. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Love yourself. Just love yourself. In fact, the love of the self cures every kind of problem you have with yourself. For instance, if someone calls you nappy-headed, it rolls right off your body, if you love nappy hair. Or if someone calls you buck-toothed or too black, that won't be a problem if you love being buck-toothed or black. If you love it, then so what. The development of self-love cures many of the ills that people suffer from. ~ Alice Walker

He twirled one coppery lock around his finger, and that seemed to rouse her from her stunned silence.
"Stop that," she whispered, a troubled expression crossing her face.
"Why?" he smoothed her hair down over one shoulder, thinking that she had the creamiest skin he'd ever seen, skin that was just begging to be touched. She gasped when he stroked one finger up along the curved contours of her neck. "It's not..proper," she said.
That made him smile. "Proper? We crossed the line from proper to improper right after you left the Chastity. You're on a pirate ship, remember? You're alone in a cabin with a notorious pirate captain..you've lost your proper little cap..and I'm about to kiss you."
As soon as he'd said the words, he knew they were a mistake-and not because of the outrage that filled her face. It would be dangerous to kiss her. She wasn't the woman for him.
But he had to taste her once, just a little taste. So before a protest could even leave her lips, he brought his mouth down to hers. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

A few moments passed by until I heard a door open, a few light footsteps then a whisper,"If she has blonde hair, a mole on her left cheek and huge tits, close the door right fucking now. ~ L.A. Casey

So, what's the big emergency, princess? You and ice-boy look fine to me, and the Nevernever isn't crumbling around us. What's going on?"
"I'm pregnant, Puck," I said quietly, and watched his eyebrows shoot into his hair. Briefly,I explained what had happened at Elysium, the oracle's mysterious appearance and invitation, and Grimalkin's instruction to meet him at the Wishing Tree. By the time I was done, Puck was still staring at me openmouthed, struck mute for maybe the second time in his life, and I would've laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.
"Oh," he finally managed. "That's, uh ... Wow. That's not something you hear every day. Not exactly what I was expecting, though the entire prophecy thing does get old after a while." He shook himself, seeming to regain his composure, and glanced at Ash. "So, it's the ever so popular Firstborn Child of Doom prophecy, huh, ice-boy? How very cliche. Why can't it be the third nephew twice removed who's fated to destroy the world? ~ Julie Kagawa

You will go there again. You will. I'm not about to pretend otherwise. It's all or nothing, Chris. All the dark, hated places you go, you go with me. You have to trust me enough to love that part of you as much as I do the rest." "You don't know what you're asking." "It's not a question. It's not even close to a request. This is how it has to be." His lashes lower; his struggle is palpable, and I soften instantly, hurting as he hurts. My fingers find his hair, stroking tenderly. "Let me love what you hate. Let me do that for you." He presses his cheek to mine, his whiskers a welcome rasp on my cheek. "God, woman. I can't lose you." I close my eyes and whisper, "I'm not going anywhere. ~ Lisa Renee Jones

When the soldier returns from the wars, even though he has white hair, he very soon finds a young wife. But a woman has only one summer; if she does not make hay while the sun shines, no one will afterwards have anything to say to her, and she spends her days consulting oracles that never send her a husband. ~ Aristophanes

GGRRROOCCCCK...
Ian's knees buckled. The rock outcropping shook the ground, sending a spew of grayish dust that quickly billowed around them.
Shielding his eyes, he spotted Amy standing by the figurine, which was now moving toward her. She was in shock, her backpack on the ground by her feet.
"Get back!" he shouted.
Ian pulled Amy away and threw her to the ground, landing on top of her. Gravel showered over his back, embedding into his hair and landing on the ground like a burst of applause.
His second though was that the shirt would be ruined. And this was the shock of it-that his first thought had not been about the shirt. Or the coin. Or himself.
It had been about her.
But that was not part of the plan. She existed for a purpose. She was a tactic, a stepping stone. She was...
"Lovely," he said.
Amy was staring up at him, petrified, her eyelashes flecked with dust. Ian took her hand, which was knotted into a fist. "Y-y-you don't have to do that," she whispered.
"Do what?" Ian asked.
"Be sarcastic. Say things like 'lovely.' You saved my life. Th-thank you."
"My duty," he replied. He lowered his head and allowed his lips to brush hers. Just a bit. ~ Peter Lerangis

