Me Hair Care Quotes & Sayings

I locate the ladies' room. Luckily, it's empty, no one to see the vacant-eyed girl, staring in the mirror. Staring at a stranger who doesn't care if she dies. Maybe she wants to die. Who would care if I died? My face is hollow-cheeked, spiced with sores
the places where I stab at bugs. Tiny bugs, almost invisible, but irritating. Usually they come out at night, when I'm lying there, begging for sleep. I've been meaning to tell the manager that the apartment needs to be sprayed. Sprayed. Steam cleaned. Deodorized. My hair looks odd too. It used to be darker. Shinier. Prettier. Can hair lose color when you're only eighteen? What if I go all the way gray? Will Trey still love me? Will anyone? That is, if I fool them all and don't die. — Ellen Hopkins

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

What Jessica said - hair much shorter, wearing a darker mouth of different outline, harder lipstick, her typewriter banking in a phalanx of letters between them - was: "We're going to be married. We're trying very hard to have a baby."
All at once there is nothing but his asshole between Gravity and Roger. "I don't care. Have his baby. I'll love you both - just come with me Jess, please ... I need you ... "
She flips a red lever on her intercom. Far away a buzzer goes off. "Security." Her voice is perfectly hard, the word still clap-echoing in the air as in through the screen door of the Quonset office wth a smell of tide flats come the coppers, looking grim. Security. Her magic word, her spell against demons. — Thomas Pynchon

Tighten your grip, make me bleed, it's a hunger I need to feed. Strip me bare, pull my hair, I don't care just take me there. — Pepper Winters

Ella. Look at me." Her head tossed. Her fingernails dug into his forearms. But he didn't care. Sliding the fingers of his other hand into her hair, he forced her to face him. "Only you," he whispered when their eyes met. "You're it for me."
~ Tate — Elisabeth Naughton

I don't care what color your hair is, if you're pale or tan, if you have makeup on or just woke up all I care about is that when I look at you, you always look back and see me. You're beautiful inside and out and if you wanted to tattoo all that pretty white skin from head to toe I would be honored to put it there for you but if not I'll take you all smooth and milky white any chance I get. — Jay Crownover

Me own mam saw things," he said, looking at the fire as if she might be there behind it. "And they always came true. She didn't say anything about spirits. She just called it the Second Sight. Said it was hereditary and dangerous sometimes,if you didn't take care."
"Do you have it? Do you see things?"
He shook his head.
"Colin." If he thought I was going to be fobbed off with a vague reply, the day's events had clearly addled his wits. He had to know I had no intention of letting this lie.
"She told me about a girl with violet eyes," he said quietly, rising to his feet.
I looked up at him, startled. "She did?"
"Aye." He nodded. "I should go." He stalked toward the door, opening it slightly to make sure the hallway was deserted. His hair was still damp, tousled. I couldn't help but remember the weight of his body pressing me into the grass.
"Colin?" I said quietly.
"I have to go." He didn't turn around.
The door closed behind him. — Alyxandra Harvey

Do you want children?"

His eyes slid to me as he grabbed a menu.

He answered cautiously, "Yeah."

"How many?"

He turned to me and his arm went around the back of my chair.

"Three."

I thought about three children. They weren't pleasant thoughts.

"And you?" Lee asked, gently tugging my hair.

"Hmm?"

"Kids?"

"I can't even take care of my yard," I reminded him.

He smiled The Smile and I immediately decided I'd like three kids a whole lot. — Kristen Ashley

Thank you, Noah," I whispered."For what?" He said into my hair."For taking care of me. — Alison G. Bailey

I am fat with love! Husky with ardor! Morbidly obese with devotion! A happy, busy bumblebee of marital enthusiasm. I positively hum around him, fussing and fixing. I have become a strange thing. I have become a wife. I find myself steering the ship of conversations- bulkily, unnaturally- just so I can say his name aloud. I have become a wife, I have become a bore, I have been asked to forfeit my Independent Young Feminist card. I don't care. I balance his checkbook, I trim his hair. I've gotten so retro, at one point I will probably use the word pocketbook, shuffling out the door in my swingy tweed coat, my lips red, on the way to the beauty parlor. Nothing bothers me. Everything seems like it will turn out fine, every bother transformed into an amusing story to be told over dinner. 'So I killed a hobo today, honey ... hahahaha! Ah, we have fun — Gillian Flynn

