A Quote by Denise Levertov
And our dreams,
with what frivolity we have pared them
like toenails, clipped them like ends of
split hair.
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Some like them hot,some like them cold. Some like them when they're not to darn old Some like them fat,some like them lean. Some like them only at sweet sixteen. Some like them dark,some like them light. Some like them in the park,late at night. Some like them fickle,some like them true, But the time I like them is when they're like you
I stalk certain words... I catch them in mid-flight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives... I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them... I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, like pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves... Everything exists in the word.
My feet look like hooves-like, fake-leather bottoms and funky toenails - and I scrub them with a big stiff-bristled nylon brush you'd use for scrubbing the side of your house.
We could fight the fuss till we get like friends,
Or somebody bite the dust and we split like ends.
Even in our wildest moments, girl, I'm on it cause you're worth it.
Practice makes perfect, so we fightin' for a purpose.
I use argan oil when I have dry ends. A good hair brush, like a Mason Pearson, is great because it doesn't damage the hair. I like Kerastase shampoo and conditioner best.
If you expect nothing, you can never be disappointed. Apart from a few starry-eyed poets or monks living on a mountaintop somewhere, however, we all have expectations. We not only have them, we need them. They fuel our dreams, our hopes, and our lives like some super-caffeinated energy drink.
We saw the strong trees struggle and their plumes do down, The poplar bend and whip back till it split to fall, The elm tear up at the root and topple like a crown, The pine crack at the base - we had to watch them all. The ash, the lovely cedar. We had to watch them fall. They went so softly under the loud flails of air, Before that fury they went down like feathers, With all the hundred springs that flowered in their hair, and all the years, endured in all the weathers - To fall as if they were nothing, as if they were feathers.
It's good to be young and full of dreams. Dreams of one day doing something 'insanely great.' Dreams of love, beauty, achievement, and contribution. But understand they have a life of their own, and they're not very good at following instructions. Love them, revere them, nurture them, respect them, but don't ever become a slave to them. Otherwise you'll kill them off prematurely, before they get the chance to come true.
I myself don't like to speak to the actors at all. I like to hire great people and let them do their thing. I don't like to speak to them. I don't like to have lunch with them. I don't like to socialize with them. I don't like to hear their ideas.
Hey, our Founding Fathers wore long hair and powdered wigs - I don't see anybody trying to look like them today, either... But we do look to them as role models.
When I come to schools like Norton Primary Academy and meet children who have their lives and careers before them, I hope in some small way that I can inspire them to do better by sharing my own story with them and telling them never to give up on their dreams.
Historically, the rabbis are split on the question of dreams. None of them denied their power.
People are flawed. I like peaking into their flaws. The way to humanize them is not to play them in any general way, but to make them very specific. If you make them specific, they have hopes and dreams and loves and vulnerabilities and quirks and you get to know them and you get to appreciate them.
For keeping hair long and healthy, I like to use silk pillowcases; they conduct less heat and keep your ends less frayed. Also, I sleep with my hair in a very loose top bun to keep my ends away from my body heat. This also keeps your hair from getting tangled at the nape of your neck.
I feel like our fans identify with us because they're like, 'I'm her,' or 'I don't look like any of them, but I'm different like them.'
A woman with cut hair is a filthy spectacle, and much like a monsterit being natural and comely to women to nourish their hair, which even God and nature have given them for a covering, a token of subjection, and a natural badge to distinguish them from men.
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