I was physically revolted by and secretly frightened of those round moronic eyes, the pancake face, and orangeworms hair. ~ Toni Morrison

You're trembling," he said. "I think I'm scared." "But why?" He smoothed his hand over her hair. "I was a fool to have left you alone, but it won't happen again." "I've never had anyone try to kill me before." Richard patted her back gently. "'Tis a bit unnerving the first time. ~ Lynn Kurland

Is that branch worrying you?" Simon asked her. "Would you like to change places? I hope you wouldn't because your hair looks so nice against the leaves ~ Dodie Smith

When Diana returned to work on Monday, September 16, she came directly to my bedroom and announced, "Mrs. Robertson, I have something important to tell you." I could see out of the corner of my eye that she had a slight, mischievous grin on her face.
"Go right ahead," I said as I continued to blow-dry my hair in front of the mirror above the dresser.
"No, Mrs. Robertson, I'd like your full attention." I switched off my hair dryer and faced her as she stood in the doorway. "When you leave for work this morning, you'll notice a lot of reporters and photographers at the entrance to the mews."
I wondered aloud if the press were following either Lord Vestey, a notorious international financier, or John Browne, a bright young M.P. known as one of "Maggie's boys," both of whom lived on our small street.
"No, actually, Mrs. Robertson, they're waiting for me," Diana said with a great deal of blushing, staring at the floor, and throat clearing.
"Good heavens, Diana, why?"
"Well . . . I spent last weekend at Balmoral."
"With Prince Andrew?" I asked, remembering my friend Lee's comment on the way to Glyndebourne.
"No, actually, I was there to see Prince Charles." More blushes and throat clearing, quickly followed by her disclaimer, "But he didn't invite me. His mother did." Hearing Diana speak of Her Majesty the Queen as "his mother" certainly gave me a clear picture of the circles in which Diana moved.
I gasped and asked, probably rather tact ~ Mary Robertson

JACKSON'S DARK BROWN HAIR curled up on his shirt collar. Black lashes and heavy brows framed his blue eyes. A few crow's-feet around his eyes were the only sign that he'd just passed his fortieth birthday and they were minimized in the dim restaurant lights. His jeans were creased and stacked up over his highly polished black boots just the right way. Waitresses stopped what they were doing and gazed at him over their shoulders as he passed. Their ~ Carolyn Brown

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

Stripped of the diadem and purple, clothed in a vile habit, and loaded with chains, he was transported in a small boat to the Imperial galley of Heraclius, who reproached him with the crimes of his abominable reign. "Wilt thou govern better?" were the last words of the despair of Phocas. ~ Edward Gibbon

Stroking her hair, he swallowed and spoke, but his voice was shattered. "I love you," he said, telling her what she had told him that terrible day in his study. "I never stopped loving you."
She raised her face to his, and her answer made his chest ache. "I know."
"How did you know, sweetheart?" he asked, trying to smile.
"Because," she said, "I wanted it so badly to be true, and you've always given me everything I wanted. I couldn't believe you wouldn't do it, just one more time. Just once more."
She moved slightly and Ian checked her, tightening his arms. "Stay still, darling," he whispered tenderly, and seeing her confusion, he told her, "because our child is being conceived."
Her eyes searched his. "Why do you think so?"
"Because," he said, slowly smoothing her hair off her cheek, "I want it so badly to be true, and you've always given me everything I wanted." A lump of emotion swelled in Ian's chest as she pressed closer against him, cradled in his arms, not moving. She was willing it to be true; he knew it as surely as he knew that, somehow, it was. ~ Judith McNaught

I have not had so good of a week. Well, monday was a pretty good day, if you don't count Hamburger Surprise at lunch and Margaret's mother coming to get her. Or the stuff that happened in the principal's office when I got sent there to explain that Margaret's hair was not my fault and besides she looks okay without it, but I couldn't because Principal Rice was gone, trying to calm down Margaret's mother. Someone should tell you not to answer the phone in the principal's office, if that's a rule. Okay, fine, Monday was not so good of a day. ~ Sara Pennypacker

I only grow hair in places that men like. ~ Lea Thompson

Was the secret boyfriend." Jett's hand shot through his dark hair as he tried to calm down the angry voice inside him. No good in lashing out at the people around him. They weren't to blame. "I tried ~ J.C. Reed

