Blonde Girl Quotes & Sayings

So ... what are you up to?" she asked.
"I'm looking at a pretty girl."
Huh? If this were texting, that would definitely earn a WTF reply. "Okaay ... "
"She's blonde, wearing blue and standing with two friends. She's talking on her phone, probably to some unworthy jerk, but damn, I wish I were him. — Cherrie Lynn

Um. Your Majesty?"
Starting, he whipped his gaze back to the blonde girl.
"Would you like me to take you to the podship dock?"
He forced his hands to unclench, reminding himself that he was the ruler of the Eastern Commonwealth and would behave accordingly, even among criminals and monsters.
"Thank you," he gasped. "That would be appreciated. — Marissa Meyer

I'm really just a throw-my-hair-into-a-ponytail kind of girl. I don't like styles that are too neat or too done. I don't think I'll ever go too crazy with colors. I stick with my main two: goldish-blonde or black. — Trina

She had streaked blonde hair, long and straight, parted in the middle framing high cheek bones, an aquiline nose and beautiful deep blue eyes. She was young, around 30, tall and lithe with a good body, athletic, not skinny. She wore a sleeveless black dress that exposed her toned arms and shoulders, indicating regular workouts or yoga. There was a hint of vein running the length of her lean muscle. This girl stood out like an arabian in a corral full of draft horses. — Nick Hahn

I think the sophomore curse happens when you change every bit of yourself. Though my hair is blonde now, sonically it's still the same girl; conceptually it's still the same girl. — Keri Hilson

Appearing in 'Legally Blonde' has helped me find my inner girl, although at the beginning the director was constantly telling me off for sitting like a boy, with my legs apart, while wearing a cocktail dress and heels! — Sheridan Smith

I was hoping Betsy Nash would disappear. Literally. She was so insubstantial, I could imagine her slowly evaporating, leaving only a sticky spot on the edge of the sofa. But she lingered, eyes darting between me and her husband before we even began speaking. Like she was winding up for the conversation. The children, too, hovered about, little blonde ghosts trapped in a limbo between indolence and stupidity. The pretty girl might do all right. But the piggy middle child, who now waddled dazedly into the room, was destined for needy sex and snack-cake bingeing. The boy was the type who'd end up drinking in gas-station parking lots. The kind of angry, bored kid I saw on my way into town. — Gillian Flynn

I don't care how you label yourself - friend, girlfriend, strange blonde girl who follows me around ... "
He laughed when I smacked him on the arm.
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm crazy about you, — Julie Johnson

I'm Mexican-American. My dad was actually born in Mexico. He was raised up there, and he came back and forth to America pretty much his whole teenage years. My mom is from Sacramento, California, and she's a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. She's a whitey. — Ryan Guzman

When I look at Mari now, it's like I see her in layers - the burning blonde with the ribbon over her mouth, the princess tearing apart a screwed-up tea party, the goddess wrapped in burning chains, and the girl who is somehow all those things yet isn't aware of it. Who doesn't even see the cliff she's running toward at full speed. — Erica Cameron

Don't forget to bring that little blonde haired girl along. You know the one, love to watch her jump up and down. — Randy Newman

The bathroom was jungle-fogged, flooded with puddles, piled with soaked towels; cakes of soap with long strands of blonde baked in.
A girl in pieces: Barbie-thin ankles, a shaving cut on her knee; hipbones she could stab you with; white hands gelled with strawberry body lotion. — Allyse Near

I kiss him like the fairytale prince that every girl wants. His horse might be black instead of white and he isn't blonde haired and blue eyed, but damn, he has butterflies inked into his skin and birds on his back, an eyebrow and a lip ring and words of wisdom peppered with the foulest fucking language known to man. I would take Ty McCabe over a knight in shining armor any day. — C.M. Stunich

Detective Inspector Carver took a picture from the breast pocket of his suit. He handed it to me. 'This is what you did, Michael. Take a good look. See if it jogs your memory.'
I gawped at the mutilated corpse of a naked young girl lying on a blood-soaked double bed. Her hands were bound to the brass headboard with duct tape. Blood covered her upper body, and her long blonde hair was streaked a murderous shade of red. One eye stared at the ceiling as if searching for salvation, the other, a bloody unrecognisable pulp, bore no relation to its sightless counterpart.
'Carla Marie Coombs. Twenty-one years of age. Do you recognise her, Michael? — Mark Tilbury

