Like all New York hotel lady cashiers she had red hair and had been disappointed in her first husband.— Al Capp
Beautiful Red Hair quotations
Wrinkles mean you laughed, grey hair means you cared and scars mean you lived!
When I died my hair red the first time, I felt as if it was what nature intended. I have been accused of being a bit of a spitfire, so in that way, I absolutely live up to the stereotype. The red hair suits my personality. I was a terrible blonde!
I got a feeling I had loads when I was in primary school, 'cause I had red hair;
you know, like Duracell.
If i don't have red, I use blue.
Santa Claus wears a Red Suit, he must be a communist.
And a beard and long hair, must be a pacifist. What's in that pipe that he's smoking?
Blonde is dumb comedy, red hair is smart, sexy comedy.
I was the biggest Harry Potter fan. I read all the books. Ron was always my favorite character, because I feel like I relate to him, like weve both got red hair, we both like sweets, weve both got lots of brothers and sisters. Ive got one brother and three sisters, and both scared of spiders.
When someone is unkind keep a smile on your face. When you follow the Red road and keep you joy You take away their power.
City lights shine bright on my complexion, Self-reflection.
..red hairs flashing at the intersection. Life is a green light, one star, no script, Supporting actors...fresh peaches, no pit.
You're not a woman," he said finally. "You're the Grim Reaper with red hair!
We had individuality. We did as we pleased. We stayed up late. We dressed the way we wanted. I used to whiz down Sunset Boulevard in my open Kissel, with several red chow dogs to match my hair. Today, they're sensible and end up with better health. But we had more fun.
You can't control everything. Your hair was put on your head to remind you of that.
If you're betwixt and between, trust the one with red hair.
There are no captions on red-carpet photos that say, 'This girl trained for two weeks, she went on a juice diet, she has a professional hair and makeup person, and this dress was made for her.' I just wish they'd say, 'It ain't the truth.'
Ethiopians imagine their gods as black and snub-nosed;
Thracians blue-eyed and red-haired. But if horses or lions had hands, or could draw and fashion works as men do, horses would draw the gods shaped like horses and lions like lions, making the gods resemble themselves.
I want daisies in my hair, green tea in my hand, and love in my heart
If oxen and lions had hands and could paint with their hands and produce works of art, as men do, horses would paint the forms of the gods likes horses and oxen like oxen. Each would represent them with bodies according to the bodies of each. So the Ethiopians make their gods black and snub-nosed; the Thracians give theirs red hair and blue eyes.
Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running - that's the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach.
Having red hair is never good when you're a kid.
I was picked on a lot and didn't have a lot of friends. But I think that gave me a thick skin and helped make me a better person.
When in doubt, wear red !
I went through a real punk stage-I had braids, red hair, pink hair, green hair, I cut it into a Mohawk, the lot. Then about five years ago, I dyed it dark and stayed out of the sun to get pale, because I hated looking like everyone else, all blonde hair and tanned skin.
I got my red dress on tonight Dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight Done my hair up real big beauty queen style High heels off, I'm feeling alive
Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony.
Salt in the air, sand in my hair
Should you happen to notice that another person is extremely tall or overweight, eats too much or declines convivial drinks, has red hair or goes about in a wheelchair, ought to get married or ought not to be pregnant -- see if you can refrain from bringing these astonishing observations to that person's attention.
When I was a kid in the mid-'60s, I was what's known as a moddie boy, a prototype skinhead. You all had your hair like a crew cut, cropped, with suits or Levis with red suspenders, sometimes Doc Martens. It was a thriving soul music, Motown and ska scene; we used to dance to Prince Buster and the Skatalites.
I love my red hair. It makes me spunkier.
I know at one point I had bright red hair and I had bracelets from my wrist up to my elbow and I was wearing size 50 pants. I wouldn't wear that today, but I'm not embarrassed about wearing it back then any more.
I'm not Irish. Just because I have red hair doesn't mean I'm a lucky charm, you know?
People who haven’t red hair don’t know what trouble is.
I hate the color red almost as much as i hate blond hair,"he said with an amused tone. -Dank
Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.
Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.
The proprietor had hair so red that pigmentation had flowed out into every visible inch of his skin and even into the pinks of his eyes, as the colour of flowering cherry trees stains their leaves.
He walked by instinct along one white road, on which early birds hopped and sang, and found himself outside a fenced garden. There he saw the sister of Gregory, the girl with the gold-red hair, cutting lilac before breakfast, with the great unconscious gravity of a girl.
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.
Ash, ash —- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—— A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.
Red hair is great. It's rare, and therefore superior.
Such a morning it is when love leans through geranium windows and calls with a cockerel's tongue. When red-haired girls scamper like roses over the rain-green grass, and the sun drips honey.
I'm tugging at my hair. I'm pulling at my clothes. I'm trying to keep my cool, I know it shows. I'm staring at my feet. My cheeks are turning red. I'm searching for the words inside my head. I'm feeling nervous trying to be perfect, 'cause I know you're worth it.
My wearing my hair in locs on an Oscar red carpet was to showcase them in a positive light, to remind people of color that our hair is good enough.