Leo backed me against the door frame, his demeanor turning all 'take-no-prisoners' as he pinned me in place with his hips. His hands traced up and down the curve of my body until they wound their way through the loose strands of my hair. He was in control, I was totally at his mercy, and I. Didn't. Even. Care. ~ Sarah Darlington

She burst into tears. Not dainty, feminine tears, but a messy, red-faced explosion of sobs. The most terrible, beautiful, stunning feeling she'd ever known had come crashing over her in a huge wave, and she was drowning in it.
Gabriel stared at her with alarm, fumbling in his coat pocket for a handkerchief. "No, no... you weren't supposed to... my God, Pandora, don't do that. What is it?" He mopped at her face until she took the handkerchief from him and blew her nose, her shoulders shaking. Ashe continued to hover and ask worried questions, Phoebe left the piano and came to them.
Keeping Pandora folded deeply in his embrace, Gabriel cast a distracted glance at his sister. "I don't know what's wrong," he muttered.
Phoebe shook her head and reached up to ruffle his hair fondly. "Nothing's wrong, lunkhead. You came into her life like a lightning strike. Anyone would feel a bit scorched. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Her hair was a damp mass of curls at the back of her neck, and Will looked away from her before he could remember what it felt like to put his hands through that hair and feel the strands wind about his fingers. It was easier at the Institute, with Jem and the others to distract him, to remember that Tessa was not his to recall that way. Here, feeling as if he were facing the world with her by his side
feeling that she was here for him instead of, quite sensibly, for the health of her own fiance
it was nearly impossible. ~ Cassandra Clare

I knew I was Chinese, but growing up, it never occurred to me that that had any particular implication or that it should differentiate me in any way. I thought it was a minor detail, like having red hair. ~ David Henry Hwang

The orange and purple ones destroyed my home. Now Ma Gasket will destroy theirs! Do you hear me, Leo? Jason? Piper? I come to annihilate you! ~ Rick Riordan

I took his razor from the shower floor, bits of his black hair still caked between the blades. I took his toothbrush from the sink counter and sucked on the bristles, trying to find the taste of him, but there was only the flavor of watery mint toothpaste....I pulled the sheets off the bed with the idea that I could gather up the imprint of him and save it. I thought, I can unfurl the sheets on our old bed at home. I can lie in the creases formed by his body. I can sleep with him again. ~ Cristina Henriquez

i tried my hardest to concentrate on the movie. to be honest though i had no idea what it was about but i could tell you that rosie didn't seem to like lime flavored candy because she didn't eat one green one; that she twisted her hair around her finger in a clockwise motion while she was engrossed in the film and that she cries at romantic parts. i kind of felt a little like a stalker but i just couldn't take my eyes off her, that was the best movie ever in my opinion ~ Kirsty Moseley

Race is a lie built on a lie. The first lie is that people are different, somehow skin color or hair texture is more significant than eye color, or the shape of one's feet. The second lie built on top of that is that there's a hierarchy that more significant difference, the color showing up as brown on your skin rather than brown in your hair, or whatever, is somehow more significant and there's some sort of hierarchy. That the lighter you are, the straighter your hair, the better you are. ~ Benjamin Jealous

He nuzzled her hair. "I've never been with a lady before. I don't know the rules."

"Fortunately, I'm an unusual sort of woman. Mrs. Barrington did her best to change that, but she never succeeded, bless her."

"Why should she want to change you?"

Beth warmed. "My lord, I do believe you are the most flattering man of my acquaintance."

Ian paused, his expression unreadable. "I state truths. You are perfect as you are. ~ Jennifer Ashley

Oh, mention it! If I storm, you have the art of weeping."

"Mr. Rochester, I must leave you."

"For how long, Jane? For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair - which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face - which looks feverish?"

"I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes."

"Of course: I told you you should. I pass over the madness about parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to the new existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: I am not married. You shall be Mrs. Rochester - both virtually and nominally. I shall keep only to you so long as you and I live. You shall go to a place I have in the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error - to make you my mistress. Why did you shake your head? Jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth I shall again become frantic."

His voice and hand quivered: his large nostrils dilated; his eye blazed: still I dared to speak.

"Sir, your wife is living: that is a fact acknowledged this morning by yourself. If I lived with you as you desire, I should then be your mistress: to say otherwise is sophistical - is false."

"Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man - you forget that: I am not ~ Charlotte Bronte

Hey there," she said, her blue eyes shimmering.
Collin swallowed hard, and took her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest. "Hey, yourself," he murmured into her hair, and kissed her head. He held her there for as long as he could without it becoming awkward, then gripped her shoulders and stepped back. ~ Tracy March

Sometimes I feel mad at her. Feel like I could scratch her hair right off her head. But then I think, Shug got a right to live too. She got a right to look over the world in whatever company she choose. Just cause I love her don't take none of her rights. ~ Alice Walker

The urge at that moment to reach across and touch Willow
to link his fingers through hers as she rested her hand on her thigh, or stroke her bright hair back from her temple
was almost overpowering. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Yep, definitely time for a coffee break," he said, closing his eyes. "You see right through me. ~ L.A. Weatherly

You know my belief in bald-headed Fortune, with the one solitary hair. Well, I meant to grab that hair ... ~ Emmuska Orczy

Every time I saw Lacey, she'd gained five more pounds. She was turning into the kind of obese girl who does her hair like a forties pinup and wears bright red lipstick, a blue polka-dot dress with a white doily collar, colorful tattoos across her huge, smushed cleavage, as if these considerations would distract us from how fat and miserable she'd become. ~ Ottessa Moshfegh

Riley pulled on his jeans and she almost moaned. Focus, Mercy.

"I'll check," he said, zipping up those damn jeans as she slid on her own. "But we might get lucky with an insomniac."

When he turned, she saw the marks on his back were almost healed. Fast, even for a changeling. Which meant Riley was more powerful than she'd guessed, more than he let on.

There was nothing flashy about him. Just
- "What the - " His hands were on her waist and his mouth on hers before she could do more than gasp. Lightning. Bright. Sizzling. Perfect. This time she did moan, wrapping her arms around him and luxuriating in his strength, in the sheer speed with which he'd come at her. With both of them only wearing jeans, her breasts were pressed against the exquisite roughness of the hairs on his chest. She rubbed against him, giving in to the leopard's innate sensuality.

He tore away his lips but they remained less than a millimeter apart. "This is your fault."

"Hell, no." She sucked on his neck, biting him a little too hard for emphasis. "You jumped my bones." Tugging back her head with a hand fisted in her hair, he glared down at her.

"You were all but licking me the way you were looking."

"Looking's not the same as touching." Her mouth watered at the idea of licking him. They'd been in too much of a rush last night. Even the second and third time. As if they'd both been hungry so long, they'd needed to gorg ~ Nalini Singh

I have scars on my hand from touching certain people. Once, in the park, when Frannie was still in the carriage, I put my hand on the downy pate of her head and left it there too long. Another time, at Loew's Seventy-second Street, with Zooey during a spooky movie. He was about six or seven, and he went under the seat to avoid watching a scary scene. I put my hand on his head. Certain heads, certain colors and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me. Other things, too. Charlotte once ran away from me, outside the studio, and I grabbed her dress to stop her, to keep her near me. A yellow cotton dress I loved because it was too long for her. I still have a lemon-yellow mark on the palm of my right hand. ~ J.D. Salinger

I think people need more to do in their life if my hair pisses them off. ~ Anne Burrell

When she looked in the glass and saw her hair grey her cheek sunk, at fifty, she thought, possibly she might have managed things better
her husband; money; his books. But for her own part she would never for a single second regret her decision, evade difficulties, or slur over duties ~ Virginia Woolf

We slept, if one might call such a condition by so strong a name - for it was a sleep set with a hair-trigger. ~ Mark Twain

What's your name?" he asked, a boyish grin creeping across his face.
"Henley Brooks," I murmured, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"My name's Lucas."
"I know," I replied, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth. His grin grew larger as he ran his fingers through his dark hair.
"No wonder you look so scared. ~ Teresa Mummert

What have you done to your hair?" Mom's broken voice said, pinning me back to this tiny hospital
room.
"Holy shit!" Icka patted her head as if searching. "You think the nurse stole it? She looked shady. ~ Phoebe Kitanidis

Lizzie ignored the hair in her armpits and on her legs. It had gone from stubble to dark hair. F*** it. End of the world rules apply. ~ Robert L. Slater

I hate hats! Hats just give you really bad hair! I had a hat sometimes. Frankly, you get burnt so much anyway, it's beside the point. And when you're walking into the western sun, no hat in the world is going to save your face and neck from being sizzled. ~ Robyn Davidson