Softens Hair Quotes

You are the lifemate of a senstive, modern male. Julian's lazy amusement warmed her further, confirming what she already suspected, that he often stayed a shadow in her mind.
How fortunate for me. Desari smiled at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. There was a sparkle in her eyes. She knew Julian had made her feel more alive than she had ever been. Sensitive, modern men are so to my liking.
Men? I am certain I did not hear my lifemate use the word men.The plural.No man is allowed to be to your liking other than myself. He sounded stern, the fierce Carpathian male at his most menacing.
Desari laughed aloud. I suppose I can see your point, Julian, but really, it is so difficult to keep from noticing all of those handsome hunks in the audience.
Handsome hunks? His voice dropped low with the affront. They are more like lovesick fops. If they could feel the vibrations in the air, they would show sense and run for their lives. It is bad enough to read their fantasies and hear them talk their trash, cara,but it is altogether worse to hear that my woman is looking back. One smile at the wrong man, lifemate, and trouble will find the man quickly.
You sound jealous,she accused him, amusement curving her soft mouth.
The first rule for all women to know and never forget is that Carpathian makes do not share their lifemates. Your brother has much to answer for that this was not drilled into you since birth.It was his job ~ Christine Feehan

He kissed me, so gently at first that I melted. I pressed close against him as the kiss deepened, curling my arms around his neck and tumbling into pure sensation. The softness of his hair as I ran my fingers through it; his arms hands on my skin, caressing me. It felt so, so good. I'd been afraid that I'd never have this again
this sense of being so achingly alive that every nerve ending was on fire. ~ L.A. Weatherly

A young girl, no older than fourteen, her hair dyed green and orange and pink, stared at them as they went by. She sat beside a dog, a mongrel, with a piece of string for a collar and a leash. She looked hungrier than the dog did. The dog yapped at them, then wagged its tail. Shadow gave the girl a dollar bill. She stared at it as if she was not sure what it was. 'Buy dog food with it,' Shadow suggested. She nodded, and smiled. ~ Neil Gaiman

He buried his hands in the rich velvet of her hair. I thought I'd die for wanting you. ~ Teresa Medeiros

And this time it's different. This time our bodies slide together like they were made to fit. This time Tyson doesn't have to tell me to look at him, because I can't stop. He is all that I see, every inch of dark skin, every curl of hair, every scar or tiny imperfection that all combine to make him seem…perfect. No, not perfect, but perfect for me.

This time it's not about needing an escape. This time it's about wanting a connection. ~ Paula Stokes

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

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 smoothed her hair, tugged down the hem of her dress. She would have to act normal, pretend nothing had happened. But Alex knew that wouldn't be a problem. She'd been doing it her whole life. ~ Leigh Bardugo

I knew everything about the back of that head - the swirl of his hair, the curve of his ear, the straight, sharp line of his jaw. I liked the way he smelled like soap even late in the afternoon. ~ Karen Thompson Walker

I thought you said he was your twin?"
"Under that hair and beard, he is. ~ Sarah McCarty

God ... this was who he loved, he thought. And always would. It was the thrust of that stubborn jaw, and the dark, slashing eyebrows, and those piercings up his ear and in his full lower lip. It was that thick, glossy black hair and the golden skin and that heavily muscled body. It was the way he laughed and the fact that he never, ever cried. It was the scars on his inside no one knew about and the conviction that he would always be the first to run into a burning building or a bloody fight or a car wreck. It was all the things Qhuinn had been and was ever going to be. ~ J.R. Ward

I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth and yet last the longest in the dust. ~ Lord Byron

You see? This is what's wrong with the world. A young lady with bleached hair, an estuarine accent and unfeasible breasts can outsell a respected expert with decades of wisdom and experience."
"She's human interest," replied May.. "You're not. People reading her story will feel that if she can make it without talent, maybe they can. ~ Christopher Fowler

