Top 1200 Blue Hair Quotes & Sayings - Page 4

When I talk about rock n' roll, to me, that goes back to the beginning of the 1950s. Blue suede shoes and sideburns, man. Pink and black coloured clothes. Turn your collar up, comb your hair in ducktails. And the music was cool. It was a whole culture then - a different world.

Paco Fuentes, " Mrs. Peterson says, pointing to the table behind Mary. The handsome young man with pale blue eyes like his mother's and smoky black hair like his father's takes his assigned seat.

Cutting my hair, I feel like I'm going to another level. Cutting my hair was a step for me. Anybody that has had hair for so long, when you're used to something, it's like reforming your life.

I WANT to be a saint. I want to save souls by the millions. I want to do good far and wide. I want to fight evil! I want my life-sized statue in every church. I'm talking six feet tall, blond hair, blue eyes-.Wait a second.Do you know who I am?

I can't live without mousse. When my hair is damp I put it at the roots. When I blow dry my hair it makes it so much bouncier. It gives you shampoo commercial hair and makes your blowout so much better.

As a black woman trying different products and figuring out what works best for me, the one thing that I realized is that hair brands lump us together as having 'black hair,' but all black hair is not alike.

My hair is different than a lot of people's. I like my hair. I like the fade. I like the little design I have. I'm cool with it. Obviously my hair is thin on top, so it looks like a bald spot, but I really could care less.

Oh, the ongoing love affair between hair and mouths. Hair always goes for the mouth. The mouth opens, and hair says, "I'm going in! I'm going in!" like a manic cave diver.

At the age of seven, I wanted a doll with blonde hair and blue eyes like other girls in my class. But my father gave me a black doll and said 'black is beautiful.' Telling this to a seven-year-old was quite peculiar, but these were the values we inherited from him.

I remember going through that process of growing my hair out, straightening it, cutting off the relaxed hair. I finally got to a point where I went to the Dominicans because they can straighten it real good. By the end of the day, the part of my hair that had just been pressed straight was already starting to coil back up.

Dead bodies do get a grayish blue/purple hue because blood pools in the capillaries and the body starts to decompose. It's not smurf blue, but it's not a pleasant shade.

I had a hair colorist that I knew, so I went to her and had my hair colored, and fortunately, this helped me achieve a very successful modeling career. But, it's very difficult to maintain red hair.

When I was in Mecca I noticed that their, they had no color problem. That they had people there whose eyes were blue and people there whose eyes were black, people whose skin was white, people whose skin was black, people whose hair was blond, people whose hair was black, from the whitest white person to the blackest black person.

What a director is looking for is someone who will follow you and no matter what. And if you ask for blue, he's gonna try blue. And if you say, give me a piece of red with it, and they try. And you don't mind so much if it's difficult to get the blue and the red together. As long as they try. And as long as they give everything they can to give you what you want. That's what I'm looking for.

When you're the only woman of color, and you walk into a room of people who don't look like you, most of them with blond hair and blue eyes, it's disheartening. The weirdest part is that I walk in and assume they think I'm auditioning to play a different role than them, but I'm going out for their same role.

A girl asked me if she could comb my hair. Nobody can comb my hair, I can’t even comb my hair.

Everyone always asks, 'Did you ever rebel? Did you dye your hair blue? Did you wear black nail polish?' I mean, of course, there have been episodes when you wear weird-colored lipstick... But generally, I think I was pretty much the way I am now.

There's not one woman in America who does not care about her hair, but we give it way too much value. We deprive ourselves of things, we use it to destroy each other, we'll look at a child and judge a mother and her sense of motherhood by the way the child's hair looks. I am not going to traumatize my child about her hair. I want her to love her hair.

So, probably … when I started painting the pelvis bones I was most interested in the holes in the bones — what I saw through them- particularly the blue from holding them up in the sun against the sky as one is apt to do when one seems to have more sky than earth in one’s world … they were most beautiful against the Blue — that Blue that will always be there as it is now after all man’s destruction is finished.

I used to get my hair dyed at a place called Big Hair. It cost $15. They just used straight bleach, so my hair was the color of white lined paper, and my eyebrows looked like they were done with a thick black marker.

