Top Wild Hair Quotes

Browse top 60 famous quotes and sayings about Wild Hair by most favorite authors.

Favorite Wild Hair Quotes

1. "Our time together feels like a storm, like wild wind and rain, like something too big to handle but too powerful to escape. It blows around me and tangles my hair, leaves water on my face, makes me know that I am alive, alive, alive. There are moments of calm and pause as there are in every storm, and moments when our words fork lightening, at least for each other."
Author: Ally Condie
2. "Justus tried to make an objective assessment of Miguel. What was the big deal with him, anyway? So he was easy on the eyes. Actually that was an understatement; he was for female eyes, a virtual feast. He was a perfect physical specimen, and very sensual. He seemed to positively ooze sex and eroticism with his every move, look, and touch. Justus turned her head toward him to steal a glance at his profile, but he caught her looking at him.His eyes were so arresting, they were a dark, fierce green, like beautiful shining emeralds. She also noticed flecks of gold laced through them, reminiscent of cat's eyes. Not any ordinary house cat, these were the eyes of a wild predator.He was a panther; with his black hair and green eyes and the way he moved, so gracefully, yet with definite strength and agility. She sighed to herself, so much for her objectivity."
Author: Amanda Bretz
3. "In the dewy wood tinselled with bewildering moonlight, the bumbling, tumbling babies of the fairy creche trip over the hem of her dress, which is no more nor less than the margin of the wood itself; they stumble in the tangled grass as they play with the coneys, the quick brown fox-cubs, the russet fieldmice and the wee scraps of grey voles, blind velvet Mole and striped Brock with his questing snout - all the denizens of the woodland are her embroiderings, and the birds flutter round her head, settle on her shoulders and make their nests in her great abundance of disordered hair, in which are plaited poppies and ears of wheat."
Author: Angela Carter
4. "I probably won't play a song the same way tomorrow as I play it today. Only a pitchman says the same thing the same way twice, without varying a word. If music is a language, why don't people use it with the same subtlety, nuance, and facility as they do the spoken language? Probably because they don't verbalize with the same vocabulary and tone they once did. It has been said that a people's character is reflected in their music. Our culture is a perfect example. If people here walk around using one-syllable words with no color, no variety, no shading, how can we expect our musical language to be any different? It's like the emperor's new clothes – sure they can sit and make wild noises on their synthesizers and call it music – who questions? But ask them to pull up a chair and play ‘Gal in Calico' or Temptation,' or even a straight dramatic version of ‘The Star-Spangled Banner' and they can't do it. They're too pretentious. They can't just play songs."
Author: Anton Szandor LaVey
5. "I get a wild hair up my nose and I want to go."
Author: Broderick Crawford
6. "But behind each player sttod a line of ghosts unable to win. Eve. Ashputtel. Marilyn Monroe. rapunzel slashing wildly at her hair. Bessie Smith unloved and down and out. Bluebeard's wives, Henry VIII's, Snow White cursing the day she left the seven dwarves, Diana, Princess of Wales. The Sheepish Beast came in with a tray of schnapps at the end of the game and we stood for the toast -"fay wray"- then tossed our fiery drinks to the back of our crimson throats. Bad girls. Serious ladies. Mourning our dead."
Author: Carol Ann Duffy
7. "Will." Her hands pulled at his shirt, and it came away, the buttons tearing, his head shaking free of the fabric, all wild dark hair, Heathcliff on the moors. His hands were less sure on her dress, but it came away as well, off over her head, and was cast aside, leaving Tessa in her chemise and corset. She went motionless, shocked at being so undressed in front of anyone but Sophie, and Will took a wild look at her corset that was only part desire."How—," he said. "Does it come off?"Tessa couldn't help herself; despite everything, she giggled. "It laces," she whispered. "In the back."
Author: Cassandra Clare
8. "Groaning, he gripped his fists in the wild stuff. "Contessa.God, Contessa."She straightened, changing the angle, changing the pleasure. She shook her hair back and undulated. She was a contessa.A princess.No,a queen."
