Combed Quotes & Sayings

It was all part of growing up. You got these little quick passions, you blinked, and they were gone. You forgave faults, found perfection, fell madly; then the next day the sun came up and it was over. Chalk it up to experience, old girl, and get on with the morning. Buttercup stood, made her bed, changed her clothes, combed her hair, smiled, and burst out again in a fit of weeping. Because there was a limit to just how much you could lie to yourself. — William Goldman

He was pushing fifty, with a face life had chewed on, and long wisps of graying hair parted low on one side and combed over his balding pate. — Patricia Cornwell

Ms. Wrack's mother, Mrs. Wrack, had been a mermaid: a proper one who lived on a rock and combed her hair and sang. But sailors had never been lured to their doom by her, partly because she looked like the back of a bus and partly because modern ships are so high out of the water that they never even saw her — Eva Ibbotson

He had a long thin nose, a moustache like flock wallpaper, sparse, carefully combed hair, and the complexion of a Hovis loaf. — Len Deighton

In the second row was a boy named Doon Harrow. He sat with his shoulders hunched, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, and his hands clasped tightly together. His hair looked rumpled, as if he hadn't combed it for a while. He had dark, thick eyebrows, which made him look serious at the best of times and, when he was anxious or angry, came together to form a straight line across his forehead. His brown corduroy jacket was so old that its ridges had flattened out. — Jeanne DuPrau

His drawings were not originals then, only copies. He must have been doing them as a sort of retirement hobby, he was an incurable amateur and enthusiast; if he'd become hooked (on these rock paintings) he would have combed the area for them, collecting them with his camera, pestering experts by letter whenever he found one; an old man's delusion of usefulness. — Margaret Atwood

Seals do not sit about and tell, the way people do, and their lives are not eventful in the way people's are, lines of story combed again and again, in the hope that they will yield more sense with every stroke. — Margo Lanagan

Silly woman," he said in Gaelic. "You have not the brain of a fly!" I caught the words for "foolish," and "clumsy," in the subsequent remarks, but quickly stopped listening. I closed my eyes and lost myself instead in the dreamy pleasure of having my hair rubbed dry and then combed out. — Diana Gabaldon

Ty, have you ever considered how lucky we are, you and I, that certain genes skipped a
generation? Don't close off," she said before he could draw away. "You're so like Eli."
She combed her fingers through his hair. She'd come to love the way she could tease out the reds.
"Tough guy," she said as she touched her lips to his cheek. "Solid as a rock. Don't let the weak space
between you and Eli cut at you. — Nora Roberts

He closed the fridge door, made his last breakfast - scrambled eggs - and showered, dressed, combed his hair, left for the theater an hour early so he'd have time to linger with the newspaper over his second-to-last coffee at his favorite coffee place, all of the small details that comprise a morning, a life. — Emily St. John Mandel

When the bald associate had mentioned a sleeping beauty, he was referring to a fairy tale that you have probably heard one thousand times. Like all fairy tales, the story of Sleeping Beauty begins with 'Once upon a time,' and continues with a foolish young princess who makes a witch very angry, and then takes a nap until her boyfriend wakes her up with a kiss and insists on getting married, at which point the story ends with the phrase 'happily ever after.' The story is usually illustrated with fancy drawings of the napping princess, who always looks very glamorous and elegant, with her hair neatly combed and a long silk gown keeping her comfortable as she snores away for years and years. — Lemony Snicket

They were in good spirits, scrubbed and combed, clean shirts all. Each foreseeing a night of drink, perhaps of love. How many youths have come home cold and dead from just such nights and just such plans. — Cormac McCarthy

Rare is the book that can actually transform us into better, more fulfilled people. Having combed through the research and documented case studies all over the world, Kristof and WuDunn present the clearest view I have ever seen of the human soul. A Path Appears tells us whether we are intrinsically good, why specific ways we parent our newborns help predict their chances for success, and how we can live lives of greater significance. This book, full of rich and riveting true stories, reminds us that human greatness is all around us, and even within us, if we dare to look. — Ann Curry

He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, the picture of nonchalance, and even as a human, he was too gorgeous for words. His dark hair had been combed back, falling softly around his face, and his mercury eyes, though they should've seemed pale against all the white, glimmered more brightly than anything. And they were fixed solely on me. — Julie Kagawa

