Hair Heads Quotes & Sayings

I think there's a certain limit to the number of times you can raise hairs on the back of peoples' heads before it gets kind of saccharin. — Mat McNerney

The daily work you put into rearing your children is a kind of intimacy, tedious and invisible as mothering itself. There is another kind of intimacy in the conversations you may have with your children as they grow older, in which you confess to failings, reveal anxieties, share your bouts of creative struggle, regret, frustration. There is intimacy in your quarrels, your negotiations and running jokes. But above all, there is intimacy in your contact with their bodies, with their shit and piss, sweat and vomit, with their stubbled kneecaps and dimpled knuckles, with the rips in their underpants as you fold them, with their hair against your lips as you kiss the tops of their heads, with the bones of their shoulders and with the horror of their breath in the morning as they pursue the ancient art of forgetting to brush. Lucky me that I should be permitted the luxury of choosing to find the intimacy inherent in this work that is thrust upon so many women. Lucky me. — Michael Chabon

In high school Peggy Paula worked as a waiteress at the Perkins. Night shifts were her favorite, kids from her school would come in after games or dances with bleary eyes and messy hair and Peggy Paula knew they'd been drinking and smoking those flimsy joints she'd see them passing, the girls with smudged makeup and rat's nests in the back of their heads, proud unblinking eyes, scanning the dining room like I dare you, I dare you to guess what I just let Jared or Steve or Casey do to me, I let him and I liked it and I don't care. — Lindsay Hunter

Donnie Green himself had been a trader at Salomon Brothers in the dark ages, when traders had more hair on their chests than on their heads. — Michael Lewis

Here then is a sure resting-place for the heart. Our lives are neither the product of blind fate nor the result of capricious chance, but every detail of them was ordained from all eternity, and is now ordered by the living and reigning God. Not a hair of our heads can be touched without His permission. — Arthur W. Pink

I played with Barbies but I used to decapitate them. I used to take their heads off then dye their hair and do weird things. — Megan Fox

For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and wondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the wood
(she considered him to be a footman because he was in livery: otherwise, judging by his face only, she would have called him a fish)
and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery, with a round face, and large eyes like a frog; and both footmen, Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over their heads. She felt very curious to know what it was all about, and crept a little way out of the wood to listen. — Lewis Carroll

How can we not ask at every turn, 'What is going to happen? How will this turn out?' The main thing is not to consent consciously to anxiety or a troubled mind. The moment you realize you are worrying, make very quickly an act of confidence: 'No, Jesus, You are there: nothing--nothing--happens, not a hair falls from our heads, without Your permission. I have no right to worry." Perhaps He is sleeping in the boat, but He is there. He is always there. He is all-powerful; nothing escapes His vigilance. He watches over each one of us 'as over the apple of His eye.' He is all love, all tenderness. — Jean C.J. D'Elbee

A voice issued from the mirror ... "The characters read thus: 'Suldrun, sweet Suldrun, leave this room before harm arrives upon you!'"
Suldrun looked about her. "What would harm me?"
"Let the bottled imps clamp your hair or your fingers and you will learn the meaning of harm."
The two heads spoke at the same time: "What a wicked remark! We are as faithful as doves." "Oh! It is bitter to be maligned, when we cannot seek redress for the wrong! — Jack Vance

There are persons who always find a hair in their plate of soup for the simple reason that, when they sit down before it, they shake their heads until one falls in. — Christian Friedrich Hebbel

These boys ride the gales in rapture at their own glory. But every now and then, a true storm rises. It shatters their masts and rips the hair from their heads. They do not last long till the sea swallows them whole. But their mothers have wept their deaths long before, as I wept for yours the first day we met." He — Pierce Brown

As Vivi drove, it seemed that not only the Ya-Ya's bodies but the earth and sky were sweating. The very air they breathed was almost a juice. Moonlight spilled down into the convertible, onto the four friends' shoulders and knees and on the tops of their heads, so that their hair seemed to have little sparks shooting off it. Vivi had no idea at all where she was headed, but she knew that whatever direction she went, her friends would go with her. — Rebecca Wells