Author: Christie Ridgway
9. "Kyle, I was so afraid." Cole lifted his head from the comfort of her bosom to see her face again.She smoothed back his wild, knotted hair. "It's you. It's you. It's you."A crowd in the doorway interrupted their loving revelation. Nurse Susan stormed into the room.Cole ignored them all and kissed Kyle's sleepy lips. "I love you, Kyle. Thank you for being alive. They didn't hurt you, did they?"Kyle sighed. "They hurt me so much when they took you, Cole. That's the worst pain on earth. The worst." Kyle kissed his forehead and ran her hands over his back. "I'm your shadow. I love you too."
Author: Debra Anastasia
10. "His leaf-gold tresses on end, his eyes in baskets from the long night without sleep, Phelim O'LiamRoe smacked his two fists together and cursed. The Queen Dowager, hardly aware of him, had turned her erect body to the window, followed by Margaret Erskine's wide eyes. But Michel Hérisson, who had arrived so unexpectedly on the Irishman's heels, ran his hacked and gouty hands through the wild white hair and said through his teeth, ‘Liam aboo, son, Liam aboo! My Gaelic's all out in holes, the way my arse is ridden out through my breeches; but if you are saying what I hope you are saying, Liam aboo, my son, Liam aboo!"
Author: Dorothy Dunnett
11. "Both the five-year-olds looked at me with bewilderment and a bit of fearful uncertainty. I had a sudden horrifying image of the woman I might become if I'm not careful: Crazy Aunt Liz. The divorcee in the muumuu with the dyed orange hair who doesn't eat dairy but smokes menthols, who's always just coming back from her astrology cruise or breaking up with her aroma-therapist boyfriend, who reads the Tarot cards of kindergarteners and says things like, "Bring Aunty Liz another wine cooler, baby, and I'll let you wear my mood ring..."
Author: Elizabeth Gilbert
12. "... keeping her wild-honey-and-chamomile-soaked hair from falling into her oatmeal-and-yogurt face mask"
Author: Emma McLaughlin
13. "A Corymbus for AutumnHow are the veins of thee, Autumn, laden?Umbered juices,And pulpèd oozesPappy out of the cherry-bruises,Froth the veins of thee, wild, wild maiden.With hair that mustersIn globèd clusters,In tumbling clusters, like swarthy grapes,Round thy brow and thine ears o'ershaden;With the burning darkness of eyes like pansies,Like velvet pansiesWhere through escapesThe splendid might of thy conflagrate fancies;With robe gold-tawny not hiding the shapesOf the feet whereunto it falleth down,Thy naked feet unsandalled;With robe gold-tawny that does not veilFeet where the redIs meshed in the brown,Like a rubied sun in a Venice-sail."
Author: Francis Thompson
14. "He stared and talked at the girl's red hair and amused face for what seemed to be a few minutes; and then, feeling that the groups in such a place should mix, rose to his feet. To his astonishment, he discovered the whole garden empty. Everyone had gone long ago, and he went himself with a rather hurried apology. He left with a sense of champagne in his head, which he could not afterwards explain. In the wild events which were to follow, this girl had no part at all; he never saw her again until all his tale was over. And yet, in some indescribable way, she kept recurring like a motive in music through all his mad adventures afterwards, and the glory of her strange hair ran like a red thread through those dark and ill-drawn tapestries of the night. For what followed was so improbable that it might well have been a dream."
Author: G.K. Chesterton
15. "The wildlings seemed to think Ygritte a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the free folk, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire, which was supposed to be lucky."
Author: George R.R. Martin
16. "They call each other `E.' Elvis pickswildflowers near the river and bringsthem to Emily. She explains half-rhymes to him.In heaven Emily wears her hair long, sportsLevis and western blouses with rhinestones.Elvis is lean again, wears baggy trousersand T-shirts, a letterman's jacket from Tupelo High.They take long walks and often hold hands.She prefers they remain just friends. Forever.Emily's poems now contain naugahyde, Cadillacs,Electricity, jets, TV, Little Richard and RichardNixon. The rock-a-billy rhythm makes her smile.Elvis likes himself with style. This afternoonhe will play guitar and sing "I Taste A LiquorNever Brewed" to the tune of "Love Me Tender."Emily will clap and harmonize. Alonein their cabins later, they'll listen to the riverand nap. They will not think of Amherstor Las Vegas. They know why God made themroommates. It's because Americawas their hometown. It's becauseGod is a thing withoutfeathers. It's becauseGod wears blue suede shoes."