My wife asked me about that: "What happened to your beard?" I said, "What are you talking about?" She said, "Hey, the right side is shorter than the left." I said, "You gotta be kidding me." So I went in there and looked, and I combed it out and I said, "I don't know, that's just the way it grows." — Si Robertson

Ian stared until she disappeared inside the elevator. Then he glanced back at me.
"Don't fret, poppet. I'll get her."
"We need to do this discreetly. If I wanted to make a colossal scene, I'd just drag her off kicking and screaming now," I said, not adding, "dumb ass" only because he was family.
"She'll come without a fuss," Ian said with confidence.
"You can't green-eye her in the elevator, it'll have video surveillance. So will the garage," I retorted.
"I don't need these," Ian said, flashing emerald in his turquoise gaze for a split second, "when I have this."
With a casual swipe of his hand, he ripped his shirt open, causing buttons to fly everywhere. Another swipe took his sleep mask all the way off. Finally, he finger-combed his shoulder-lenght hair and smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
"I am after all, irresistible. — Jeaniene Frost

I get a lot of credit for comb-overs. But it's not really a comb-over. It's sort of a little bit forward and back. I've combed it the same way for years. Same thing, every time. — Donald Trump

Well I work up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt,
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day. — Kris Kristofferson

and fair hair combed off her face and arranged in a large bun at the back of her neck; a style which at the moment happened to be fashionable although that was not her reason for wearing it so. She was a woman who always kept to her own style. — Agatha Christie

Anyone have some mints or some gum?" Bonnie asked. No one did, and she turned to Joe Hill Conley. She scrutinized him a moment, then, using her fingers, combed his part over to the left side. "That looks better," she said. Nearly two decades later, the little hair he has left remains parted by Bonnie's invisible hand. — Jeffrey Eugenides

If I don't get food in my mouth, I'm still happy. If my pants are round my ankles, as long as I don't get arrested for indecent exposure, I'm happy. I'm worried about keeping my hair, not how it's combed. — Michael J. Fox

When her mother combed Harriet's hair, she said that the woods were disgustingly muddy and mosquito-ridden. During her history unit on pioneers, her father bashfully admitted that he couldn't pitch a tent, barbeque, or fight off bears in a forest. They both agreed that such a place was unsafe. Hotels were better. — Kimberly Karalius

Constantine, eight years old, was working in his father's garden and thinking about his own garden, a square of powdered granite he had staked out and combed into rows at the top of his family's land. — Michael Cunningham

If we have a decent sort of cat to begin with, and have always treated it courteously, and aren't cursed with meddling, bullying natures, it's a pleasure to let it do as it pleases. With children, this would be wicked and irresponsible, so raising children involves a lot of effort and friction. They need to be taught how to tie their shoes and multiply fractions, they need to be punished for pocketing candy in the grocery store, they need to be washed and combed and forced to clean up their rooms and say please and thank you. A cat is our relief and our reward. — Barbara Holland

Ikenna was a fragile, delicate bird; he was a sparrow. Little things could unbridle his soul. Wistful thoughts often combed his melancholic spirit in search of craters to be filled with sorrow. — Chigozie Obioma

Fate often allows a future to take shape with no regard for our expectation, plan, or readiness. Fate's skillful editing of our life choices is like the careful grooming of lads on their first day of school: combed, polished, scrubbed, newly dressed, and glowing too. This is how we become ready for our life lessons. — David Richo

A woman who is starved for her real soul-life may look 'cleaned up and combed' on the outside, but on the inside she is filled with dozens of pleading hands and empty mouths. — Clarissa Pinkola Estes

We wanted to take Polaroids of her and all the kids, about eight of them, of all ages, several photos, so we could give some to the family. She grabbed her youngest and asked us to wait. And then like any mother, anywhere in the world - do not let anyone tell you that people are fundamentally different - she combed the child's hair and changed his shirt before letting him pose for the pictures. The second shirt was slightly less dirty than the first. She wanted him to look his best. That mother could have been in Greenwich, Connecticut, as easily as on the steppes of Mongolia. — Jim Rogers

He combed his milk-white hair and crooned a tune to himself, clipped on his yellow chamois shoulder holster and stepped out into the soft night and his smooth car.
As he drove, he considered the stars. It would all be over in a flash. — Michael Moorcock

