Quotes About Hair Brush

“I brush some of his hair out of his eyes and look at him with so much love that I must look like I'm going to burst.”

— Yvonne Prinz

“I glare at him."I can't reach my hair," I snap, wiggling my bound fingers.
Bowen's eyebrows shoot up."A bit snarky this morning, Fotard?"
I sigh, a feeling bone-deep, weary ache in my whole body." Can you blame me, Botard?"
He runs his fingers over his scruffy chin and studies me."No. I'd be pretty snarky if I smelled like you. And I bet you're dying to brush your teeth.”

— Bethany Wiggins

“Over the years our mother has beaten us with belts, shoes, rulers, extension cords, hair brushes, a wooden spoon, a fly swatter, a toilet brush, wire coat hangers, wooden coat hangers and sometimes one of our own toys. When you get whacked by your own paddleball paddle or you have to watch your sister getting spanked with a badminton racquet that she asked Santa Claus (AKA Grandma) to bring, you don't feel much like playing with those things ever again.”

— Bob Thurber

“Every day for a week, sitting in my idling car, saying goodbye without saying anything at all-the touch of his hand, his forehead pressed to mine, the way he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. And still, he hadn't kissed me. Not once. Nothing but that brief brush of his lips. I was beginning to go a little crazy.”

— Emme Rollins

“Do it, Octavian" She ghosted the tips of her fingers along the hem of his shirt. "Touch me."
He growled low in his throat, his forehead dropping another inch toward her shoulder, his hair tickling the side of her face. "Be my angel, Riley, not my siren. Don't tempt me."
Moistening her lips with a sweep of her tongue, Riley glided her fingers over his belt, tracing the strip of leather to the silver buckle in the center. She felt rather than heard his deep inhalation and the tremor that raked his powerful body. Driven by his surrender, she used two fingers to walk over the square carvings etched into his abdomen, biting her lip to stop the grin that pulled when he groaned.
"I want to be both for you, Octavian," she whispered, letting her lips brush the curve of his shoulder.”

— Airicka Phoenix

“I first tasted under Apollo's lips,
love and love sweetness,
I, Evadne;
my hair is made of crisp violets
or hyacinth which the wind combs back
across some rock shelf;
I, Evadne,
was made of the god of light.
His hair was crisp to my mouth,
as the flower of the crocus,
across my cheek,
cool as the silver-cress
on Erotos bank;
between my chin and throat,
his mouth slipped over and over.
Still between my arm and shoulder,
I feel the brush of his hair,
and my hands keep the gold they took,
as they wandered over and over,
that great arm-full of yellow flowers.”

— H.D.

“Why, the club was just the quietest place in the world, a place where a woman could run in to brush her hair and wash her hands, and change her library book, and have a cup of tea.”

— Kathleen Thompson Norris

“Moms are the ones
Who make sure of a lot of things
Like that their kids
Wear nice clothes,
Comb their hair,
Brush their teeth.
And moms teach their kids
How to fold laundry
So their cloths aren't wrinkled,
How to make scrambled eggs
Without turning them brown,
How to make a girl feel like a girl
Without a mom to make her
feel that way?”

— Nancy J. Cavanaugh

“Chad pulled her around the corner of the house and stopped. He framed her face with his hands and leaned in to brush his lips across hers. Megan stiffened for a moment and then allowed herself to melt against him. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones and his hands slid into her hair as he gently made love to her mouth.”

— Tamara Hoffa

“Everything changes, but my love for you never will. I've fought myself on this too long and I can't pretend anymore. I can't feign that I don't want to talk to you, to reach out and brush the hair out of your eyes, or wipe a tear off your cheek. I want to hold you, to tell you how much I love you, to kiss you without repercussions." His voice grew softer, electricity sparking in the air. "I've loved you since I met you, Evangeline, and I will love you for all of eternity.”

