Hair Quotes
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As a people, Serbians are very tall, and we have olive skin and dark hair, which can look very nice. You have to be very beautiful to stand out.
Ana Ivanovic
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Toughening up, performing masculinity, pretending to enjoy things I didn't enjoy all enabled me to dodge the gender policing of the adults around me. But the way I really was - the swished hips, the Double-Dutching, the hair flips - seemed to always prevail and attract Dad's disdain.
Janet Mock
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Temptations, of course, cannot be avoided, but because we cannot prevent the birds from flying over our heads, there is no need that we should let them nest in our hair.
Martin Luther
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The more you mess with texture and colour, the worse your hair is going to feel.
Katherine Ryan
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It's true that people were told facial hair was not appreciated by the British public, but I just decided to keep the moustache.
Bob Ainsworth
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Laundry's easier when you live alone. Fifteen minutes before a date, put 'em on, dry 'em with a hair blower.
Elayne Boosler
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The real lost souls don't wear their hair long and play guitars. They have crew cuts and trained minds, sign on for research in biological warfare, and don't give their parents a moment's worry.
J. B. Priestley
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I wish I had more hair on my head. Maybe if I sprinkled fertilizer on it, it would grow.
Kylie Bax
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Some of the Christopher Guest movies, when I'm not really like myself, when I have my hair dyed blonde or had a faux-hawk haircut. Those I like to watch because it takes you away from your real self.
Fred Willard
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The higher the hair, the closer to heaven.
Marie Avgeropoulos
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It is tricky because I do wear a lot of vintage on the red carpet, and usually when I'm getting ready, I'll say, 'We need to make sure that I don't look like I'm in a Scorsese film today.' Sometimes I do something a little bit more modern with my hair. You have to mix it up.
Christina Hendricks
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Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may findThee sitting careless on a granary floor,Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hookSpares the next swath and all its twined flowers.
John Keats