Jesus was a penniless teacher who wandered about the dusty sun-bit country of Judea, living upon casual gifts of food; yet he is always represented clean, combed, and sleek, in spotless raiment, erect, and with something motionless about him as though he was gliding through the air. This alone has made him unreal and incredible to many people who cannot distinguish the core of the story from the ornamental and unwise additions of the unintelligently devout. — H.G.Wells

Why do we have to go to Summerwind Abbey tonight? Why couldn't we have waited until I at least combed the sand out of my hair? She heard the whine in her voice and realized she'd been reduced to petulance. With any luck at all, she'd become a nag and make Jermyn a dreadful wife. — Christina Dodd

And then, standing there in my Godzilla t-shirt, her blonde hair combed to the side, she says, "Supergirls stand together." I had to say the rest, "Supergirls stay together. — Mav Skye

She tore off the kerchief from her head and let down her plentiful hair. The weight, the length, the glory was all there. She took careful stock of herself, then combed her hair and tied it back up again. — Zora Neale Hurston

Well-washed and well-combed domestic pets grow dull; they miss the stimulus of fleas. — Francis Galton

I am always behind the shopper at the grocery store who has stitched her coupons in the lining of her coat and wants to talk about a 'strong' chicken she bought two weeks ago. The register tape also runs out just before her sub-total. In the public restroom, I always stand behind the teen-ager who is changing into her band uniform for a parade and doesn't emerge until she has combed the tassels on her boots, shaved her legs, and recovered her contact lens from the commode. — Erma Bombeck

There was Kir, red hair combed back and That Expression on his sharp face. Even his freckles looked serious. I'd given up wondering how a freckle-faced teenager could look so much like a disapproving granny. — Lilith Saintcrow

Nothing is ever good enough," he said. He combed my hair with his fingers. "I feel like I'm putting rags on porcelain. I barely tolerate the things you do wear. — C.L.Stone

His suit is perfectly pressed, his blond hair expertly combed, — Tahereh Mafi

If Dracula can't see his reflection in a mirror, how come his hair is always so neatly combed? — Steven Wright

All a woman needs is a good bath, clean clothes, and for her hair to be combed. These things she can do herself. I very seldom go to the hairdresser, but when I do, I just marvel. — Hedy Lamarr

Shined, combed, brushed and gorgeous — Anthony Burgess

He wildly combed his hair with his fingers. "I can't bear to be out there with you right now, all those indifferent people watching you, admiring you, but not really caring. Not as I do." Jane: (hopeful) Really? Jane: (practical) Oh, stop that. — Shannon Hale

For an hour, blended with all she could offer, something noble had been created which had nothing to do with the physical world. And from the turn of his throat, the warmth of his hair, the strong, slender sinews of his hands, something further; which had. Though she combed the earth and searched through the smoke of the galaxies there was no being she wanted but this, who was not and should not be for Philippa Somerville. — Dorothy Dunnett

The night crackled ... Everything had turned to static electricity in the heat. I combed my hair to watch the sparks fly from the ends. — Janet Fitch

On the ride home after a long day at school, Livia commanded her eyes to look at the floor of the train and not search for him. But they took direct orders from her heart and combed the platform as the train pulled in. — Debra Anastasia

See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God's sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they'd allowed to wither in themselves. — Robert McCammon

I was captivated. My own hair was easily as long as Olga's, but it frizzed and knotted at every opportunity. When it was combed, it didn't float in perfect fans down to my shoulders. — Megan Whalen Turner

Hair, to Tillie, meant nothing by way of being a woman's crowning glory. It was merely, as the dictionary so ably states, small horny, fibrous tubes with
bulbous roots, growing out of the skins of mammals; and it was meant to be combed down as flat as possible and held in place with countless wire hairpins. — Bess Streeter Aldrich

A long time ago individuals looked at life and saw that most people aren't happy. They saw this was obviously an inefficient system. So they combed the universe and found immeasurable happiness inside of us, our spirits. — Frederick Lenz

One day I gave Clifford a bath. And I combed his hair and took hom to the dog show. I'd like to say Clifford won first prize ... but he didn't. I don't care. You can keep all your small dogs. You can keep all your black, white, brown, and spotted dogs. I'll keep Clifford ... Wouldn't you? — Norman Bridwell