You go to a party or whatever, and you spend the whole night zeroing in on the woman in red, the blonde in the corner, the girl with the big laugh, and then, as you are leaving, you see someone out of the corner of your eye, her hair glinting in the light, her long neck tilted slightly as she listens intently to the person next to her. And you know she's the one you should of talked to. — Jennifer Kaufman

She was a natural blonde, with delicate hands and feet, and in her youthful photographs one saw a girl with mocking eyes and a tragic smile, the course of whose life would conspire in time to transpose that pair of adjectives. — Michael Chabon

I couldn't compete with Honesty,

With her dark blonde hair streaked with auburn,
With her captivating blue eyes,
With her legs that stretched into forever.
She had the brains,
The body,
The perfect resume for girlfriend.

And me?
I had the perfect resume for
Best friend.
All the boys said so. — Elana Johnson

Love is a strawberry blonde liar, tease-baby, princess-girl torture. — Mary Elizabeth

Thoughts are powerful, one thinking for something makes big changes... you try... Imagine this say "I want to fuck", then imaginate a girl. A woman which is 18 years old, blonde hair, white skin, big ass, big boobs, long legs, and likes to play with dicks... Think few times on such type of stuff and look the magic! — Deyth Banger

I suddenly turn my head to the blonde tall girl in tight high boots and mini tight skirt. Her shirt is - I think-in wrong size, because it is obviously too small and looks like her second skin. You can almost see her belly button. Not that I pay attention to her belly button. But everytime I see someone who's dressing like a fucking whore, I always imagining her belly button even I do not want to. I don't even care about her boobs or whatever. That is so weird, I probably have some major disorder. — Rea Lidde

Most people in Iceland are blonde and blue-eyed. I was nicknamed 'China girl' in school 'cos they thought I looked Asian. — Bjork

But it was worth it. The blonde was some dancer. She was one of the best dancers I ever danced with. I'm not kidding, some of these very stupid girls can really knock you out on a dance floor. You take a really smart girl, and half the time she's trying to lead you around the dance floor, or else she's such a lousy dancer, the best thing to do is stay at the table and just get drunk with her. — J.D. Salinger

He pushed my back against the stall door, kissing me. Edward had tried kissing me, but I'd been so shocked I'd barely had time to explore how it felt. Lucy had told me stories of shady corners and sweaty palms. But this was passionate. Wild. Something I'd never known.
"Have you kissed a girl before?" I whispered. He ran his thumb over my cheek. His eyes lingered on my lips.
"Yes," he said. I thought of Alice, her pretty blonde hair, the split lip that made her so vulnerable. But it wasn't her name he said.
"A woman at the docks in Brisbane. She didn't mean anything. I was lonely. It wasn't love." A prostitute, he meant. — Megan Shepherd

He gave his father a gentle shove. "Up the stairs."
"Jesper?" said a voice from beneath the nearest table. A pretty blonde girl looked up from where she was crouched on the floor.
"Madeleine?" Jesper said. "Madeleine Michaud?"
"You said we'd have breakfast!"
"I had to go to Fjerda."
"Fjerda?"
Jesper headed up the stairs after Wylan, then poked his head back into the reading room. "If I live, I'll buy you waffles."
"You don't have enough money to buy her waffles," Wylan grumbled.
"Be quiet. We're in a library. — Leigh Bardugo

I'm not the stereotypical blonde vixen girl but rather the blonde freckled girl from Kentucky. — Maggie Lawson

The girl next door isn't necessarily blonde and blue-eyed anymore. So I don't feel like I need to morph into that all-American thing. — Emmanuelle Chriqui

It's not like I'm looking for a blonde or a brunette, light-skinned or dark-skinned. I feel like I give any girl a fighting chance. — Ryan Lochte

John Lennon brought his wife Cynthia, a nice blonde girl and she was horribly put out of sight and stayed home. I know it broke John's heart John wasn't happy about it and she was
because we spoke on the plane. I photographed her and them on the plane coming over. And you know photographs don't lie. They tried putting on a black wig on her for a couple of days and that was the sad part that kept quiet because they wanted them to be like, you know, fresh- which they were — Harry Benson

I definitely believe in type casting. If you're a girl with bleach-blonde hair, everyone automatically thinks 'prom queen, cheerleader.' It just happens. — Cassie Scerbo

A blonde girl wearing a man's shirt but in all other visible respects unmanly to the point of outright effeminacy. — Kingsley Amis