For the record, I tried to stop this," I said grimly. Then I turned my attention back to Ian.
The afternoon sun gave his copper-hued hair golden highlights and he made sure that the hard lines of his chest and abdomen were on full display as his pace kept his shirt billowing behind him. Grudgingly, I had to admit that several heads turned, and more than a few cars slowed down as female drivers gave him a second, third and fourth look. Ian responded by flashing them a dazzling smile, making him appear almost angelic to anyone who didn't know that he was a conscienceless slut. — Jeaniene Frost

This little thing"-he made a triangle in the air, pointing between Kopano, Kaidan, and me-"isn't gonna fly. Don't worry yourselves about Anna anymore. You hear?" They both gave single nods. "Then get on out of here. And keep your heads in the game."
[ ... ]
Before my father could apologize or give me another sad look, I wrapped my arms around him ...
He ran a hand down my hair. "Does she (Patti) know about those two boys fighting over you?"
"They weren't fighting over me ... — Wendy Higgins

Riding down the unhorsed Saxons and spearing and clubbing them and leaping from their mounts with knives and running about on the ground with a peculiar bandylegged trot like creatures driven to alien forms of locomotion and stripping the clothes from the dead and seizing them up by the hair and passing their blades about the skulls of the living and the dead alike and snatching aloft the bloody wigs and hacking and chopping at the naked bodies, ripping off limbs, heads, gutting the strange white torsos and holding up great handfuls of viscera, genitals, some of the savages so slathered up with gore they might have rolled in it like dogs and some who fell upon the dying and sodomized them with loud cries to their fellows. — Cormac McCarthy

Grandma Harper has two green bottles shaped like women with black hair painted on their heads and a yellow glass colored captain's hat that she keeps her face powder in that I want too, and a picture of a naked girl in a swing, swinging way up in the air over castles in a blue sky.
I don't know why I want those things, I just do. — Fannie Flagg

While I am alive, not a hair on Jewish heads will be touched. — Habib Bourguiba

There is a picture of me in their heads, a picture of someone I don't know yet. She is not the chubby girl with the braces and bad perm. She is not the girl hiding in the bathroom at recess. She is someone new, a blank slate they have named beautiful. That is what I am now: beautiful, with this new body and face and hair and clothes. Beautiful, with this erasing of history. — Amy Reed

But if we do not dream, then I think perhaps we are misusing our heads. They are not on our shoulders only to be farms for hair. — Brian Doyle

Heads in the Women's Ward
On pillow after pillow lies
The wild white hair and staring eyes;
Jaws stand open; necks are stretched
With every tendon sharply sketched;
A bearded mouth talks silently
To someone no one else can see.
Sixty years ago they smiled
At lover, husband, first-born child.
Smiles are for youth. For old age come
Death's terror and delirium. — Philip Larkin

Ronan and Seth knew how sad I was when they said I wasn't gonna have any hair for a while, so look." The image teetered for a moment and when it came back into focus, I slapped my hand over my mouth in disbelief. Because there on the bed next to my son sat Ronan and Seth, their heads completely bald. "Hi! — Sloane Kennedy

What the Republicans have said is rather than touch one hair on the heads of the wealthiest people in our country, people who make over $1 million a year, they're saying, 'Seniors should pay $6,000 more dollars a year. But please don't let us ask the wealthiest to do their fair share.' — Nancy Pelosi

She's tired and leans her head on his shoulder, which is the resting place for all their heads, but when Justine and Siobhan and Francesca use his body so shamelessly he doesn't feel the need to turn his head and press his mouth against their hair. — Melina Marchetta

She couldn't have been more than twelve years old. In her hands was a sign that said RED-HEADS RULE! with a little crown painted in the corner and tiny stars everywhere. I knew I was the only redhead in the competition, and I noticed that her hair and mine were very nearly the same shade. — Kiera Cass

It was an odd situation. For a century and a half, men got rid of their own hair, which was perfectly comfortable, and instead covered their heads with something foreign and uncomfortable. Very often it was actually their own hair made into a wig. People who couldn't afford wigs tried to make their hair look like a wig. — Bill Bryson

I felt as if the Milky Way, hovering above our heads like a celestial pitcher, had suddenly overturned, pouring suns and planets down my throat. Stars seemed to be shooting out of my finger and toes, the ends of my hair. — Meg Cabot

