A Quote by Damian Lewis

In England we burnt redheads at the stake, because we thought they were witches. There are still young redheads in Britain getting ripped for having red hair. 'Oy, Ginger!' — © Damian Lewis
In England we burnt redheads at the stake, because we thought they were witches. There are still young redheads in Britain getting ripped for having red hair. 'Oy, Ginger!'
Redheads were particularly persecuted during the European witch trials of the fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The colour was associated with the devil, and the pale skin which most redheads have was thought unnatural and deathly.
Jeremy used to hate it when she was younger because someone in her class told her redheads were freaks of nature.But our mother told her that redheads were genetically more courageous than other people and that she should always where her hair long,like a wariors badge of honor.
Which always raises the interesting question of whether redheads pursue other redheads in a narcissistic way, or simply, because they have no other choice, as nonredheads aren't interested.
Darcy, the heroine of 'Something Blue,' is quite shallow and opinionated. At one point, she commented that she dislikes 'gingers,' i.e., men with red hair. I received several emails from fiery redheads who said they were offended by 'my' comments. I had to remind them that it is fiction.
I've been compared to a lot of redheads. Here's the thing though: you can look nothing like somebody, but if you both have red hair, all of a sudden people think you look exactly the same.
Indeed, throughout much of history and in many cultures, redheads have been viewed with suspicion and fear - and even killed - because of their hair.
My mum taught me that redheads shouldn't wear pink, red or orange, but if you choose the right shade, such as a bright orange or a cherry red, it can look fabulous.
In British culture, redheads get teased at school. But I've grown up enough to realize I love my hair.
When I think back about my immediate reaction to that redheads girl, it seems to spring from an appreciation of natural beauty. I mean the heart pleasure you get from looking at speckled leaves or the palimpsested bark of plane trees in Provence. There was something richly appealing to her color combination, the ginger snaps floating in the milk-white skin, the golden highlights in the strawberry hair. it was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors.
People were making fun of redheads before I came along.
People always tell me that redheads go silver. Long, silver-grey hair would be my ideal way of ageing.
Up until I think eighth grade - when I found out in front of a roomful of people - I believed that England and Great Britain were two entirely different places. Like I didn't know that England was a part of Great Britain. I thought they were completely separate in every way.
Types really don't matter. I have been accused of preferring blondes. But I have known some mighty attractive redheads, brunettes, and yes, women with grey hair. Age, height, weight haven't anything to do with glamour.
Women have been burnt as witches simply because they were beautiful.
People who are always praising the past And especially the time of faith as best Ought to go and live in the Middle Ages And be burnt at the stake as witches and sages.
It's brilliant to me, I absolutely love having red hair. I love being ginger and I love my specific colouring.
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