Author: Hans Ostrom
17. "My motto is to go wild on the accessories - the belts, the hair clips, the jewelery."
Author: Heidi Klum
18. "Now it befell on summer night,upon a lawn where lingering lightyet lay and faded faint and grey,that Luthien danced while he did play…and this the moon now looked upon,uprisen slow, and round, and white,above the branches of the night.Then clearly thrilled her voice and rang;with sudden ecstasy she sanga song of nightingales she learnedand with her elvish magic turnedto such bewildering delightthe moon hung moveless in the night.And this it was that Beren heard,and this he saw, without a word,enchanted dumb, yet filled with fireof such wonder and desirethat all his mortal mind was dim;her magic bound and fettered him,and faint he leaned against a tree.Forwandered, wayworn, gaunt was he,his body sick and heart grown cold,grey in his hair, his youth turned old;for those that tread that lonely waya price of woe and anguish pay.And now his heart was healed and slainwith a new life and with new pain."
Author: J.R.R. Tolkien
19. ". . . for she was the only girl they loved, as she is the queenly pearl you prize, because of the way the night that first we met she is bound to be, methinks, and not in vain, the darling of my heart, sleeping in her april cot, within her singachamer, with her greengageflavoured candywhistle duetted to the crazyquilt, Isobel, she is so pretty, truth to tell, wildwood's eyes and primarose hair, quietly, all the woods so wild, in mauves of moss and daphnedews, how all so still she lay, neath of the whitethorn, child of tree, like some losthappy leaf, like blowing flower stilled, as fain would she anon, for soon again 'twill be, win me, woo me, wed me, ah weary me!"
Author: James Joyce
20. "I was so scared it was all going to be gone by the time I got there. Ninth grade, tenth grade - can't this thing go any faster?In the magazine, there were funny people with funny names like John Sex, who had wild white hair and a snake!-and didn't that just open up a kaleidoscope of new possibilities?And how long the years are-endless! And the minutae of your daily life! So tedious, when there are BIG THINGS happening a thousand miles away. And when you go to bed at night, it's hard to believe those people, those fabulous, daunting people, are out there right now!So we wait, and we endure, and someday we will be there, and we will make it."
Author: James St. James
21. "She ripped the wild bun down from the crown of her head, and then brushed her long hair with her fingers. I couldn't stop staring while she rewrapped it and tied it back again. I imagined that this was what she looked like in the morning, and then had to think about the first ten minutes of Saving Private Ryan to keep my dick from getting hard."
Author: Jamie McGuire
22. "Final DispositionOthers divided closets full of mother's things.From the earth, I took her poppies.I wanted those fandango foldsof red and black chiffon she doted on,loving the wild and Moorish music of them,coating her tongue with the thin skinof their crimson petals.Snapping her fingers, flamenco dancer,she'd mock the clack of castanetsin answer to their gypsy cadence.She would crouch toward the flounce of flowers,twirl, stamp her foot, then kick it outas if to lift the ruffles, scarletalong the hemline of her yard.And so, I dug up, soil and all,the thistle-toothed and gray-green clumpsof leaves, the testicle seedpods and hairy stemsboth out of season, to transplant them in my less-exotic garden. There, they bloomher blood's abandon, year after year,roots holding, their poppy heads noddinga carefree, opium-ecstatic, possibly forever sleep."
Author: Jane Glazer
23. "Then his gaze shifted to the wild bush sprouting from her head. "Wow. Did I do that to your hair?" He looked oddly pleased at the thought.Rylann made a mental note to throw a flat iron in her purse the next time she had sex in the shower with a billionaire ex-con. Not that there wasgoing to be a next time. "Not all of us are lucky enough to have freakishly perfect, shampoo-commercial hair. This is what happens when I get wet."His expression turned wicked. "I know exactly what happens when you get wet, counselor."Yep, she'd walked right into that one."