— Angela Corbett

“He stretched his arm above my head, and my heart skipped a beat. "I've been thinking about this a lot." "This?" David toyed with the hair on top of my head. "This." "K-kissing?" He pressed his body against mine, and I stopped breathing. "Speaking of which." "I haven't brushed my teeth," I blurted, then realized what an extremely stupid thing that was to say. His eyes crinkled. "Hmmm, did you brush them this morning?" "Yes," I croaked. "Good." He tilted his head. "Bu-”

— Shannon Greenland

“Can I brush your hair? she asked as she led the way, her disposition doing a 180 on a dime. Kids. Can't live with 'em. Can't eat 'em for lunch.”

— Darynda Jones

“I reach up to brush my hair back out of my eyes so I can look around and attempt to determine what the hell is going on. The only three things that I know for certain took place last night are that one
small elves climbed up my body and tied my hair into a mass of tiny knots, two
I must have slept with my mouth open because something crawled into it and died and three
I was sucked through a vortex into some animated world where an anvil was dropped on my head.”

— Katja Millay

“It's not about fear. It's about never feeling clean, spending years scrubbing your soul raw so you can eat without feeling nauseous, can look in the mirror and meet your own eyes when you put on makeup, brush your hair. To learn to be strong, to run your life and not be a victim of it, knowing in your heart that everything you've built is sitting on a foundation that can sink at any time. And you build it anyway, on faith alone that it won't be shattered, when everything in your life tells you that faith is a fucking joke, but you do it anyway. You do it anyway.( ... )”

— Joey W. Hill

“Ash pulled me closer, his eyes gentle as they gazed into mine. "Meghan, I'm going to tell you something someone once told me, when I was afraid of what was to come." He lowered his head, soft strands of his hair brushing my skin. "Nothing is certain," he murmured. "The future is constantly changing, and no one can predict what will happen next. We have the power to change our destiny, because fate is not set in stone, and we are always free to make a choice." His fingers came up to brush my hair back, tucking it behind one ear. "A very powerful seer told me that, once. And she was right. That's why I'm not afraid of the oracle's prophecy, or the future. We are only slaves to fate if we let it control us. There is always a choice.”

— Julie Kagawa

“Brush teeth. Wash hair. Rule undead world with an iron fist.”

— Jeaniene Frost

“This passage, by the way, doesn't just give us the comparative negative of hell, but it translates well into a theology of suffering. With these words of Jesus in mind, I can now know that it is better never to hold my children, it is better never to run my fingers through my wife's hair, it is better not to be able to brush my own teeth, it is better never to be able to drive a car, it is better to be paralyzed and never feel anything from the neck down, and it is better to have stage III anaplastic oligondendroglioma than to find myself outside the kingdom of God.
It is better never to see the sunset or the sunrise, never see the stars in the sky, never to see my daughter in her little dress-up clothes, never to see my son throw a ball - it is better never to have seen those things than to have seen those things and yet end up outside the kingdom of God. How horrible hell must be.”

— Matt Chandler

“I spoke it soft, but close enough to brush against her lips. I spoke it quiet, but near enough so that the sound of it went twining through her hair. I spoke it hard and firm and dark and sweet.”

— Patrick Rothfuss

“It breaks my heart that I don't see my daughters every day, don't get to hug them and brush their hair.”

— Angie Harmon

“I inspect everything more closely, and there is about every surface-the river, the forest, the bark of the trees, the underbrush between them, even my own skin-there is about it all the unmistakable texture of linen stretched and framed. And this is when I feel the camel's hair brush and the oil paint dabbing tenderly, meticulously, at the space below my navel.”

— Caitlín R. Kiernan

“I have so much residue crap in my hair from years and years of not washing it and not having any sense of personal hygiene whatsoever. Even today, I go into these things where I'm supposed to be this sexy guy or whatever, and I'm literally asking, 'If I get plumes of dandruff on me, can you just brush it off?'”

— Robert Pattinson

“I should brush my hair more.”

— Anna Chancellor

“I'd like to do more TV stuff that is live action, but I am so totally happy doing as much voice work as I possibly can. Because it really is the best work. It's so amazing. You just show up. You don't have to look good. You don't even have to brush your hair. You work for a couple of hours, and you go home.”

