Quotes
Quotes about Hair
I pray thee let me and my fellow have
A haire of the dog that bit us last night.
But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I 'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
My fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
As life were in 't: I have supp'd full with horrors.
I am thy father's spirit,
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part
And each particular hair to stand an end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it:
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field,
Of hair-breadth'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence
And portance in my travels' history;
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak,--such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline.
Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
Had stomach for them all.
As sweet and musical
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.
Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free,--
Such sweet neglect more taketh me
Than all the adulteries of art:
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
He could distinguish and divide
A hair 'twixt south and southwest side.
Incens'd with indignation Satan stood
Unterrify'd, and like a comet burn'd
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war.
Sabrina fair,
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair.
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair.
An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with loose care.
She knows her man, and when you rant and swear,
Can draw you to her with a single hair.
His hair just grizzled,
As in a green old age.
Fair tresses man's imperial race insnare,
And beauty draws us with a single hair.
The meeting points the sacred hair dissever
From the fair head, forever, and forever!
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!
The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the devil they got there.
O thou! whatever title please thine ear,
Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver!
Whether thou choose Cervantes' serious air,
Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy-chair.
Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,
And heard thy everlasting yawn confess
The pains and penalties of idleness.
Loose his beard, and hoary hair
Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.
Than Timoleon's arms require,
And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden lyre.
And Katerfelto, with his hair on end
At his own wonders, wondering for his bread.
'T is pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat,
To peep at such a world,--to see the stir
Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight,
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair,
Like twilights too her dusky hair,
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