Dr Isabella Perugini stopped on the bank opposite us, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her white lab coat falling below her knees. She slid off her high heeled shoes and began to pick her way across the stream, trying to balance on the rocks jutting out of the water. Her dark complexion was more flushed than usual, her eyes narrowed at me. "You again?" She said it as she executed a hop from one rock to another. "I thought I sorted you out! ~ Robert J. Crane

She was probably my age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling gray,like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.
She glanced at the minotaur horn in my hand, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a Minotaur! or Wow you're so awesome! or something like that.
Instead she said, "you drool when you sleep."
Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her. ~ Rick Riordan

If ever there was a bloke at the very mention of whose name it would be excusable for people to tremble like aspens, that bloke is Sir Roderick Glossop. He has an enormous bald head, all the hair which ought to be on it seeming to have run into his eyebrows, and his eyes go through you like a couple of Death Rays.
"How are you, how are you, how are you?" I said, overcoming a slight desire to leap backwards out of the window. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

She became uncharacteristically silent, and I suppressed a chuckle. I knew exactly what Jax's body looked like. All of it. It didn't compare to Tristan's, but I could understand why Blossom would be impressed. The man-croc lacked nothing excpect hair ~ Kristie Cook

Mrs. Hammon told me that God made my hair red on purpose and I haven't card for him since. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Flowers are the beautiful hairs of the Mother Spring! Don't pluck them! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

According to the wire, you are resting well and are being taken care of by a nurse. I hope she is beautiful and that she has red hair. I don't know why, but whenever I dream of a nurse she always has red hair. Red hair makes a man want to recover his health quickly, so that he can get on his feet and get the nurse off hers." - Groucho Marx, letter to his son ~ Groucho Marx

With Jason I thought I'd finally played my cards right, and now I'm just one more of those
broken, sad people out there, figuring out a year in advance where they can have Easter and
Christmas dinner without feeling like a burden or duty to others, cursing the quality of modern
movies because it's so hard to fill weeknights with movies when they're all crap, and waiting, just
waiting, for those three drinks a night to turn into four - and then, well, then I'll be applying my
makeup in the morning, combing my hair, washing my clothes, but it's not really for anyone. I'm
alive, but so what. ~ Douglas Coupland

Nico looked very tall and thin wearing a opaque black sweatshirt hoodie and dark inked skinny jeans. His outer physical structure was handsome and gaunt, straight jet black hair razored and clipped in angles, a few purple highlights, and his white skin toned the color of alabaster. She had always liked the slender salamander type. He totally looked punk rock tonight, and that made him look absolutely awesome! A curtain of fog parted in front of him, giving him even more of the illusion as if he was part of a rock band at a rock band concert. Katty now saw Nico with exaggerated clarity. Nico Rocket looked so freakin' hot! He looked so good-looking at times, especially within the dark scenes of rolling fog and a pitchy darkness. She randomly wondered what he looked like before he was bit and turned into a Vampire. Had he been a Renaissance geek just like her? Before she could really examine him and fantasize of what he must have looked like before turning into a Vampire, the fog closed in all around him again, surrounding him with a ring of solitary imprisonment. He now lurked as a shadow among the shadows, disappearing into the illusion of gray's. She didn't like him for not showing up on time, but all had been forgiven as soon as she had seen him all dressed up in his Gothic best. So what if he didn't believe in punctuality? His hotness sure made up for the rest! Through the fog, she saw his bright red eyes pierce through the heaviness of the darkness. He then broke free from ~ Keira D. Skye

When everyone you loved in your life is gone, you have days when the wind comes into your house like a person. You get so alone the wind sits down at your table and tries to have itself a cup of coffee, but it can't, there's no time, it has to move on, it's the wind. I'm not saying the wind is a ghost, only that the feeling is of the wind, the whole notion of the wind, is different when all people you ever loved are gone. It's not fresh air blowing through your hair and airing out your sheets and kitchen. No, sir. It's company. The wind is company that has to go ~ Jane McCafferty