There is a theorem that colloquially translates, You cannot comb the hair on a bowling ball ... Clearly, none of these mathematicians had Afros, because to comb an Afro is to pick it straight away from the scalp. If bowling balls had Afros, then yes, they could be combed without violation of mathematical theorems. — Neil DeGrasse Tyson

A few flat clouds folded themselves like crepes over fillings of apricot sky. Pompadours of supper-time smoke billowed from chimneys, separating into girlish pigtails as the breeze combed them out, above the slate rooftops. Chestnut blossoms, weary from having been admired all day, wore faint smiles of anticipation. — Tom Robbins

She'd also prepared by wearing her hair combed back severely from her face, and putting on her stiffest, highestcollared business suit. She all but carried a riding crop. — Suzanne Brockmann

You have no idea how well you are doing, John complimented me
just a few minutes after he mentioned the Christmas card. What did that mean: That I was doing well? That I'd come to a family gathering? That I'd remembered to bring food? That I was dressed, and my hair combed? That I was wearing shoes? I wasn't sure, but maybe just making an appearance at a family event meant I was handling things well. — Mary Potter Kenyon

Mr. Ethan W. Barris is an engineer and architect of somerenown, and the second of the guest to arrive.
He looks as though he has wandered into the wrong building and would be more at home in an office or a bank with his timid manner and silver spectacles, his hair carefully combed to diguise the fact that it is beginning to thin.
He met Chandresh only once before, at a symposium on ancient Greek architect.
The dinner invitation came as a surprise; Mr. Barris is not the type of man who receives invitations to unsual late-night social functions, or usual social functions for that matter, but he deemed it too impolite to decline. — Erin Morgenstern

The way grew more and more stony and this made me suspicious. If we were approaching a town we ought by now to have found a path. Instead there were these jumbled white stones that looked as if they had been combed out by an ignorant hand from the elements that make least sense. There must be stupid portions of heaven, too, and these had rolled straight down from it. I am no geologist but the word calcareous seemed to fit them. They were composed of lime and my guess was that they must have originated in a body of water. Now they were ultra-dry but filled with little caves from which cooler air was exhaled - ideal places for a siesta in the heat of noon, provided no snakes came. But the sun was in decline, trumpeting downward. The cave mouths were open and there was this coarse and clumsy gnarled white stone. — Saul Bellow

...She froze in the doorway of her kitchen.
And nearly swallowed her tongue.
Ivan leaned against the counter, wearing nothing but dark jogging pants and holding a cup of coffee. His blond hair was spiked adorably, as if he hadn't combed it yet. the sculpted muscles of his chest and shoulders stood out as he raised the cup to his mouth, a bright tattoo of intricate artwork wrapping around one shoulder and over one pec.
What she'd imagined he might look like was nothing compared to the reality of the Viking god in her kitchen. Her gaze trained on that ridiculously muscular chest and it was like she'd lost the ability to speak. Or breathe. Or, you know, think. — Katie Reus

I don't need these," Ian said, flashing emerald in his turquoise gaze for a split second, "when I have this."
With a casual swipe of his hand, he ripped his shirt open, causing buttons to fly everywhere. Another swipe took his sleep mask all the way off. Finally, he finger-combed his shoulder-length hair and smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
"I am, after all, irresistible."
I couldn't contain my snort. "I resisted you just fine the day we met, or don't you remember me sticking a knife in your chest?"
Ian smiled with lazy wickedness. "I remember, but you seem to have forgotten that you kissed me first. And thoroughly enjoyed it. — Jeaniene Frost

Strength just comes in one brand - you. Stand up at sunrise and meet what they send you and keep your hair combed — Reynolds Price

Yes, the Beast changed.
He spoke more now, and did not gaze at Beauty in the same intense, almost pained way, as if he were feeling every emotion she felt. He did not sigh in his sleep when she sighed and his stomach didn't growl when hers hurt. He could not read her thoughts anymore, and she could not read his. He seemed a bit more clumsy and guarded and distant, too. They no longer ran through the woods together, although they still walked there sometimes. They quarreled and raised their voices to each other once in a while. Each time, after they quarreled, Beauty bathed, combed the tangles from her hair, and began to wear shoes again for a few days. — Francesca Lia Block