Hana?" Lena says softly. "Are you okay?"
That single stupid question breaks me. All the metal fingers relax me at once, and the tears they've been holding back come surging up at once. Suddenly I am sobbing and telling her everything: about the raid, and the dogs, and the sounds of skulls cracking underneath regulator's nightsticks. Thinking about it again makes me feel like I might puke. At a certain point, Lena puts her arms around me and starts murmuring things into my hair. I don't even know what she's saying, and I don't care. JUst having her here - solid, real, on my side - makes me feel better than I have in weeks. Slowly I manage to stop crying, swallowing back the hiccups and sobs that are still running through me. I try to tell her that I've missed her, and that I've been stupid and wrong, but my voice is muffled and thick — Lauren Oliver

I carried with me into the West End Bar, the White Horse Tavern, a long list of things I would never do: I would never have my hair set in a beauty parlor. I would never move to a suburb and bake cakes or make casseroles. I would never go to a country club dance, although I did like the paper lanterns casting rainbow colors on the terrace. I would never invest in the stock market. I would never play canasta. I would never wear pearls. I would love like a nursling but I would never go near a man who had a portfolio or a set of golf clubs or a business or even a business suit. I would only love a wild thing. I didn't care if wild things tended to break hearts. I didn't care if they substituted scotch for breakfast cereal. I understood that wild things wrote suicide notes to the gods and were apt to show up three hours later than promised. I understood that art was long and life was short. — Anne Roiphe

You like the way I dress The way I wear my hair Show me off to all your friends Baby, I don't care Just as long as you tell them who I am Tell them I'm the one that made you give a damn — Jennifer Lopez

When I am dead, and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain drenched hair,
Tho you should lean above me broken hearted,
I shall not care.
For I shall have peace.
As leafey trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough.
And I shall be more silent and cold hearted
Than you are now — Sara Teasdale

Tiko has taught me, a sometimes headstrong and often ferociously independent woman, the importance of interdependence, the importance of taking care, and the importance of being cared for. It's a necessary part of being human and being connected to the world around us that we realize and acknowledge our vulnerability and the vulnerability of all creatures, and that we act in accord with that knowledge. It is critical that we allow the empathetic and altruistic part of ourselves to be the guiding force behind the way that we conduct our lives, whether we give to those less fortunate than ourselves, take care of the magnificent creatures that share our world, work tirelessly to preserve native habitat or separate each strand of an unruly mass of hair so gently that we do not wake our loved one as she sleeps. — Joanna Burger

With all the care that women do and all the money we spend to maintain our hair, men can at least take the time to wash their face with a simple inexpensive product that will soften their facial hair so they're not hurting us when we go in for a kiss. Trust me, guys, women will want to kiss you more if you take care of your facial hair. — Adrianne Palicki

I remember the day I saw my hair was thinning. I don't remember caring much. I don't care. It's just hair. It never bothered me much. I was pretty young, too. And it happened and is happening very slowly. I have a feeling dead people get really mad when we complain about losing hair. — Louis C.K.

I can't promise you anything beyond this, Shannon. Hell, maybe nothing will happen. My body isn't like it used to be. But I can make sure you're taken care of." She gave him the sweetest, sexiest smile and looped her arms up around his neck. "John, I'm sure you'll take care of me. I have no doubt. And don't worry about promises. I'm here, number one, because I am your friend. I want the best for you. If I can help you over this hurdle, so to speak, I will." His throat tightened with emotion, and his eyes burned. He buried his face in her hair to keep her from seeing. He had to clear his throat several times before he could talk though. "Thank you, Shannon. We're friends with benefits, now, huh?" She giggled beneath him, and nipped his neck. "I guess so." He — J.M. Madden

Har. Bloody. Har."
He smiles. "Oh, I see. Known me less than a day and teasing me about my accent. What's next? Care to discuss the state of my hair? My height? My trousers?"
Trousers. Honestly. — Stephanie Perkins

All persons entering a heart do so at their own risk. Management can and will be held responsible for any loss, love, theft, ambition or personal injury. Please take care of your belongings. Please take care of the way you look at me. No roller skating, kissing, smoking, fingers through hair, 3 am phone calls, stained letters, littering, unfeeling feelings, a smell left on a pillow, doors slammed, lyrics whispered, or loitering. Thank you. — Pleasefindthis

He stared at my wet hair. "You been under that fucking waterfall again?"
"Not today." I didn't get why it bothered him so much, unless maybe the thought it set a bad example for Nicki. "Why do you care?"
He shrugged. "I don't. Knock your brains loose if you want." He blew out a huge cloud of smoke, which I thought was a pretty ironic thing to do while giving me a safety lecture. — Jennifer R. Hubbard