— Amber Nash

“Her life had taken on the shape of a terrible mistake. She hadn't been given the proper tools to make a real life with, she decided, that was it. She'd been given a can of gravy and a hair-brush and told, "There you go." She'd stood there for years, blinking and befuddled, brushing the can with the brush.”

— Lorrie Moore

“Grooming-wise, it is now a constant battle as I progressively turn into my father. I have to keep on top of ear and nose hair - things you never believe will happen to you. Suddenly I have a shaving brush in my ear and I don't know where it's come from, and the more hair I take the out, the more it surges back.”

— Mark Gatiss

“A Stone Crow's axe is always sharp, and Shagga's axes are sharpest of all. Once I cut off a man's head, but he did not know it until he tried to brush his hair. Then it fell off." "Is that why you never brush yours?" The Stone Crows roared and stamped their feet, Shagga hooting loudest of all.”

— George R.R. Martin

“He's out there. A guy out there was meant to be the love of your life, your best friend, your soulmate. The one you can tell your dreams to. He'll brush your hair out of your eyes. Send you flowers when you least expect it. He'll stare at you during the movies, even though he paid eight dollars to see it. He'll call to say "Goodnight" or just because he is missing you. He'll look in your eyes and tell you you're the most beautiful girl in the world. And for the first time in your life, you'll believe it.”

— Nicholas. Sparks

“I painted the Astor-Victoria sign seven times, and it's 395 feet wide and 58 feet high. I dropped a gallon of purple paint on Seventh Avenue and 47th Street from 15 stories up and didn't kill anybody. I dropped a brush at Columbus Circle. It fell on a guy's camel-hair coat.”

— James Rosenquist

“A boy was staring at me.
I was quite sure I'd never seen him befroe. Long and leanly muscular, he dwarfed and the molded plastic elementary school chair he was sitting in. Mahogany hair, straight and short. He looked my age, maybe a year older, and he sat with his tailbone against the edge of the chair, his posture aggresively poor, one hand half in a pocket of dark jeans.
I looked away, suddenly conscious of my myriad insufficiencies. I was wearing old jeans, which had once been tight but now sagged in weird places, and a yellow T-shirt advertising a band I didn't even like anymore. Also my hair: I had this pageboy haircut, and I hadn't even bothered to, like, brush it. Furthermore, I had ridiculously fat chipmunked cheeks, a side effect of treatment. I looked like a normally proportioned person with a balloon for a head. This was not even to mention the canckle situation. And yet-I cut a glance to him, and his eyes were still on me.”

— John Green

“I'm always having to be told to brush my hair.”

— Lena Dunham

“The daily work you put into rearing your children is a kind of intimacy, tedious and invisible as mothering itself. There is another kind of intimacy in the conversations you may have with your children as they grow older, in which you confess to failings, reveal anxieties, share your bouts of creative struggle, regret, frustration. There is intimacy in your quarrels, your negotiations and running jokes. But above all, there is intimacy in your contact with their bodies, with their shit and piss, sweat and vomit, with their stubbled kneecaps and dimpled knuckles, with the rips in their underpants as you fold them, with their hair against your lips as you kiss the tops of their heads, with the bones of their shoulders and with the horror of their breath in the morning as they pursue the ancient art of forgetting to brush. Lucky me that I should be permitted the luxury of choosing to find the intimacy inherent in this work that is thrust upon so many women. Lucky me.”

— Michael Chabon

“I brush her hair out of her eyes and run my finger along the edge of her face. "I love you, Lake."
"Say it again," she says.
I kiss her forehead and repeat what I said. "I love you, Lake."
"One more time."
"I." I kiss her lips. "And love." I kiss them again. "And you."
"I love you, too.”

— Colleen Hoover

“Is it really possible that the finest sensations in life are simple: the delicate brush of Lou's hair across my chest, for instance? Yes. It is possible. Or was it the feeling I felt in each length as they drifted over me, the love I perceived in their gentle tickle? Yes. That was possible too. With Lou's soft first kiss, wasn't it mainly the miracle of its happening at all which made it so wondrous, so plainly impossible? And was I waiting on the stair for the world's wind to do the same, to display for me that rare union of meaning, gesture, and understanding, which the artist gnaws up knuckles to achieve? O. Oooh ... the decades I've done in and then abandoned without even waiting for the wounds to bleed!”