I don’t want long hair, I don’t want short hair, I don’t want hair at all, and I don’t want to be a girl or a boy. I want to be a yellow and orange leaf some little kid picks up and pastes in his scrapbook.

The smooth stones you pick up and examine under the moon's light have been made blue from the sea. Next morning when you pull them from your trouser pocket, they are still blue.

So you say, with your shiny hair and pouty lips - and those breasts - just wait till you start dropping whelps, they'll be at your ankles one day, big as they are - not the whelps, the breasts. The whelps will be in your hair - no, not the shiny hair on your head, well, yes, that hair, but only as a manner of speech.

I loathe hair salons. People have always told me I am in the wrong business because I can't stand getting my hair cut or having it messed around with. Hairdressers feel as if they've got to be your shrinks. I just want them to do my hair so I can get out of there.

My hair is always the same. It's wavy, so I brush it with a round brush. I'm a brush fanatic. I hoard brushes. I love getting my hair brushed. I will ask my friends to brush my hair for me.

His aster-blue eyes shown out from a face blackened by bruises and soot, his fair hair glittering in the firelight. Dressed all in black, silhouetted against flame, he looked rather like a demon, raised from the dead, trading for souls on the other side.

For so many years, I was trying to beat my hair into submission, trying to get it to look like someone else's hair, and I didn't know how. I remember going through a phase where I even put beer in my hair, because I was told that would make it smooth and curly.

Sun-bleached bones were most wonderful against the blue - that blue that will always be there as it is now after all man's destruction is finished.

I wanted to represent minorities in the respect of people who had been bullied in school or people who were gay or lesbian or trans or people who aren't blonde haired and blue-eyed. I have short hair, and I am covered in tattoos. I like showing people that it's within their rights to be different.

When I was 13, I began relaxing my hair, and that meant when I turned 18 it began to crack and fall off, and when I began anchoring, I had short, stubbly pieces of hair. And trying to report in San Francisco with fog meant my hair swelled.

I bleed blue, and it's Colts blue now.

I have a big personality, and I think big personality plus blond hair makes me come across as glib. With dark hair, people look at your face more. Before, it was all about the hair.

People are obsessed with my haircut; everyone wants to do something with my hair before the ceremony. Very senior figures tell me their hairstylist wants to do my hair for free. It's surprising. People from television are interested almost exclusively in aspects of my hair and my hairdresser.

Who would guess," he teased, "that I'd ever see you on a rooftop with straw in your hair?" Kit giggled. "Are you saying I've turned into a crow?" "Not exactly." His eyes were intensely blue with merriment. "I can still see the green feathers if I look hard enough. But they've done their best to make you into a sparrow, haven't they?

At the end of the day, stick up for yourself whether you have spiky hair, long hair, blonde hair, black hair, whatever it is, stick up for yourself and go for your dreams because at the end of the day, you can pretty much accomplish anything if you put your mind to it.

He found himself wanting to write poetry about how her blue eyes were like starlight and her hair like night, because "night" and "starlight" rhymed, but he had a feeling the poem wouldn't turn out that well.

To visit the West Coast, now and always, is to be overwhelmed by its beauty - the blue water and blue skies, the temperate air and the beaches and the looming mountains not so far away.

The hair department is always on my case about washing my hair. I am incredibly lazy, and a brat about washing my hair.

I use my Bionic flat iron and hair dryer, all shampoo and conditioners are sulfate free, and keep the blow-drys to a minimum. If I can go two to three or even four days without washing my hair, I'll just go for it. I know, sounds gross, but otherwise, I'd be frying my hair.

There is silver blue, sky blue and thunder blue. Every colour holds within it a soul, which makes me happy or repels me, and which acts as a stimulus. To a person who has no art in him, colours are colours, tones tones...and that is all. All their consequences for the human spirit, which range between heaven to hell, just go unnoticed.

[Kane to Rose] I'll never forget the way you looked walking toward me. I never thought that I'd have a woman like you in my life. It's all there etched in my brain. And now, the way the light pours over our hair, the way all that silk shines, so black it's nearly blue. The world disappears when I'm holding you.