Author: Julie James
24. "Lora…" Her name was a tormented whisper as he kissed her harder, fiercer than before, as if he was starving for the taste of her mouth. She twisted in his arms, not trying to get away but to work her arms free… She managed to push them up through his crushing hold and lock them around his neck. He groaned deep in his throat, and she groaned too in protest as his mouth suddenly left hers. He was looking down at her, his breathing heavy, a wild glitter in his eyes. Lora lifted one hand from the corded nape of his neck and lightly stroked the rough, wet edges of his hair."
Author: Karen Robards
25. "That's about when it happens. Coming down the escalator from one Nord floor to the next we see Little Teena has commandeered the grand piano. He's busy busting out Bach to all the bewildered shoppers. Little Teena just doesn't look for Nordstromy sitting there, with his red hair slick up in a pompadour, his girth squeezing out between his black leather jacket and the lip of his jeans, gumball machine rings decorating every single one of his fingers. But it's hen he goes from Bach to Great Balls of Fire that we attract the attention of the Nordfuck's militia."
Author: Lidia Yuknavitch
26. "Oh antic Godreturn to memy mother in her thirties leaned across the front porch the huge pillow of her breasts pressing against the railsummoning me in for bed.I am almost the dead woman's age times two.I can barely recall her songthe scent of her handsthough her wild hair scratches my dreams at night. return to me, oh Lord of then and now, my mother's calling,her young voice humming my name."
Author: Lucille Clifton
27. "I would have done anything for him. But these days, I don't want to do anything. I don't want to get drunk or go to a wild party or make out with random boys-not that I've ever wanted to. I don't want to watch chick flicks or eat ice cream or get a haircut or buy out half of the mall. I don't want cold, cruel revenge. I don't want to see him suffer when karma catches up with him and kick his ass. I don't even want to talk to him right now, simply because it would be awkward and pathetic and I wouldn't know what to say to him. Yes, there is self-control, preventing me from being stupid and acting like a desperate doofus in the manner most heartbroken people do. But there is also a weary numbness threatening to consume every inch of me: Isn't there a way for me to skip straight to the part where I'm fine again?"
Author: Marla Miniano
28. "Note savages, eh? They live in mountain caves and dress like wild men. They walk about in woolen petticoats, which they are not in the least modest about casting aside when they need their sword arms free. Dash me, can you even begin to imagine the sight of a horde of naked, hairy-legged creatures charging at you across a battlefield like bloody fiends out of hell—screaming and flailing those great bloody swords and axes of theirs like scythes? Not savages?"
Author: Marsha Canham
29. "The Other Side of a Mirror I sat before my glass one day,And conjured up a vision bare,Unlike the aspects glad and gay,That erst were found reflected there -The vision of a woman, wildWith more than womanly despair.Her hair stood back on either sideA face bereft of loveliness.It had no envy now to hideWhat once no man on earth could guess.It formed the thorny aureoleOf hard, unsanctified distress.Her lips were open - not a soundCame though the parted lines of red,Whate'er it was, the hideous woundIn silence and secret bled.No sigh relieved her speechless woe,She had no voice to speak her dread.And in her lurid eyes there shoneThe dying flame of life's desire,Made mad because its hope was gone,And kindled at the leaping fireOf jealousy and fierce revenge,And strength that could not change nor tire.Shade of a shadow in the glass,O set the crystal surface free!Pass - as the fairer visions pass -Nor ever more return, to beThe ghost of a distracted hour,That heard me whisper: - 'I am she!"
Author: Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
30. "Sometimes I felt the bloated Toad, hideous and pampered with the poisonous vapours of the dungeon, dragging his loathsome length along my bosom: Sometimes the quick cold Lizard rouzed me leaving his slimy track upon my face, and entangling itself in the tresses of my wild and matted hair: Often have I at waking found my fingers ringed with the long worms which bred in the corrupted flesh of my Infant."
Author: Matthew Gregory Lewis
31. "As his lord stared at the door another figure appeared, a girl of about fifteen with long, rather wild black hair. She was gauche in movement and in a sense, ugly of face, but with how small a twist might she not suddenly have become beautiful. Her sullen mouth was full and rich – her eyes smouldered."