Anyhow, it is a definite colour: I am glad I have red hair. There is it is in the mirror, it makes itself seen, it shines. I am still lucky if my forehead was surmounted by one of those neutral heads of hair which are neither chestnut not blond, my face would be lost in vagueness, it would make me dizzy. — Jean-Paul Sartre

With his height, Caleb looked over their heads toward his cousin and ... his throat tightened. There in a yellow dress that emphasized the elegant line of her shoulders and a new hair cut that accentuated the shape of her face stood the most exquisite girl to have ever graced the Dodge Cove elite with her presence. — Kate Evangelista

Our favorite film is Vertigo. Amy Eleni and I must watch it seventeen or eighteen times a year, and with each viewing our raptness grows looser and looser; we don't need the visuals anymore
one or the other of us can go into the kitchen halfway through and call out the dialogue while making up two cups of Horlicks. From the minute you see empty, beautiful, blond Madeleine Elster, you know she is doomed because she exists in a way that Scottie, the male lead, just doesn't. You know that Madeleine is in big trouble, because she's a vast wound in a landscape where wounds aren't allowed to stay open
people have to shut up and heal up. She's in trouble because the film works to a plan that makes trauma speak itself out, speak itself to excess until it dies; this film at the peak of its slyness, when people sweat and lick their lips excessively and pound their chests and grab their hair and twist their heads from side to side, performing this unspeakable torment. — Helen Oyeyemi

She pulls a spare head from beneath a pile of shoes and raises it by the hair. It looks like one of those cheap, blue heads that botwhores keep for lonely sci-fi freaks who want to pretend they're fucking the queen of Xenon. — Judd Trichter

I sha'n't let my prisoners go as easily as all that!' she said. 'Make my hair grow as thick and as black as yours, or else your husbands shall never see daylight again.' 'That is quite simple,' replied the elder sister; 'only you must do as we did - and perhaps you won't like the treatment.' 'If you can bear it, of course I can,' answered the witch. And so the girls told her they had first smeared their heads with pitch and then laid hot stones upon them. 'It is very painful,' said they, 'but there is no other way that we know of. And in order to make sure that all will go right, one of us will hold you down while the other pours on the pitch.' And so they did; and the elder sister let down her hair till it hung over the witch's eyes, so that she might believe it was her own hair growing. Then the other brought a huge stone, and, in short, there was an end of the witch. The sisters were savages who had never seen a missionary. — Andrew Lang

People run away, pull their hair, go off in different directions, nodding their heads and going, "Oh, God." I am slightly disheveled, I think. I'm really pleased that I am, because otherwise I could be in a really, really dull and boring place now, as a musician, at least. — Robert Plant

Girls are small and polite and smiley. They wear dresses and their hair is long and it's pulled into shapes behind their heads or on either side. — Patrick Ness

The walls would have shamed any proper castle, and the ornamental iron spikes along the top looked strangely naked without heads to adorn them. Tyrion pictured how his sister's head might look up there, with tar in her golden hair and flies buzzing in and out of her mouth. Yes, and Jaime must have the spike beside her, he decided. No one must ever come between my brother and my sister. — George R R Martin

I've missed you so much."
Daniel chuckled. "I've missed you, too, these past ... three hours. Are-are you all right?"
Luce ran her fingers through Daniel's silky blond hair. "I just needed to get some air,to find you." She squeezed hi tightly.
Daniel narrowed his eyes. "I don't think we should be out here,Lys. They must be expecting you back in the receiving room."
"I don't care.I won't go back in there. And I would never marry that pig. I will never marry anyone but you."
"Shhh." Daniel winced,stroking her cheek. "Someone might hear you. They've cut off heads for less than that. — Lauren Kate

Each day when the train stopped, we'd lean out of the car and try to count the number of bodies thrown. It grew every day. I noticed Jonas kept track of the children, making marks with a stone on the floor board of the car. I looked at his marks and imagined drawing little heads atop each one - hair, eyes, a nose, and a mouth. — Ruta Sepetys

Love is like this small room where a child brings you to show you all their treasures. First the child shows you all the new toys that are bright and shiny and top of the line. But then she shows you all the stuff that has ended up at the bottom of the trunk. There are dolls with eyes that wobble, hair that is falling out of their heads, and dirt behind their ears. Their fingertips have been chewed off by dogs and they have been drawn on with ballpoint pen. It has been so long since they have been held or anyone has told them that they are lovely. They lie at the bottom of the toy chest, hidden and ashamed. You are either going to be disgusted by them, or you are going to be so filled with love for them that your heart almost breaks.
I took his hand in mine. — Heather O'Neill