He lay still for a while, alone in the silent house, remembering the night before, what that had been like, wondering what might be starting. Thinking did he want it to start, and what if he did. Late in the afternoon he called her. You doing all right? he said. Yes, aren't you? Yes, I am. Good. I enjoyed myself, he said. You think you'd like to get together again sometime? You're not suggesting an actual date, are you? Maggie said. In broad daylight? I don't know what you'd call it, Guthrie said. I'm just saying I'd be willing to take you out for supper at Shattuck's and invest in a hamburger. To see how that would go down. When were you thinking of doing that? Right now. This evening. Give me fifteen minutes to get ready, she said. He hung up and went upstairs and put on a clean shirt and entered the bathroom and brushed his teeth and combed his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. You don't deserve it, he said aloud. Don't ever even begin to think that you do. — Kent Haruf

He pulled the truck onto the shoulder of the road and parked, cell phone tight in one hand, his eyes on the landscape before him. From here he could see the foothills rippling out like a blanket from the ragged edge of the mountains. They spread in loose folds until becoming the flat expanse of prairie that crossed all the way to the Great Lakes. July's bounty was a brash flare of colour: wind combed through golden tracts of wheat and sun-bright canola so brilliant he had to squint.
The truck was balanced along the edge of an invisible wall which blocked Waterton from the rest of the world. He hadn't thought about how very real that barrier was; now that his phone was reconnected, it felt like a physical presence. He wasn't quite sure what he'd find on the other side. — Danika Stone

He turned his face my way, not having very far to lean in, and kissed me once, sweet and slow - a breeze off the ocean - almost like he was asking permission. He opened his eyes to look at me.
Permission granted, Lieutenant.
When we kissed again, it was totally different. He scooted closer, his warm hands on either side of my neck. The pressure of his fingers under my hair was solid and strong, yet always gentle. When his lips parted, I got dizzy, like he might positively absorb me. For a second I feared I might be swooning like those silly ladies in Jane Austen novels.
"That was rude of me to interrupt," he whispered, his lips on the corner of my mouth. "But I'm not about to make this decision easy for you."
How he managed to string together so many coherent words was beyond me; I couldn't even remember what day it was. His fingers combed through my hair, and I caught a flash of his green eyes as they flickered open. — Ophelia London

An impressionistic map of the South China Sea has been dashed across these covers by molecularly reconstructed Ming Dynasty calligraphers using brushes of combed unicorn mane dipped into ink made of grinding down charcoal slabs fashioned by blind stylite monks from hand-charred fragments of the True Cross. — Neal Stephenson

The slightly porky man on the other side of the Plexiglas has back-combed hair and arms covered in tattoos. As if it isn't enough to look like someone has slapped a pack of margarine over his head, he has to cover himself in doodles as well. There's not even a proper motif, as far as Ove can see, just a lot of patterns. Is that something an adult person in a healthy state of mind would consent to? Going about with his arms looking like a pair of pajamas? — Fredrik Backman

Come on, baby." Paris combed his fingers through her hair. "Look past my terrible personality and hideous looks and throw me a bone. Teach me how to woo you properly."
She snorted. "I'd argue the hideous looks part."
"But not the terrible personality? Ouch. That hurts, baby. — Gena Showalter

According to a CNN poll, Trump nearly doubled his support from March. Actually, he just combed his March numbers over his current ones. — Conan O'Brien

Tell me, was I the sort of person who took your elbow when cars passed on the street, touched your cheek while you talked, combed your wet hair, stopped by the side of the road in the country to point out certain constellations, standing behind you so that you had the advantage of leaning and looking up? — Nicole Krauss

Observe immigrants not as they come travel-wan up the gang-plank, nor as they issue toil-begrimed from the pit's mouth or mill-gate, but in their gatherings, washed, combed, and in their Sunday best ... [They] are hirsute, low-browed, big-faced persons of obviously low mentality ... They simply look out of place in black clothes and stiff collar, since clearly they belong in skins, in wattled huts at the close of the Great Ice Age. These ox-like men are descendants of those who always stayed behind. — Edward Alsworth Ross

I hasped the window; I combed his black long hair from his forehead; I tried to close his eyes-to extinguish, if possible, that frightful, life-like gaze of exultation, before any one else beheld it. They would not shut; they seemed to sneer at my attempts, and his parted lips and sharp, white teeth sneered too! — Emily Bronte

Scrubbed, combed, as tidy as two dudes setting off on a double date, they went out to the car. — Truman Capote

I love it when a woman is wearing Red Lipstick, and her hair is combed back, so sensual and confident. — Oribe