If you go to a network and say, "I wanna do prison stories about black women and Latino women and old women," you're not gonna make a sale. But, if you've got this blonde girl going to prison, you can get in there, and then you can tell all the stories. I just thought it was a terrific gateway drug into all the things I wanted to get into. — Jenji Kohan

The first thing I ever thought of when I thought of Buffy , the movie, was the little ... blonde girl who goes into a dark alley and gets killed, in every horror movie. The idea of Buffy was to subvert that idea, that image, and create someone who was a hero where she had always been a victim. That element of surprise ... genre-busting is very much at the heart of both the movie and the series. — Joss Whedon

I was told I was fat in the modeling world, and a director on a shoot told me I needed to lose weight. The J-Lo booty wasn't popular then, and I wanted to be the perfect Hollywood girl - tall, blonde and skinny. I couldn't do the 'tall' because I was 5'2, and I couldn't do the skinny, either. — Coco Austin

She had a woman's swagger at twelve-and-a-half. Hair: strawberry-blonde, and I vaguely recall a daisy in the crook of her ear. She was an inch taller than me, two with the ponytail; smooth cheeks and darling brown eyes that marbled in luscious contrast with her magnolia skin; cream, melting to peach, melting to pink. She beamed like a cherub without the baby fat; a tender neck; pristine lips that would never part for a dirty word. Her body
of no interest to me at the time
was wrapped from neck to toes with home-made footie pajamas, the kind they make for toddlers, but I didn't laugh; the girl filled that silly one-piece ensemble as if it were couture. — Jake Vander Ark

I wondered if I would appear on a temple wall painting someday. A blonde Egyptian girl with purple highlights running sideways through the palm trees, screaming "Yikes!" in hieroglyphics as Neith chased after me. The thought of some poor archaeologist trying to figure that out almost lifted my spirits. — Rick Riordan

Blonde Queenie, the most beautiful girl ever to don witches' robes, is standing in a silk slip, supervising the mending of a dress on a dressmaker's dummy. Jacob is thunderstruck. — J.K. Rowling

Marius glowered at the long cone-shaped ship with its stupid curving tailfins. His field scan swept out. It was an illusion, produced by a small module on the airlock floor. He smashed a disruptor pulse into the solido projector, and the starship image shivered, shrinking down to a beautiful, naked young girl with blonde hair that hung halfway down her back. 'Oh, Howard,' she moaned sensually, running her hands up her body, 'do that again.' Marius let out an incoherent cry, and shot the projector again. — Peter F. Hamilton

Whereas before I was a young, blonde girl who would do what she was told. I know who I am as a person and I'm getting damn strong. — Britney Spears

When I was blonde I was perceived as an innocent and sweet young girl. — Samantha Mathis

I'm planning to go redneck chic with the wedding," Maddy announced, looking through the racks of dresses.
"What the hell is that?"
"Redneck chic is a nice way of saying I have bad taste, but I'm embracing it."
Sizing up Maddy's blonde girl next door beauty, I found her dressed normal. "Bad taste how? Is this about Tucker because, yeah, I see it?"
Maddy rolled her blue eyes then walked to the next rack. "Tucker is gorgeous. He's the classiest part of my life."
Nearby, Raven burst into laughter to the point of nearly pissing herself. I didn't blame her since we'd all seen Tucker fall off chairs and struggle with push/ pull doors. Classy, he was not. — Bijou Hunter

I'm 25. I'm a white, blonde girl in the entertainment industry - it's so easy to fall into a world of pleasing everyone. I feel more comfortable showing all these odd angles to myself. — Brie Larson

We match each other stroke for stroke until I get a hit on her right arm.

She tries to switch sword arms, but I jab my scim at her wrist faster than she can parry. Her scim goes flying, and I tackle her. Her white-blonde hair tumbles free of her bun.

"Surrender!" I pin her down at the wrists, but she trashes and rips one arm free, scrabbling for a dagger at her waist. Steel stabs at my ribs, and seconds later, I am on my back with a blade at my throat.