And David and Goliath I have done before, but this time there is a difference. David holds the head at arm's length and looks disgusted. And onto Goliath's severed head, I put my own features. The head hangs in darkness so that the black hair and beard framing the face blend off into the shadows, and there are four thin ropes of dark blood trailing down into space from the neck. And in one eye of the freshly severed head, there is still the faint glimmer of life.
That's me and that's the last painting I ever did.
Spectator, viewer, audience, however you care to call yourself; I address you here, with this, my final picture.
Cast a cold eye on it all, and on my work. I am still alive. — Christopher Peachment

One of my modeling bookers told me that the most important thing is to try to be vigilant about taking care of yourself. Get sleep, don't be afraid to trim your hair even if you're trying to grow it out, don't bite your fingernails, and stay in shape. A lot of it is in the little things. — Julia Jones

grabbing his massive throbbing cock with both hands. I licked around the head and down the shaft of his cock as if I were savoring a lollypop. He grabbed a handful of my long, blonde hair and used it as leverage to fuck my mouth. I took his cock so far down my throat, I nearly choked. I didn't care. It was what I had been wanting. I took his cock with my mouth until my gag reflex begged me to stop, but I didn't. I just let him fuck my mouth like it would be the last time any of us would ever fuck — Lilith Fox

Summerset, don't you ever sleep?"
"It's Lieutenant Dallas. She's
"
Roarke dropped his briefcase, grabbed Summerset by the lapels. "Has she been hurt? Where is she?"
"A nightmare. She was screaming." Summerset lost his usual composure and dragged a hand over his hair. "She won't cooperate. I was about to call your doctor. I left her in her private suite."
As Roarke pushed him aside, Summerset grabbed his arm. "Roarke, you should have told me what had been done to her."
Roarke merely shook his head and kept going. "I'll take care of her. — J.D. Robb

Why do you care what happens to her? I thought we humans were vapors to you, here today and gone tomorrow."
"Caspida is . . . different. She reminds me of someone, someone I'd give my life for if I could."
"The queen?" he asks. "The one who died?"
"Roshana. My dear Ro." My voice is soft as a ripple on the water. "She once ruled the Amulens, and Caspida is her descendant. She has Roshana's strength of spirit, and I cannot look at her without thinking of my old friend. If she were to come to harm on my account . . . I could not bear that through the centuries." I already carry a mountain of shame, a constant reminder of that day on Mount Tissia.
Aladdin lifts a hand and brushes the hair back from my face. "You truly are remarkable, Zahra of the Lamp. — Jessica Khoury

You still excite me after all this time, probably even more so now than in the beginning." My voice is a low threatening growl as the fingers on my free hand slide her panties over to reveal what I already know to be true; she is wet. "I love the way your body responds to me." I pull her from the wall and lead her to the fainting couch adorning the sitting area in my office. Brushing her hair back from her ear, I lean in and whisper, "Turn around, bend over, and put your hands on the end of the couch. I don't care what I do to you, those hands better not fucking move out of position. — Suzanne Steele

I thought that Uncle Julian was probably really very happy, with both Constance and Aunt Dorothy to take care of him, and I told myself that long thin things would remind me to be kinder to Uncle Julian; this was to be a day of long thin things, since there had already been a hair in my toothbrush, and a fragment of a string was caught on the side of my chair and I could see a splinter broken off the back step. — Shirley Jackson

But his hands are on my neck and in my hair and tracing my collarbone and it is wrong but it feels right, it feels like falling and I know the impact at the bottom will probably kill me, but I don't care anymore. — Kiersten White

The men in California are so sophisticated. I love how they're not above using all the antiaging products or doing their best to stay fit. It's not like here, where guys use a bar of soap and think they're suddenly Don Juan. You can see how it's hard for me to view this place as romantic and not backwoods.'
Julia stood. 'Not really. I prefer manly men. I don't care to share my hair product with a guy. I'm funny that way. — Colleen Coble

You mean," she breathed, "you're in love with me?"
I don't care what words anyone uses," he growled, stopping his pace to stand in front of her. "Use the words of all the languages you know. Or make some up. Doesn't matter. What matters is that I want to be with you forever. Only you. And I hope to God," he said his voice rough as he stroked her hair, her face, "that you only want me." There was no glib charm now, only the raw truthh of his heart, laid bare before her. — Zoe Archer

It's long past dark, and I don't see anyone walking tonight. Maybe Sundays are off-limits. Maybe my ninja girl even goes to bed and gives her swaying, beautiful hair a break. I wonder where she sneaks off to. I wonder, does she have a secret boyfriend or a favorite place? The ants say: What the hell are you doing to yourself? You'll never see her again. She lives two thousand miles away!
Then I think of Granddad and wonder why I dream about a man who is twelve thousand miles away. It makes me ask: Why do I care so much about people who are so far away from me? — A.S. King