She smiled and combed my hair with her fingers. That was always her thing. She looked straight into my eyes and said calmly, "Your father was beautiful." She didn't even hesitate. I wanted to ask her what happened to all that beauty. — Benjamin Alire Saenz

I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face, combed my hair. If I could only comb that face, I thought, but I can't. — Charles Bukowski

As I watched the men throw more earth into the grave, I dug into the cold soil of my own mind, and it became suddenly clear - the way things always become clearer only after they have happened - that Ikenna was a fragile delicate bird; he was a sparrow. Little things could unbridle his soul. Wistful thoughts often combed his melancholic spirit in search of craters to be filled with sorrow. As a younger boy, he often sat in the backyard, brooding and contemplative, his arms clasped over his knees. He was highly critical of things, a part of him that greatly resembled Father. He nailed small things to big crosses and would ponder for long on a wrong word he said to someone; he greatly dreaded the reprove of others. He had no place for ironies or satires; they troubled him. — Chigozie Obioma

You should've mentioned you were bringing a beautiful woman. I would've combed my hair. — Lisa Kessler

Most of the people interviewing me are far more square than me. I think it's the ET thing. I'm sitting there, my hair is combed, and I'm in a suit. — John Tesh

The steel door of the incinerator went up and the muted hum of the eternal fire became a red roaring. The heat lunged out at them like a famished beast. Then Rahel's Ammu was fed to it. Her hair, her skin, her smile. Her voice. They way she used Kipling to love her children before putting them to bed: We be of one blood, though and I. Her goodnight kiss. The way she held their faces steady with one hand (squashed-cheeked, fish-mouthed) while she parted and combed their hair with the other. The way she held knickers out for Rahel to climb into. Left leg, right leg. All this was fed to the beast, and it was satisfied.
She was their Ammu and their Baba and she had loved them Double. — Arundhati Roy

Luck was a joke. Even good luck was just bad luck with its hair combed. — Stephen King

Coffee?" Isabelle finger-combed her hair and tied a cotton scarf around her head. "No, merci, it is too precious." The old woman gave her a smile. "No one suspects a woman my age of anything. It makes me good at trading. Here." She offered Isabelle a cracked porcelain mug full of steaming black coffee. Real coffee. Isabelle wrapped her hands around the mug and breathed deeply of the familiar, never-again-to-be-taken-for-granted aroma. Madame — Kristin Hannah

Fingers of wind combed the lake into ridges - icy palm prints glistened wherever it rested — John Geddes

I wish I was a smoker," Haven said with a brittle laugh, walking around the apartment with jittery energy. "This is one of those times when chain-smoking seems appropriate."
"Oh, no you don't," Hardy murmured, reaching out to catch her wrist. "You got enough bad habits already, honey." He drew her between his thighs as he leaned against the sofa, and she nestled against him.
"Including you," she said, her voice muffled. "You're my worst habit."
"That's right." He combed his fingers through her dark curls, and kissed her head. "And there's no getting over me."
-Haven & Hardy — Lisa Kleypas

Because with Charlie, nothing was ever easy. Everything was windswept and octagonal and finger-combed. Everything was difficult and odd, and the theme songs all had minor chords. — A.S. King

Silver gray hair Neatly combed in place There were four generations Of love on her face She was so wise No surprise passed her eyes She's seen it all — Dianne Reeves

The King with half the East at heel is marched from lands of morning;
Their fighters drink the rivers up, their shafts benight the air.
And he that stands will die for nought, and home there's no returning.
The Spartans on the sea-wet rock sat down and combed their hair. — A.E. Housman

Myron headed down the steps. Without warning a man wearing a blue blazer and aviator sunglasses stepped in front of him. He was a big guy - six-four, two-twenty - just about Myron's size. His neatly combed hair sat above a pleasant though unyielding face. He expanded his chest into a paddleball wall, blocking Myron's path. His voice said, "Can I help you, sir?" But his tone said, Take a hike, bub. Myron looked at him. "Anyone ever tell you you look like Jack Lord?" No reaction. "You know," Myron said. "Jack Lord? Hawaii Five-O?" "I'll have to ask you to leave, sir. — Harlan Coben