"Ha!" She leans down, her hair falling around us like a shimmering silver curtain. — Sabaa Tahir

The girl cupped her hands over her eyes and blinked. She was pretty enough, with blonde highlights that you can only find in youth or a bottle. "Hi." Loren — Harlan Coben

That depends. You've got to define 'party girl.' If you mean I'm a walking good time, then hells yeah. But I'm not wasted and stumbling out of clubs and getting DUIs. I'm not that kind of party girl. I may be blonde and fun as balls, but I'm not a moron. — Ke$ha

I elbowed James as he shot my army guy in the head yet again.
"This game is so sexist," I complained. "I can't believe that there isn't even an option for me to play as a girl."
"Do you think that if you were playing as a busty blonde it would distract me?" James asked, amused.
"It couldn't hurt."
He tossed his controller on the ground. I gave a little embarrassing shriek as he tossed me over his shoulder. "We're done, guys. Buttercup wants to distract me. Consider me distracted. — R.K. Lilley

How far could you trace back such a chain, he wondered, past the Harmon girl being chosen that night to bring his food, past the tree shattering a man's backbone due to a badly notched trunk, past that to an axe unsharpened because a man drank too much the night before, past that to why the man had gotten drunk in the first place? Was it something you never found the end to? Or was there no chain at all, just a moment when you did or didn't step close to a young woman and let you fingers brush a fall of blonde hair behind her ears, did or did not lean to that uncovered ear and tell her that you found her quite fetching." ~G. Pemberton (58) — Ron Rash

Picture to yourself the most beautiful girl imaginable! She was so beautiful that there would be no point, in view of my meagre talent for storytelling, in even trying to put her beauty into words. That would far exceed my capabilities, so I'll refrain from mentioning whether she was a blonde or a brunette or a redhead, or whether her hair was long or short or curly or smooth as silk. I shall also refrain from the usual comparisons where her complexion was concerned, for instance milk, velvet, satin, peaches and cream, honey or ivory, Instead, I shall leave it entirely up to your imagination to fill in this blank with your own ideal of feminine beauty. — Walter Moers

At first we raced through space, like shadows and light; her rants, my raves; her dark hair, my blonde; black dresses, white. She's a purple-black African-violet-dark butterfly and I a white moth. We were two wild ponies, Dawn and Midnight, the wind electrifying our manes and our hooves quaking the city; we were photo negatives of each other, together making the perfect image of a girl. — Francesca Lia Block

Just before the men closed the tail gate on the float, she strained her head to see me and nodded her head so hard her blonde mane flew around her face - she looked like she was standing in a cloud of icing sugar. She uttered such a quiet neigh, it seemed only I heard it. She stared at me, and closed her eyes. Then she was gone. — Kelly Batten

You," I said, "have this whole tall, dark stranger thing going on. Not to mention the tortured artist bit."
"Bit?"
"You know what I mean."
He shook his head, clearly discounting this description. "And you," he said, "have that whole blonde, cool and collected, perfect smart girl thing going on."
"You're the boy all the girls want to rebel with," I said.
"You," he replied, "are the unattainable girl in the homeroom who never gives a guy the time of the day."
There was a blast of music from inside, a thump of bass beat, then quiet again.
"I'm not perfect," I said. "Not even close."
"I'm not tortured. Unless you count this conversation. — Sarah Dessen

You know what else is hot?" said a nameless blonde as she put her arm around the one black girl.
"What?"
"Bisexuals."
"Totally. Well, not like real bisexuals who are just sort of your everyday people, but, like, the kind of bisexuals you see in magazines wearing nothing but body paint and kissing both boys and girls to promote a new single."
"Totally, totally hot. — Libba Bray

Her honey-blonde hair is strewn across her face as she sways her head. She's working a red sequined bikini separated by a tan, flat stomach, and a butterfly tattoo resting on her left hip. Her legs are clad in black fishnets that run into a pair of white-heeled boots - still a knockout. — Kevin James Moore

On the lawn one late summer day, her pale hair tangled because she'd cry if anyone tried to brush it, spinning around and around until she got so dizzy she fell in a pile of bare feet and dandelions and sundress. — Holly Black

I remember vividly one distinct memory of arriving in Hong Kong and being the only blonde haired girl in this sea of international students, and thinking, 'Oh, my God. There's no hiding here.' — Adelaide Clemens

I'm always tan and blonde and don't really fit into New York. I'm a California girl, even if I try and cover it up with leather. — Gigi Hadid

You, have this whole tall, dark stranger thing going on. Not to mention the tortured artist bit.
And you, have that whole blonde cool and collected perfect smart thing going on.
You're the boy all the girls want to rebel with.
You, are the unattainable girl in homeroom who never gives a guy the time of day. — Sarah Dessen