If I'm gong out to a club I like to have fun with it. I'll use blue or red sparkly eyeliners and glittery eye shadows. Then I'll put on some blue mascara. I focus on the eyes.

She [Pansy] pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard's elbow. She was as tall as Poppy, with shining dark-brown hair and blue eyes. An utterly lovely girl, as all the princesses were, yet Oliver thought Petunia was far more beautiful.

As I accepted the change of the golden hair of my childhood to the reddish-brown hair of my youth without regret, so I also accept my silver hair-and I am ready to accept the time when my hair and the rest of my clay garment returns to the dust from which it came, while my spirit goes on to freer living. It is the season for my hair to be silver, and each season has its lessons to teach. Each season of life is wonderful if you have learned the lessons of the season before. It is only when you go on with lessons unlearned that you wish for a return.

What a lot of people don't realise is that damage to hair starts from washing your hair in a rush and not taking all the product out such as leave-in conditioners. So I always make sure that I cleanse my hair properly and get the shampoo and conditioner completely out.

Sit, Your High Majestic Lord Princes," she said. She yanked a chair from the table and sat herself down. "You're in fine temper," Raffin said. "Your hair is blue," Katsa snapped back.

Not since Cassandra Wilson's Blue Light Til Dawn has a vocalist cast such an entrancing spell as Valerie Joyce does on New York Blue.

I wash my hair maybe once every four or five months. But whenever I touch my hair, I wash my hands. I think since I wash my hands a lot and then touch my hair, maybe I'm washing my hair each time. But also, I sweat a lot, and sweat is like a natural shower built into your body.

When I was in school, I got there on the first day and everyone had long, blonde, straight hair, and I had short, dark, curly hair. I immediately felt I didn't fit in and started growing my hair. But I've learned that I'm only happy when I am truly me and feel comfortable and confident in myself.

Relaxing your hair is like being in prison. You're caged in. Your hair rules you. You didn't go running with Curt today because you don't want to sweat out this straightness. You're always battling to make your hair do what it wasn't meant to do.

I have really long hair, so I don't cut it all that often. Sometimes, when I'm working, I just have the stylist on set trim it for me. I don't dye my hair. When I was a teenager, I dyed my hair five colors at one time. It was all different shades of red going from more orange to more purple. I thought I looked so cool.

Growing up, I had really big hair. Giant hair. As I got older, the goal was to make it smaller - I wanted to look like everyone else. So I got a weave. I would manipulate my hair and try to make it straight.

Whenever I am in front of the camera, my hair goes through a lot of harsh styling. But I ensure that my off-camera time is all about letting my hair down, taking it easy and, of course, letting my hair breathe!

My best hair care tip would be, choose a range that is right for your hair structure. Working with Pantene has made me realize the importance of this, and it really does make a difference. I have quite thick hair, so I use the Smooth & Sleek range.

Maybe the reality-based fractions of red and blue America are reaching a sort of consensus: Just as Republicans are beginning to get why George Bush makes so many Americans want to rip their hair out, a lot of Democrats have finally, viscerally come to understand Clinton-loathing. Mutual, symmetrical disillusionment; it's a start.

Imagine a guy. He’s a little taller than you, with perfect skin, skin that just screams “touch me!” and dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes and he looks so sweet and he is sweet. And then have him blush a little.

As a poodle may have his hair cut long or his hair cut short, as he may be trimmed with pink ribbons or with blue ribbons, yet he remains the same old poodle, so capitalism may be trimmed with factory laws, tenement laws, divorce laws and gambling laws, but it remains the same old capitalism. These "humanitarian parts" are only trimming the poodle. Socialism, one and inseparable with its "antirent and anticapital parts," means to get rid of the poodle.

When I was modeling in Japan, I could blend in a little because of my hair, but my roommates with blonde hair got harassed. People would touch their hair and grope them in the subway. Actually, a lot of groping happens in the subway in Japan, but that's probably true of subways everywhere.

I love my hair. I think everyone should love their hair. I think there's something intimate and beautiful about someone playing in your hair.

I always had short hair, and I hated my short hair. I was always mistaken for a boy, but my mom wouldn't let me change my hair because she was always chasing me around with a hairbrush, and it was always tangled, so she just would cut it off, and she's right: short hair did suit me.