He combed his hair like Elvis and had a slightly dangerous look, like a sailor two drinks into a shore leave that will end badly. — Stephen King

described the relatively low number of fatalities as a miracle.1 President Bill Clinton ordered his National Security Council to coordinate the response. Government agencies swung into action to find the culprits.The Counterterrorist Center located at the CIA combed its files and queried sources around the world. The National Security Agency (NSA), the huge Defense Department signals collection agency, ramped up its communications intercept network and searched its databases for clues.2 The New York Field Office of the FBI took control of the local investigation and, in the end, set a pattern for future management of terrorist incidents. Four features of this episode have significance for the story of 9/11. 71 — Anonymous

Though she knew she should probably be frightened at the sight, instead Mia took a deep breath, combed her fingers through her air, and stepped out of the alley, right into a slop pile of what she hoped was mud.*

* It was not mud. Alas. — Jay Kristoff

Vaudeville could not vouch for the honesty, the integrity, or the mentality of the individuals who collectively made up the horde the medium embraced. All the human race demands of its members is that they be born. That is all vaudeville demanded. You just had to be born. You could be ignorant and be a star. You could be a moron and be wealthy. The elements that went to make up vaudeville were combed from the jungles, the four corners of the world, the intelligentsia and the subnormal. — Fred Allen

Jonas went and sat beside them while his father untied Lily's hair ribbons and combed her hair. He placed one hand on each of their shoulders. With all of his being he tried to give each of them a piece of the memory: not of the tortured cry of the elephant, of their towering, immense creature and the meticulous touch with which it had tended its friend at the end.
But his father had continued to comb Lily's long hair, and Lily, impatient, had finally wriggled under her brother's touch. "Jonas," she said, "you're hurting me with your hand. — Lois Lowry

Srebrenica was officially 'protected' not just by UN mandate but by a 400-strong peacekeeping contingent of armed Dutch soldiers. But when Mladic's men arrived the Dutch battalion laid down its arms and offered no resistance whatsoever as Serbian troops combed the Muslim community, systematically separating men and boys from the rest. The next day, after Mladic had given his 'word of honor as an officer' that the men would not be harmed, his soldiers marched the Muslim males, including boys as young as thirteen, out into the fields around Srebrenica. In the course of the next four days nearly all of them - 7,400 - were killed. The Dutch soldiers returned safely home to Holland. — Tony Judt

Nico's hair was combed straight up, stiff with mousse, the tips dyed the color of traffic cones. — Frederick Weisel

There was precious little nobility in the features of the High King's fleshy face. Like his body, his face was broad and heavy, with a wide stub of a nose, a thick brow, and deep-set eyes that seemed to look out at the world with suspicion and resentment. His hair and beard were just beginning to turn grey, but they were well combed and glistening with fresh oil perfumed ... heavily ... He was broad of shoulder and body, built like a squat turret, round and thick from neck to hips. He wore a sleeveless coat of gilded chain mail over his tunic ... Over the mail was a harness of gleaming leather, with silver buckles and ornaments. A jewelled sword hung at his side. His sandals had gold tassels on their thongs. — Ben Bova

Through the station went a goods train, spitting sparks from its chimney. Viktoria stood at the window and combed those sparks out of her hair. — Bohumil Hrabal

Everything was windswept and octagonal and finger-combed. — A.S. King

You ever feel like home is the one place you can't go back to? It's like you promise yourself when you got out of bed and combed your hair that this evening, when I get back I'll be a different woman in a new place. And now you can't go back because the house expects something from you. — Marlon James

My entire life had been this long, pressured conversation about the family I represented. 'When you walk out the door, you represent us. You have to dress well and make sure your hair is combed.' — Armie Hammer

The streams buck like rams in a tent / whips crack and from the hills come the crookedly combed /shadows of the shepherds. /black eggs and fools' bells fall from the trees. / thunder drums and kettledrums beat upon the ears of the donkeys. / wings brush against flowers. / fountains spring up in the eyes of the wild boar. — Hans Arp

[Lena] "This is crazy, you know. How can you know me well enough to love me?"
"Lena." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know what I need to know. I know that your laugh makes me want to smile, and I know that when you're sad, it bothers me. I know I love to watch you, I know you blush when you realize I've been staring at you, even though it makes you smile, too."
He combed a hand through her hair, angled her head, and brushed her mouth with his. "I may not know everything there is to know about you, Lena, but I do know I'd like to spend my life learning the things I don't know. — Shiloh Walker