By the smug smile on his face, I'd say he's enjoying me fumbling over myself. He closes the gap between us, his chest against mine. The urge to reach up and pull on his blond hair has my fingers twitching. ~ Eden Finley

It was very painful combing my hair. My grand-uncle was a Pentecostal bishop, and he was very strict: our hair couldn't be permed or straightened. So I just cut it all off. ~ Grace Jones

I think you might be a bully, Prince Henry."
"Well, in grade school I did enjoy pulling on the girls' braids. But these days I only tug on a woman's hair in a very specific situation." His voice drops lower. "Let me know if you're like a demonstration. ~ Emma Chase

4) Explain your hair. Seriously. What's up with that?
Answer: Fuck You. ~ Lauren McLaughlin

-Do you love this girl ?
-I'm fucking crazy about her.
-Fucking crazy I've gathered. But I asked if you love her. I'm talking true, enduring, unconditional, hold-her-hair-while-she's-pucking-from-the-morning-sickness love. ~ Cherrie Lynn

Nick laughed and gave in to the urge to brush Perry's fair hair out of his eyes ‑‑ his fingertips sensitive to the silky texture of eyebrows and hair, warm skin, eyelashes.
Perry's lashes fluttered down, concealing his eyes.
"Hey," Nick said huskily.
Perry gave him an uncertain look.
It was a mistake, of course. A huge mistake. But suddenly, urgently Nick wanted to taste Perry's mouth, so he bent his head. Perry's eyes widened, then their faces bumped, and his mouth found Perry's.
It was a gentle kiss, because Nick was thinking what a stupid thing this was to do, and that Perry, being inexperienced, would probably expect songbirds and firecrackers.
Perry tasted like hot chocolate and something warm and young and male. It was unexpectedly erotic. He responded sweetly, opening right up, and Nick's heart turned over in his chest. ~ Josh Lanyon

One of the more surreal days I've ever had in the recording studio was Martin Fry teaching Hugh Grant his old dance moves. Showing him how to do the hair-flip and the point, and all these sort of trademark moves of his. ~ Adam Schlesinger

Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there. ~ William Blake

A man who is strong and tough never needs to show it in his dress or the way he cuts his hair. Toughness is a quality of the mind, like bravery or honesty or ambition; it has nothing whatever to do with muscles. ~ E.R. Braithwaite

I felt Red's arm close around me like a shield against the rest of the world. His mouth was against my hair, and his heart thumped violently under my cheek. I shut my eyes, and held onto his shirt with both hands, and wept. ~ Juliet Marillier

Her eyes, they shone like diamonds I thought her the queen of the land And her hair, it hung over her shoulder Tied up with a black velvet band. ~ James Patterson

She'd missed the way he walked, the way he shoved his hands into his pockets when he was nervous, the way his dark hair fell into his mismatched eyes. The way a smile would flicker across his face before he committed to it, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world. ~ Kate Lattey

Jane." Molly rubbed her arm. "You've got so much going on! You don't need this Pembrook Park, and you definitely don't need Mr. Darcy."
"I know. I mean, he's not even real. He's not, he's not, I know he's not, but maybe ... "
"There's no maybe. He's not real."
Jane groaned. "But I don't want to have to settle."
"You always do. Every single guy you ever dated was a settle."
She sat up. "None of them loved me, did they? Ever. Some of them liked me or I was convenient but ... Am I truly that pathetic?"
Molly smoothed her hair. "No, of course not," she said, which meant, Yes, but I love you anyway. ~ Shannon Hale