She's wearing her hair in a bun, like a ballerina's. Buns are so sexy. They used to be a treat to take apart: it was like opening a gift. Heads with the hair pulled back into buns are so elegant and confined, so maidenish; then the undoing, the dishevelment, the wildness of the freed hair, spilling down the shoulders, over the breasts, over the pillow. He enumerates in his head: Buns I have known. — Margaret Atwood

Echo's breathing hitches when I slide my thumb along a smaller scar. She likes that spot. I've memorized it. A centimeter below the crook of her elbow. Her skin is sensitive there, and when I kiss it, Echo normally falls apart and nearly shatters.
I gently press my lips behind her ear, and Echo nudges closer to me. "Why, Echo?"
"Because."
I nip at her earlobe, and she shivers. "Because why?"
Her shoulder moves under my body. A half shrug maybe. "It makes me feel better."
Fuck that. "Why?"
A kiss on her neck. A long one. A lingering one. God damn, Echo tastes so good. Her skin is soft and tempting. But I want answers.
"Because sometimes I want to blend in."
I raise my head and stare straight into her eyes, spotting the plain honesty. What she doesn't understand is that she could never blend in. Blazing red hair. Bright emerald eyes. The most beautiful girl in the world. She'd turn heads regardless of a sweater. — Katie McGarry

I'm speaking from personal experience when I say of any black man who conks today, or any white-wigged black woman, that if they gave the brains in their heads just half as much attention as they do their hair, they would be a thousand times better off. — Malcolm X

When the media worries about what Hillary's hair looks like or what my hair looks like, that's a real problem. We have millions of people who are struggling to keep their heads above water, who want to know what candidates can do to improve their lives, and the media will very often spend more time worrying about hair than the fact that we're the only major country on earth that doesn't guarantee health care to all people. — Bernie Sanders

[S]ome score of members of the High Court of Chancery bar ought to be
as here they are
mistily engaged in one of the ten thousand stages of an endless cause, tripping one another up on slippery precedents, groping knee-deep in technicalities, running their goat-hair and horse-hair warded heads against walls of words, and making a pretence of equity with serious faces ... — Charles Dickens

THE TWINS WERE eighteen months old now, walking (and standing and staring and screaming and sitting) just like other children more or less their age, and Andy found herself increasingly preoccupied with those baby scrapbooks her brother's wife had sent when they were born. Andy had gotten Janny's to the six-month mark - the last photo was of her sitting up in the baby bath with her fingers in her mouth. Richie's and Michael's - not even birth pictures. Birth pictures of the twins existed, but they reminded Andy more of mug shots than of baby photos, naked in incubators, little skinny limbs and odd heads, no hair except where it shouldn't be, on arms and back, like monkeys. She had stuffed the scrapbooks onto the upper shelf in the closet in Richie and Michael's room, and every time she slid open that door, she would see their spines, white, pink, and blue, the silliest objects in her very modern house, ready to get thrown out. — Jane Smiley

Broad-shouldered, with skin of the desert and eyes of silver and ash, he was the kind of boy who turned heads and never noticed. The faint shadow of hair that darkened his jaw served only to accentuate features hewn from stone by the hand of a master sculptor. — Renee Ahdieh

Mostly, though, he looked at the girl, with her red hair and bare white arms. There was something about the whiteness of those arms that made them seem more naked than the bare arms of other women in church. A lot of red heads had freckles, but she looked as if she had been carved from a block of soap ... She was very pretty, about his age, her hair braided into a silky rope the colour of black cherries. She was fingering a delicate gold cross around her throat, and she turned it just so, into the sunlight, and it shone, became a cruciform flame. She lingered on the gesture, making it a kind of confession, then turned the cross away. — Joe Hill

Liu pulled her behind him; a spooky beast ran towards them. It was enormous and had the body of a tiger and nine heads with human like faces; its body covered by a green and blue hair. "Kaiming. — Cyci Cade

The men and women cut their hair close round to the ears and eyes. The women, after the manner of the Parthians, cover their heads with a large white veil, folded together in the form of a crown. — Giraldus Cambrensis