— William H. Gass

“I brush her hair away from her face, gently, so I don't wake her. She doesn't need my protection. She's strong enough on her own.”

— Veronica Roth

“You sneaked into my cabin?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Percy, you'll be seventeen in two months. You can't seriously be worried about getting in trouble with Coach Hedge."
"Uh, have you seen his baseball bat?"
"Besides, Seaweed Brain, I just thought we could take a walk. We haven't had any time to be together alone. I want to show you something-my favorite place aboard the ship."
Percy's pulse was still in overdrive, but it wasn't from fear of getting in trouble. "Can I, you know, brush my teeth first?"
"You'd better," Annabeth said. "Because I'm not kissing you until you do. And brush your hair while you're at it.”

— Rick Riordan

“He grabs my hands and lifts them up in the air. I grip the railing on the top of the bed.
"Don't move those hands," he whispers into my nape. I nod and lick my lips. I'm on my tiptoes. My breath is catching and coming out spurts of rough air. His hands run down my arms. I shiver and pant. His lips brush the back of my neck. He sweeps my hair to one side, kissing down my shoulder blade. Heat and nerves battle low in my belly as his hands grip my hips, pulling me back to him.
"Don't let go of that railing, Sarah." His words are growled between kisses and licks. I hear the menacing threat in them.”

— Tara Brown

“Having a great golf swing helps under pressure, but golf is a game about scoring. It's like an artist who can get a two-inch brush at Wal-Mart for 20 cents or a fine camel-hair brush from an art store for 20 dollars. The brush doesn't matter - how the finished painting looks is what matters.”

— Jerry Pate

“As if our happiness, our good fortune, might rub off, contestants ask us for a light: they brush up against us in the halls, pull strands of hair off our clothing. Whenever we leave our bed, our room
not often
two or three are sure to be lurking just outside our door.”

— Kelly Link

“You can choose, you can go one of two ways. You can be the person I probably admire more and say 'well I don't care and I'll continue not to bother to brush my hair.' Or you can be a weak-willed person like me and think 'oh I'd better get my act together. And maybe my mother was right and I do need to put my hair back and tidy myself up a bit.' So I did tidy myself up a bit. But I do often resent the amount of time that it takes to pull yourself together to go on TV, I really do. If I sound bitter, then that accurately reflects how I feel about the subject.”

— J.K. Rowling

“Barack puts on his suit and tie [and] he's out the door - I'm getting my hair, makeup, the kids, I gotta brush their hair. You know, he's always looking like 'where are you? where are you going?' But yeah, you know - it's fun to look pretty.”

— Michelle Obama

“I brush my hair,
waiting in the pain machine for my bones to get hard,
for the soft, soft bones that were laid apart
and were screwed together. They will knit.
And the other corpse, the fractured heart,
I feed it piecemeal, little chalice. I'm good to it.”

— Anne Sexton

“There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning ...”

— Anne Sexton

“Celia laughs and a curl of her hair falls across her cheek. Marco tentatively moves to brush it off her face, but before his fingers reach her, she pushes herself off the ledge, her silver gown a billowing cloud as she falls onto the pile of jewel-toned cushions.”

— Erin Morgenstern

“On those remote pages [of 'a certain Chinese encyclopedia'] it is written that animals are divided into (a) those that belong to the Emperor, (b) embalmed ones, (c) those that are trained, (d) suckling pigs, (e) mermaids, (f ) fabulous ones, (g) stray dogs, (h) those that are included in this classification, (i) those that tremble as if they were mad, (j) innumerable ones, (k) those drawn with a very fine camel's hair brush, (l) others, (m) those that have just broken a flower vase, (n) those that resemble flies from a distance.”

— Jorge Luis Borges

“You hold in your hand the camel's-hair brush of a painter of Life. You stand before the vast white canvas of Time. The paints are your thoughts, emotions and acts.”

— Wilferd Peterson

“Dear, dead women, with such hair, too
what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms?”

— Robert Browning