A Quote by Desi Arnaz

The straw hat is the typical hat Cubans use. It's cool and keeps the sun away from your face. — © Desi Arnaz
The straw hat is the typical hat Cubans use. It's cool and keeps the sun away from your face.
Tipping your hat to a lady is good form. If you're at a dinner table, you'd most certainly take your hat off - cowboy hat, baseball hat, or otherwise.
I hate hats! Hats just give you really bad hair! I had a hat sometimes. Frankly, you get burnt so much anyway, it's beside the point. And when you're walking into the western sun, no hat in the world is going to save your face and neck from being sizzled.
Australian schools have cool uniforms. I wish I had to wear a woven straw hat for maths.
I never had a hat, never wore one, but recently was given a brown suede duck-hunting hat. The moment I put it on I realized I was starved for a hat. I kept it warm by putting it on my head. I made plans to wear it especially when I was going to do any thinking. Somewhere in Virginia, I lost my hat.
I guess I look strange a bit. Strange but confident. I'm not like a model or anything. I always compare this to wearing a hat. You can wear the strangest hat, but if you think it's cool, then you'll look cool.
It was the hat. He looked sweet in the hat. How could a man in a fuzzy blue hat have used human bones to pave his roads?
I use as high SPF as I can get, and I live under a hat like a mushroom all the time. Someone said they're worried about their kids getting older and doing drugs, and I got this look of horror on my face and thought, 'What if my girls don't wear hats?' But at 13 months old, they could say 'hat.
I use as high SPF as I can get, and I live under a hat like a mushroom all the time. Someone said they're worried about their kids getting older and doing drugs, and I got this look of horror on my face and thought, 'What if my girls don't wear hats?' But at 13 months old, they could say 'hat.'
You can literally walk into my apartment and sit on a hat; you can step on a hat; you can probably open up the refrigerator and find a hat tucked under some rotten food. I have a lot of hats.
Hat head is a sad affliction wherein the chosen hat and the selected hairstyle are grossly incompatible. The unfortunate combination results in a condition that can be hidden only with the application of another hat.
Living in Florida, I keep the sun out of my face as much as possible with a nice sun hat, sunglasses, and a sundress I can wear for all occasions.
Sam came around the side of the car and stopped dead when he saw me. “Oh my God, what is THAT?” I used my thumb and middle finger to flick the multicolored pom-pom on top of my head. “In my language, we call it a HAT. It keeps my ears warm.” “Oh my God,” Sam said again, and closed the distance between us. He cupped my face in his hands and studied me. “It’s horribly cute.” He kissed me, looked at the hat, and then he kissed me again. I vowed never to lose the pom-pom hat.
U.S. foreign policy is Manichaean. It's like a Hollywood movie. You have to know who has the white hat and who has the black hat and then go against the black hat.
None of us are good or evil, and that frustrates us because we want to see others as wearing a white hat or black hat. My hat is grey.
The hat is not for the street: it will never be democratized. But there are certain houses that one cannot enter without a hat. And one must always wear a hat when lunching with people whom one does not know well. One appears to one's best advantage.
Finally I went and found my hat and skewered it on my head with a four-inch hat pin. I wore the hat because I knew my mother never visited without one. The pin I thought would be a comfort in case of emergency.
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