My Barbies were usually naked. Once, I took their heads off, cut their hair, drew on their short, spiky hair with some markers, then stuck the heads on Christmas lights. Every year, we'd string our tree with those Barbie heads. It looked demonic. My parents were so cool - they saw it as a form of self-expression. — Jessica Biel

I have scars on my hand from touching certain people. Once, in the park, when Frannie was still in the carriage, I put my hand on the downy pate of her head and left it there too long. Another time, at Loew's Seventy-second Street, with Zooey during a spooky movie. He was about six or seven, and he went under the seat to avoid watching a scary scene. I put my hand on his head. Certain heads, certain colors and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me. Other things, too. Charlotte once ran away from me, outside the studio, and I grabbed her dress to stop her, to keep her near me. A yellow cotton dress I loved because it was too long for her. I still have a lemon-yellow mark on the palm of my right hand. — J.D. Salinger

Miss Tox left her seat in a hurry, and returned to her plants; clipping among the stems and leaves, with as little favour as a barber working at so many pauper heads of hair. — Charles Dickens

Temptations, of course, cannot be avoided, but because we cannot prevent the birds from flying over our heads, there is no need that we should let them nest in our hair. — Martin Luther

We shrink from the contemplation of our dead bodies, forgetting that when dead they are no longer ours, and concern us as little as the hairs that have fallen from our heads. — John Lancaster Spalding

We spent afternoons kicking around in the sand, picking through the seaweed for shells, making headdresses of washed-up fishing ropes and hats from Styrofoam cups. Beach rats, we were called.

We stopped brushing our hair, and it hung in tangles spun by the salt air. We sprayed Sun-In across our heads and let it turn our hair orange in patches. Our skin peeled, and we didn't much care.

We woke up to the feel of sand in our sheets. We covered ourselves in baby oil and iodine and let the sun bake our skin. We smelled like Love's Baby Soft perfume, like summer all year long. We were tanned, with freckles across our noses. — Ilie Ruby

This modern craze for putting the young in positions of authority - headmasters in their thirties, bishops without a gray hair on their heads, generals who scarcely need to use a razor - ever since it took hold the world's gone steadily downhill. — Elizabeth Goudge

I have scars on my hands from touching certain people ... Certain heads, certain colours and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me. — J.D. Salinger

They began work at 5:30 and quit at 7 at night. Children six years old going home to lie on a straw pallet until time to resume work the next morning! I have seen the hair torn out of their heads by the machinery, their scalps torn off, and yet not a single tear was shed, while the poodle dogs were loved and caressed and carried to the seashore. — Mary Harris Jones

For many thousands of years people had looked at expensive heads of hair and thought of how much food and warmth they represented, so obviously it was a thought of no use at all, so why bother to have it? But thoughts of this sort did go ticking on, useless or not. — Doris Lessing

I remember there was actually a sexual thrill ... you hear that little pop and pull their heads of and hold their heads up by the hair. Whipping their heads off, their body sitting there. That'd get me off. — Edmund Kemper

She didn't need to say that she was going to die sooner or later while he wasn't, because the fact hung over their heads like the sword of Damocles that dangled by a single hair. — Thea Harrison

The drums staggered toward the distant street. Moving away from us, the dancers romped and rolled on the rhythm, their swaying heads like a field of wildflowers weaving back and forth on waves of wind. As the music dwindled to an echo in our minds, the day-to-day and minute-to-minute of slum life slowly reclaimed the lanes. We gave ourselves to our routines, our needs, and our harmless, hopeful scheming. And for a while, a little while, ours was a better world because the hearts and smiles that ruled it were almost as pure and clean as the flower petals fluttering from our hair, and clinging to our faces like still, white tears. — Gregory David Roberts

Barbershop conversations are irrefutable proof that heads exist for the sake of hair. — Karl Kraus

This is sad. I just think it's a little ridiculous we are still only looking at the surface of one another. Red hair? Blue hair? Pink? Blonde? Short? Long? Whatever. We might as well shave our heads. Hair has nothing to do with the reason we playing music. It's a style. Something that will never last as long as the songs we play and the words we sing. Listen up ladies in bands, I'm so proud to be one of you and I don't care if we all look exactly alike or if we are all carbon copies of each other. We have things to say and it's up to us to get people to not just look but to LISTEN! — Hayley Williams