Author: Mervyn Peake
32. "Hubert's wife, Mindy, was a tiny powerhouse of a woman with a halo of wild blond hair and eye makeup so complex it took me a while to locate her pupils. She was clearly the brains of the operation, such as she was."
Author: Molly Harper
33. "Mercy didn't get embarrassed easily, but her cheeks flamed now. Because if Riley knew she was in heat—like a freaking wild cat!—then so did the rest of her own pack. "So what, you followed me hoping I'd lower my standards and sleep with a wolf?" She intentionally made "wolf" sound about as appetizing as "reptile." Riley's jaw tightened under a shadow of stubble a shade darker than the deep chestnut of his hair. "You want to claw at me, kitty-cat? Come on." Her hands clenched. She really wasn't this much of a bitch. But goddamn Riley had a way of lighting her fuse."
Author: Nalini Singh
34. "I stood transfixed, the silence ringing in my ears. From the field of wild grasses; cocksfoot, tufted hair, wild oat, tall fescue, reed canary and perennial rye, their subtle shades of green, ochre and pink softly patching and blending in rustling movement, suddenly rose a small flock of starlings that had been feeding quietly unseen among the tall waving stems, the swish of their glossy wings startlingly loud in the stillness of midday. Heat held me captive."
Author: Nell Grey
35. "The wild splash of red that was her hair tumbled over the vivid green of the bedspread. Shadows from the candle shifted over her face, reminding him of the impression he'd first had of her-the Gypsy-open fires,weeping violins. Her eyes were dark, pure gray,and waiting."We MacGregors," he murmured, "have ways of...dealing with Campbells."His mouth lowered but paused a whisper from hers.He saw that her lids had fluttered down yet hadn't closed. She watched him through her lashes while her breath came quickly.Slowly he shifted his head to nibble along her jawline."
Author: Nora Roberts
36. "One morning early, I couldn't sleep, so I walked down to the beach. And I saw you. For a minute- I didn't realize it was you. You were wearing this long scarf thing tied around your waist, lots of wild colors, and it blew around your legs. You had on a red bathing suit under it.""You..." She literally had to catch her breath. "You remember what I was wearing?" "Yes I do. And I remember your hair was longer than it is now, halfway down your back. All those mad curls flying. Bare feet. All that golden skin, wild colors, mad curls. My heart just stopped. I thought: That's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I wanted that woman, in a way I'd never wanted one before." He stopped, turned a little as she simply stared at him. "Then I saw it was you. You walked off, down the beach, the surf foaming up over your bare feet, your ankles, your calves. And I wanted you. I thought I'd lost my my mind."
Author: Nora Roberts
37. "The Fomorians skittered backward, away from me, looking justifiably confused. I mean, really, how many human women actually run to them? And I was a human woman covered in swamp yuck, with wild red hair sticking out in matted hunks and arms flailing like a demented Bride of Frankenstein. I'd run from me."
Author: P.C. Cast
38. "Heads in the Women's WardOn pillow after pillow liesThe wild white hair and staring eyes;Jaws stand open; necks are stretchedWith every tendon sharply sketched;A bearded mouth talks silentlyTo someone no one else can see.Sixty years ago they smiledAt lover, husband, first-born child.Smiles are for youth. For old age comeDeath's terror and delirium."
Author: Philip Larkin
39. "With her wild red hair draped around her pallid visage, she could easily be mistaken for a nymph from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. But then again, those nymphs were rarely hung-over or quite such a freckled, busty little thing."
Author: Renate Linnenkoper
40. "Do I smell like wild places, still?"Sergei laughed softly and ruffled his hair. "I'd have to compare. And monitor that. Refine my assessment over the next years…""Ranch has plenty of spare dung. I'll be sure to roll in it regularly." Teeth scraped his arm, nipped his skin gently."I always knew the Alliance was decadent. I intend to see just how decadent."
