Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I worked a lot with Mark Frankel, and he was really just an incredibly tender soul. He liked his hair just so and his suit. He was a good-looking man, and he cared about looking together.
I think so much of the look, obviously including wardrobe, but the hair is a huge thing because it's basically the frame for your eyes and that's the window to your soul is what they say.
In fact, my face has shrunk in the meantime, but it won't be particularly noticeable because it's covered up with hair. So I hope I'm not alarmed if I ever do sit through the five movies.
I remember when I was a child... walking into the woods by myself and feeling the solitude around me build like electricity and pass through my body with a jolt that made my hair prickle.
An hour before I got cast in [Victorious] they called and asked if it'd be okay for them to do ANYTHING they wanted with my hair, even a blue mohawk or a bald head and I eagerly said yes!
In Vegas, everyone lets their hair down a little bit and it's a little looser. You expect to see some different stuff and hear some different stuff. Even the red carpet is different here.
Older women can afford to agree that femininity is a charade, a matter of colored hair, ecru lace and whalebones, the kind of slap and tat that transvestites are in love with, and no more.
I would decriminalize marijuana, but you step out of your house high and you bother somebody else in any way, shape or form, I'm going to slap a fine on you that's going to curl your hair!
I look fine. I've had no surgery apart from an operation I had decades ago to remove the fat under my eyes. My mum looked 30 when she was 60, so I guess I owe it all to genes and hair dye.
The one broken window that permanently wouldn't roll up had destroyed her perfectly curled blond prom-hair, and by the time we got to the gym she looked like Marie Antoinette with bedhead.
No, there is no escape. There is no heaven with a little of hell in it--no plan to retain this or that of the devil in our hearts or our pockets. Out Satan must go, every hair and feather!
She had what it took: great hair, a profound understanding of strategic lip gloss, the intelligence to understand the world and a tiny secret interior deadness which meant she didn’t care.
The greatest charity you can contribute to is yourself. Instead of spending a dollar to help feed hungry children, why not spend that dollar on hair gel so you can get the perfect cowlick?
For years I had my hair parted down the middle in a ponytail, tucked down around the sides Well, I went and cut the bangs, and I've been wearing them ever since. They say it's my trademark.
I'm totally obsessed with Tilda Swinton. She has this strange, beautiful sexiness about her. I love everything she does. And I love her hair. It was a little bit of an inspiration for mine.
My hair had been dyed blonde for 'Dredd.' After 'Dredd,' I was really fried because of the blonde hair dye, and so I cut it into a bob with bangs and that's how it was during 'Being Flynn.'
By the end of the war, I could pick out Jewish people almost as if I had a sixth sense about it, even if they had blue eyes and blond hair. I would have been a very valuable Gestapo person.
Someone might say that's a naïve way of looking at things now, and I would respect their opinion, but I also respect every woman's right to wearing her own individual style, including hair.
I'm afraid to look in the mirror. I'm afraid I'm going to see an old lady with white hair, just like the old ladies in the park. Alittle bundle in a black shawl just waiting for the coffin.
Ian squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper through all the hair. His voice was so low that I was the only one who could hear. 'I held you in my hand, Wanderer. And you were so beautiful.
The American people and American businesses are looking to the federal government to lead our nation on the path to economic recovery. It is time to stop splitting hairs. It is time to act.
Junior high is so much worse than high school because at least in high school different is more accepted, celebrated actually: all the girls with blue hair and gothic Hello Kitty backpacks.
Prowling about the rooms, sitting down, getting up, stirring the fire, looking out the window, teasing my hair, sitting down to write, writing nothing, writing something and tearing it up...
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
The past is like the hair on our head. I moved to New York when I was twelve, but you always have this feeling that wherever you come from, you physically leave it, but it doesn't leave you.
Go on and close your eyes, go on imagine me there She's got similar features with longer hair And if that's what it takes to get you through Go on and close your eyes it shouldn't bother you
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grump-looking old man with a great deal of a long gray hair and a beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Harry.
In my 20s I used to cry about why I wasn’t thinner or prettier, but I want to add that I also used to cry about things like: ‘I wish my hair would grow faster. I wish I had different shoes …
Santa Jr. I was a cop. Yes, I was officially Santa. But a younger Santa. He goes young, clean-shaven, to how we imagine Santa with all the white hair and beard and "Ho ho ho." Kind of funny.
And there I was, 225 pounds, perpetually lost and confused, short legs, ape-like upper body, all chest, no neck, head too large, blurred eyes, hair uncombed, 6 feet of geek, waiting for her.
It's not that I have compromised or anything, but it's always been important to me to take good care of myself and be a good example. I'm not much a role model in terms of hair care, though.
Women will be saved by going back to that role that God has chosen for them. Ladies, if the hair on the back of your neck stands up it is because you are fighting your role in the scripture.
I know I'm not going to understand women. I'll never understand how you can take boiling hot wax, pour it onto your upper thigh, rip the hair out by the root, and still be afraid of a spider.
One of my mantras is, 'Embrace what makes you unique, even if it makes others uncomfortable.' I keep that with me in my back pocket. Shoot, I keep it in my front pocket! I keep it in my hair.
When you have short hair, there's just a feeling of here I am. What you see is what you get. And there's a confidence that comes with wearing short hair and I like the way that makes me feel.
Television excites me because it seems to be the last stamping ground of poetry, the last place where I hear women's hair rhapsodically described, women's faces acclaimed in odelike language.
Despair kinda smells like burnt hair. Sounds great, but smells lousy. Now fear... fear you can taste! Let's see, fear kinda tastes like... like peaches, peaches covered with fresh bone marrow
My art career actually began under the kitchen table. My mother wanted to get me out of her hair while she cooked, so she laid out some paper and pencils on the floor under the kitchen table.
Within days they'd formed an unholy alliance with a foppish young French vampire in the Garden District who had implausibly golden hair and a streak of ruthlessness as wide as the Mississippi
I won't deny that I'm in touch with my feminine side. If I'm in a lift and there's no one in there, I'll have a glance and check my hair. And if there's someone in there, I'll still check it.
My hair color is super important to my look because I feel like it helps kind of define who I am. It's like a characteristic of mine that makes me feel comfortable and different from the rest.
Let the word and the legend go before you. Let the world go before you. Let your shadow grow. Let it grow hair on its face. Let it become dark. Given time, words may even enchant an enchanter.
When she smiles, it feels like the first warm day of March-- after an eternity of snow, when you suddenly remember how summer feels on the backs of your bare calves & in the part of your hair.
I never wanted to wear skirts or shoes, makeup, nails, dresses, or even wear my hair a certain way. I always wanted to wear sneakers, stud earrings, hair in a ponytail, and play with the boys.
The real color of my hair is mouse. I always want to be ginger, which I was when I was born, or blond, because I live in L.A., and I want to look like I go surfing without any physical effort.
My hair is wild and free, but I've always been told that [straight hair] is more polished, and a more polished version of yourself is a better version of yourself. That it's more professional.
I've made no secret of the fact that I often wear wigs and have in fact launched my own Dynasty range, named after various characters. I find this saves a ton of time - as well as my own hair.
He seemed so certain about everything, didn't he? And yet none of his certainties was worth one hair of a woman's head. He wasn't even sure he was alive, because he was living like a dead man.
The media create this wonderful illusion-but the amount of airbrushing that goes into those beauty magazines-the hours of hair and makeup! It's impossible to live up to, because it's not real.
If you asked me to go back to being 14 or 15, I couldn't - it was a terrifying time. I was so awkward in my own skin. I used to hide behind my hair because I was so ridiculously self-conscious.