Hair wax is my go-to. When it comes to shampoo, I use whatever is at the rink.

I’ve got hair in my mouth, because I replaced my teeth with my cat. This makes it more fun to pet my gums.

I didn’t chug the hairspray because I’m an alcoholic. I drank it to style my throat hairs.

By age seven, I used to comb my hair for performances, just pull my hair up into a bun. Granted, it wasn’t a very intricate hairstyle. Still, to be that responsible and disciplined at age...

Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.

I’ve seen knives pierce the chest,Children dying in the roadCrawling things hooked and baited,Rapists bound and then castrated,Villains singed in public square.Yet none these sights did make me cringeLike when my Love cut all her...

My father-in-law has ear hair like a wolverine. It fans out from the auricles, wafting from the ridge lines like cilia, like gray feathered plumage.

I think that it should just be a rule of thumb that if your job asks you to cut your hair… that means that it’s time to quit that job.

I never really liked my short hair; it never occurred to me that people would want it.

I’ll see a cat and instinctively start petting the hair on my back.

My hair is too fine to bleach. I get so much breakage, it’s not worth it to dye it.

Perhaps [he had] persevered for too long, in the face of too many obstacles, his hair proof of his tenacity – the stark black streaked with white or, in certain light, stark white shot through...

I feel… sexier, I think, with short hair. I feel like an alien!

I look back at my elementary or high school pictures and I always had gel in my hair and a gold chain that I would wear outside my shirt. That’s how I was born and...

Nowadays, they have more trouble packing hair dryers than baseball equipment.

I get more distracted by hair or a really bad wig than I do costumes any day of the week.

Love should be unconditional, while hair should be conditioned. Air should also be conditioned, and worn in place of hairnets.

Just because I’ve got blonde hair and haven’t been to Bosnia doesn’t mean I’m a bimbo. I am still a serious journalist.

It was common knowledge that big, bad city boys spent the bulk of their time sleeping around, coiffing their hair and posting pictures of food on the internet.

I like to sing in the car with the windows rolled down and hair blowing all over my face.

You can’t get dressed without good hair.

It was a smooth silvery voice that matched her hair. It had a tiny tinkle in it, like bells in a doll’s house. I thought that was silly as soon as I thought of it.

I like a grizzly look as long as it’s maintained. Facial hair requires maintenance; you can’t just grow it out and be done with it.

It’s not the hair on your head that matters. It’s the kind of hair you have inside.

I was going to buy a book on hair loss, but the pages kept falling out.

Guys who know how to use a blowdryer… Their hair is too long!

I used to live in a gap jumper, tracksuit bottoms and a fake flower in my hair. Shocking.

A girl without braidsis like a city without bridges.

Then a soft air, a simple melody, rose to the ears of the suddenly hushed court; and for me, it was May Day again, and I was no longer cold, for the sun burned bright...

How do you know if someone loves herself? No hairstyle, religion, or ethnicity has ownership of self-love or a greater propensity toward self-hatred. The best way to tell if a woman loves herself is by...

It took me two years to get an appointment with Mr. Suga who cut my hair for the Olympics. Who knew? I had no idea that it would be popular.

I have hair on my chest. And it’s purring.

I found a hair in my Campbell’s soup, and I’d love to talk to them about advancement opportunities for bald people. My love is as bald as an eagle, only not symbolic of the largest...