Author: Rhi Etzweiler
41. "That's my big problem. That's it! Before the Arrival,guys like Evan Walker never looked twice at me, much less shot wild game for me and washed my hair. They never grabbed me by the back of the neck like the airbrushed model on his mother's paperback,abs a-clenching, pecs a-popping. My eyes have never been looked into, or my chin raised to bring my lips within an inch of theirs. I was the girl in the background, the just-friend,or -worse- the friend of a just-friend, the you-sit-next-to-her-in-geometry-but-can't-remember-her-name girl."
Author: Rick Yancey
42. "I do not deny that he was eccentric; the mania he had for keeping that cat and teasing her until she flew at his face like a demon, was certainly eccentric. I never could understand why he kept the creature, nor what pleasure he found in shutting himself up in his room with this surly, vicious beast. I remember once, glancing up from the manuscript I was studying by the light of some tallow dips, and seeing Mr. Wilde squatting motionless on his high chair, his eyes fairly blazing with excitement, while the cat, which had risen from her place before the stove, came creeping across the floor right at him. Before I could move she flattened her belly to the ground, crouched, trembled, and sprang into his face. Howling and foaming they rolled over and over on the floor, scratching and clawing, until the cat screamed and fled under the cabinet, and Mr. Wilde turned over on his back, his limbs contracting and curling up like the legs of a dying spider. He was eccentric."
Author: Robert W. Chambers
43. "He was back to ogling Halina, who played with a strand of her wildly free hair and gave him a look that clearly said, 'I have chains in my room, wanna see?"
Author: S.C. Stephens
44. "Are you smarter than my chicken?" cried a weathered, wild-haired woman holding a nonplussed bird over her head. At her feet was a wooden board covered with numbers and arcane symbols. "Lay your bets! Test your wits against a trained fowl! One coppin a try! Are you smarter than my chicken? You might be in for a surprise!"
Author: Scott Lynch
45. "This is not a book for the wild-haired crazies your company keeps in a corner. It is a book for you, your boss, and your employees, because the best future available to us is a future where you contriubute your true self and your best work. Are you up for that?"
Author: Seth Godin
46. "Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair..."
Author: Susan Polis Schutz
47. "PolyphiloprogenitiveThe sapient sutlers of the LordDrift across the window-panes.In the beginning was the Word.In the beginning was the Word.Superfetation of to en,And at the mensual turn of timeProduced enervate Origen.A painter of the Umbrian schoolDesigned upon a gesso groundThe nimbus of the Baptized God.The wilderness is cracked and brownedBut through the water pale and thinStill shine the unoffending feetAnd there above the painter setThe Father and the Paraclete.. . . . . .The sable presbyters approachThe avenue of penitence;The young are red and pustularClutching piaculative pence.Under the penitential gatesSustained by staring SeraphimWhere the souls of the devoutBurn invisible and dim.Along the garden-wall the beesWith hairy bellies pass betweenThe staminate and pistilate,Blest office of the epicene.Sweeney shifts from ham to hamStirring the water in his bath.The masters of the subtle schoolsAre controversial, polymath."
Author: T.S. Eliot
48. "The Snow Leopard's Tale is a mystical pilgrimage into that wild country where animal passion and the human heart begin to walk the very same trail. Whether one has been in the business of adventuring, as Thomas McIntyre has, or has enjoyed such adventures from the safety of one's armchair, The Snow Leopard's Tale is a haunting, beautifully written, and thought-provoking tale, as all great parables are."
Author: Ted Kerasote
49. "A picture in a book, a lynching. The bland faces of men who watcha Christ go up in flames, smiling,as if he were a hookedfish, a felled antelope, some wild thing tied to boards and burned.His charred bodygives off light--a haloburns out of him. His face is scorched featureless; the hair matted to the scalp like feathers. One man stands with his hand on his hip,another with his armslung over the shoulder of a friend,as if this moment were large enoughto hold affection."
Author: Toi Derricotte
50. "With stars in her eyes and veils in her hair, with cyclamen and wild violets—what nonsense was he thinking? She was fifty at least: she had eight children. Stepping through fields of flowers and taking to her breast buds that had broken and lambs that had fallen: with the stars in her eyes and the wind in her hair—He took her bag."
Author: Virginia Woolf

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I would not begin to understand until I was a very old woman, and even then they would still be a mystery."
Author: Alice Hoffman

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