Do you suppose my hair will really be a handsome auburn when I grow up?”
Her hair was dark brown, a little lighter than her brother’s; there was a proud light in her almost black eyes and yet at times a look of extraordinary kindness.
I think to myself, ‘Now my hair is a glorious black, black as the raven’s wing.’
Her hair was a wonderful ashen yellow, a great mass of it--and laid in big, thick braids above her forehead and ears.
The shaven face, which I had pointed out at the Opera, might have been covered by a beard in Pesca's time--his dark brown hair might be a wig--his name was evidently a false one.
Her hair was a rich red in color and fell in flowing ringlets over her shoulders.
Her hair was pure gold rippling back from her alabaster brow.
Her hair was a bleached white.
His hair was thinning and he wore it parted on one side.
Her long hair was a tangle of claret dreadlocks that seemed alive, like snakes writhing around her face.
‘It can’t go straight, you know, if you pin it all on one side,’ Alice said, as she gently put it right for her; ‘and, dear me, what a state your hair is in!’
Above all, his hair is a source of anxiety.
You know my hair is a sort of golden brown, rather a pretty shade I’ve been told, and a dark red matches it beautifully; and then I always think a light-blue necktie goes so well with it, and a pair of those Russian-leather shoes and a red silk handkerchief round the waist—a handkerchief looks so much better than a belt.
Her hair, though dark, was many shades removed from black, and of it she possessed a more than bountiful supply.
Hairs, like feathers, are long and elaborately specialized scales.
I have proof now—green hair is proof enough for anybody.
You’re wearing a rich man’s garments, you’re wearing the shoes of a distinguished gentleman, and your hair, with the fragrance of perfume, is not a pilgrim’s hair, not the hair of a Samana.”
It can’t be denied your hair is terrible red; but I knew a girl once—went to school with her, in fact—whose hair was every mite as red as yours when she was young, but when she grew up it darkened to a real handsome auburn.
Her short, blonde hair was a spiky mess and the ratty, faded lavender robe she was wearing had seen better days.
All the hair he has is three or four long dark locks on his forehead and behind his ears."
The hair had been shoulder length, but she extended it for several minutes, making it grow until it would reach all the way down her back once she stood.
You’re wearing a rich man’s garments, you’re wearing the shoes of a distinguished gentleman, and your hair, with the fragrance of perfume, is not a pilgrim’s hair, not the hair of a Samana.”
Youth has nothing to do with birthdays, only with ALIVEDNESS of spirit, so even if your hair is grey, Daddy, you can still be a boy.
"'A sweet-faced woman, with wavy brown hair in which were golden glints like yours,' he went on, monotonously; but this time I could not answer at all."
Hair was evidently the earliest distinction of the mammals from the rest of the reptiles.
His hair was a messy confusion of dark curls, and his shoulders were broad.
Hair is perhaps the clue to, the salvation of the early mammals.
The Red-Haired ¶ One may belong to the Thoracic type whether his hair is blonde or brunette or any of the shades between, but it is an interesting fact that most of the red-haired are largely of this type. "
Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundled into a net, to be out of her way.
"Her hair is yellow, her eyes are blue, and she comes from Blackwood," commented Bangs. "