I do not think it irresponsible to portray even the direst futures if we are to avoid them we must understand that they are possible. But where are the alternatives Where are the dreams that motivate and inspire We long for realistic maps of a world we can be proud to give to our children. Where are the cartographers of human purpose Where are the visions of hopeful futures of technology as a tool for human betterment and not a gun on hair trigger pointed at our heads — Carl Sagan

When you work behind the ropes, you know the heartbreaking stories behind their smiles; you see the pins and nauseating amount of hair products that glaze their heads; and you see the wedges (even flats) under their eternally beaded gowns. — Kath C. Eustaquio-Derla

Although skin color is undoubtedly the most salient signal of racial identity in America, other actual or imagined bodily features have also been seen as distinctive markers of Negritude. These include the shapes of heads, feet, lips, and noses as well as the texture of hair. — Randall Kennedy

Babies haven't any hair; Old men's heads are just as bare; between the cradle and the grave lie a haircut and a shave. — Samuel Hoffenstein

I do wonder why people hate their grey hair so much! I think grey hair is a gift from the moon! When the moon laughs, her eyes produce tears of joy that fall to the earth and onto the tops of people's heads! — C. JoyBell C.

I stayed against the back wall, as far away as I could get. Not just to stay away from the Plague Lady but to be farther away from the weird old dolls that lined the shelves of her office. Real-looking hair sprouted from their crumbling heads and all their faces were painted with smiles. Kids in the old days must have loved nightmares or something. — Scott Westerfeld

Aye, Rob, but we canna help noticin' ye also have tae do the Explainin', too,' said Daft Wullie.
There was a general nodding from the crowd. To Feegles, Explaining was a dark art. It was just so HARD.
'Like, when we come back from drinkin', stealin', and fightin', Jeannie gives ye the Pursin' o' the Lips,' Daft Wullie went on.
A moan went up from all the Feegles: 'Ooooh, save us from the Pursin' o' the Lips!'
'An' there's the Foldin' o' the Arms,' said Wullie, because he was even scaring himself.
'Oooooh, waily, waily, waily, the Foldin' o' the Arms!' the Feegles cried, tearing at their hair.
'Not tae mention the Tappin' o' the Feets ... ' Wullie stopped, not wanting to mention the Tappin' o' the Feets.
'Aargh! Oooooh! No' the Tappin' o' the Feets!' Some of the Feegles started to bang their heads on trees. — Terry Pratchett

There are some styles I do not want to take credit for and usually these hairstyles are on the heads of customers who are only too happy to spread the word. — Marlin Bressi

I was ten when the Taliban came to our valley. Moniba and I had been reading the Twilight books and longed to be vampires. It seemed to us that the Taliban arrived in the night just like vampires ... These were strange-looking men with long straggly hair and beards and camouflage vests over their shalwar kamiz, which they wore with the trousers well above the ankle. They had jogging shoes or cheap plastic sandals on their feet, and sometimes stockings over their heads with holes for their eyes, and they blew their noses dirtily into the ends of their turbans ... — Malala Yousafzai

In appearance the locusts were like horses equipped for battle. On their heads were what looked like crowns of gold; their faces were like human faces, 8 their hair like women's hair, and their teeth like lions' teeth; — Anonymous

Horace, hands on hips, paced around the circle, frowning as he studied them. They were a scruffy bunch, he thought, and none too clean. Their hair and beards were overlong and often gathered in rough and greasy plaits, like Nils's. There were scars and broken noses and cauliflower ears in abundance, as well as the widest assortment of rough tattoos, most of which looked as if they had been carved into the skin with the point of a dagger, after which dye was rubbed into the cut. There were grinning skulls, snakes, wolf heads and strange northern runes. All of the men were burly and thickset. Most had bellies on them that suggested they might be overfond of ale. All in all they were as untidy, rank smelling and rough tongued a bunch of pirates as one could be unlucky enough to run into. Horace turned to Will and his frown faded. 'They're beautiful,' he said. — John Flanagan

Did you see him? I know the photo was grainy, but he looks like one of those death metal goth heads, or whatever they're called. All dressed in black with long hair
I took umbrage at my mother describing my boyfriend this way. John was the Lord of the Underworld. How else was he supposed to dress? — Meg Cabot