I brushed my teeth like a crazed lunatic as I examined myself in the mirror. Why couldn't I look the women in commercials who wake up in a bed with ironed sheets and a dewy complexion with their hair perfectly tousled? I wasn't fit for human eyes, let alone the piercing eyes of the sexy, magnetic Marlboro Man, who by now was walking up the stairs to my bedroom. I could hear the clomping of his boots.
The boots were in my bedroom by now, and so was the gravelly voice attached to them. "Hey," I heard him say. I patted an ice-cold washcloth on my face and said ten Hail Marys, incredulous that I would yet again find myself trapped in the prison of a bathroom with Marlboro Man, my cowboy love, on the other side of the door. What in the world was he doing there? Didn't he have some cows to wrangle? Some fence to fix? It was broad daylight; didn't he have a ranch to run? I needed to speak to him about his work ethic.
"Oh, hello," I responded through the door, ransacking the hamper in my bathroom for something, anything better than the sacrilege that adorned my body. Didn't I have any respect for myself?
I heard Marlboro Man laugh quietly. "What're you doing in there?" I found my favorite pair of faded, soft jeans.
"Hiding," I replied, stepping into them and buttoning the waist.
"Well, c'mere," he said softly.
My jeans were damp from sitting in the hamper next to a wet washcloth for two days, and the best top I could find was a cardinal and gold FIGHT ON ~ Ree Drummond

Martin Luther supposedly said, "You might not be able to stop the birds from landing on your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair. ~ Mike Bechtle

I thoroughly believe in crying, yelling, pulling my hair out, and experiencing heartache, BUT once I'm done I dissect the pain and learn lessons from it. ~ Lilly Singh

For the hair has grown on my upper lip
And the clergy are all clean-shaven ~ George Orwell

I didn't realize how many actresses have tons of extensions. Their hair is still pretty, but it blew my mind to find that out. I admire the girls who switch it up a lot like Rihanna. But I also love Gisele Bundchen because she found a style that works and never changes it. ~ Shay Mitchell

I did feel funny about being fair and having red hair and freckles. I did not like that because I grew up in a neighbourhood where no one had red hair. I felt very conspicuous but not in a nice way. ~ Patti Scialfa

XXVII"

Naked, you are simple as a hand,
smooth, earthy, small...transparent, round.
You have moon lines and apple paths;
Naked, you are slender as the wheat.

Naked, Cuban blue midnight is your color,
Naked, I trace the stars and vines in your hair;
Naked, you are spacious and yellow
As a summer's wholeness in a golden church.

Naked, you are tiny as your fingernail;
Subtle and curved in the rose-colored dawn
And you withdraw to the underground world

As if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again. ~ Pablo Neruda

The will is in the cedar box in our bedroom closet,' she said into his hair. Declan closed his eyes. He whispered, 'I hate him.'
'My dauntless Declan,' Aurora said, and then she slid softly to the floor. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

And suddenly...it made a kind of emotional sense that caused me to feel, instantly, how little sense my earlier...assumptions had made...And with that thought it was as though my father stepped forward to meet me as he had been in 1940: twenty-five years old, newly married, teaching literature and history and religion as his first real job, as an assistant professor at Macalester College in St. Paul, Minnesota.

That stage of his life – and he in it – had always been indistinct to me, as the lives of parents before their children exist always are to those children; but now, holding this letter in my hands, I remembered anew and vividly the numerous photographs in our family albums of him then – a slender young man, intense-looking and handsome, with a shock of dark hair swept back from his high forehead. A radical young man, it would seem. More radical in many ways than my own son was now. A young man, ready, perhaps even eager to embrace the fate his powerful beliefs were calling him to. Sitting there, I felt a rush of love and pity for him in his youth, in his passionate convictions... ~ Sue Miller

People don't associate red hair, pale skin, and freckles with beauty. ~ Shirley Manson

Very good looking, with black hair and eyes, and lively complexion. ~ Charlotte Bronte

Not only did Josh know hair, but he's just turned a girl on and gotten her to ask him out, all by doing a bun. And he's done it with a pencil. Logan would never admit it, but that was superpower level in his book. ~ Erin Nicholas