Lynetta bared her wickedly sharp pointed canines and hissed. Her long black hair hung wildly to her hips, tangled and teased by the breeze. She was petite like me but as strong as a male body builder. Her grip on Dominic remained iron tight. Her soul-less black eyes, vacant and without a care, really ate away at my heart. I surveyed the yard for any kind of weapon I could use against the vampire. My heart surged when I spied a colorful whirligig attached to a wooden stake embedded in my mother's pampered pansy garden nearby. Without a second's hesitation, I dashed for it and yanked it out. Running at the vampire, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Death to the blood sucky vampire!" which gave me some courage. It wasn't every day I had to beat one vampire off of another when they didn't even really exist! — Terry Spear

I slip my hand behind her neck and fist her hair as I whisper in her ear. I do like the fight, but not tonight. Tonight you're mine. Tonight I own you. I get to take care of you. I get to make you feel things for the first time. Tonight I promise you perfection. So just give in, Ashleigh. Give yourself to me and let it happen. — J.A. Huss

I think about you all the time. I try to read, or brush my hair but all I think about is you. Sometimes I say your name over and over again, under my breath. No one can hear me, but I don't care. It just feels good to say it. — Nicky Silver

Well, what am I supposed to do?"
"Well, you can take a nap, read a little of my book, or close your eyes. Or you could stare
get the thrill of your life."
"She put her hands on her hips. "You really wouldn't care, would you?"
"Not really. A bath is a serious business when it's that much trouble. And it's pretty quick in winter." He started to chuckle.
"What's so funny?" she asked, a little irritated.
"I was just thinking. It's cold enough in here, you might not see that much."
Her cheeks went hot, so she pretended not to understand. "But in summer, you can lay in the tub all afternoon?"
"In summer, I wash in the creek." He grinned at her. "Why don't you comb the snarls out of your hair? You look like a wild banshee."
She stared at him a minute, then said, "Don't flirt with me. It won't do you any good."
-Marcie and Ian — Robyn Carr

Looks like we're about to get wet," I said, stating the obvious. He laughed. "I don't care." He grabbed me by the waist and turned, slipping me up so I was lying on the hood of the car, pinned there with his body. He ran his hands through my hair, spreading it. "So beautiful," he whispered. He crushed his mouth to mine, devouring it. — Lacey Weatherford

His other hand finds my cheek, and he wipes away my tears with his thumb. The chocolate scent overwhelms me as he bends over and whispers in my ear, "No, Cassie. No, no, no."
I throw my arm around his neck and press his dry cheek against my wet one. I'm shaking like an epileptic, and for the first time I can feel the weight of the quilts on the top of my toes because the blinding dark sharpens your other senses.
I'm a bubbling stew of random thoughts and feelings. I'm worried my hair might smell. I want some chocolate. This guy holding me - well, it's more like I was holding him - has seen me in all my naked glory. What did he think about my body? What did I think about my body? Does God really care about promises? Do I really care about God? Are miracles something like the Red Sea parting or more like Evan Walker finding me locked in a block of ice in a wilderness of white?
"Cassie, it's going to be okay," he whispers into my ear, chocolate breath. — Rick Yancey

You can choose, you can go one of two ways. You can be the person I probably admire more and say 'well I don't care and I'll continue not to bother to brush my hair.' Or you can be a weak-willed person like me and think 'oh I'd better get my act together. And maybe my mother was right and I do need to put my hair back and tidy myself up a bit.' So I did tidy myself up a bit. But I do often resent the amount of time that it takes to pull yourself together to go on TV, I really do. If I sound bitter, then that accurately reflects how I feel about the subject. — J.K. Rowling

It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair,
Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair.

Tell me not of your starry eyes,
Your lips that seem on roses fed,
Your breasts where Cupid trembling lies,
Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed.

...Give me, instead of beauty's bust,
A tender heart, a loyal mind,
Which with temptation I could trust,
Yet never linked with error find.

One in whose gentle bosom I
Could pour my secret heart of woes.
Like the care-burdened honey-fly
That hides his murmurs in the rose.

My earthly comforter! whose love
So indefeasible might be,
That when my spirit won above
Hers could not stay for sympathy. — George Darley

You're driving me crazy," I murmured, stroking her hair away from her face.
Her hand slid across the back of my shoulder and trailed down to my lower back.
I groaned. "You're gonna be hurting tomorrow, Rim."
"I don't care."
I smiled. "I know. But I do."
She made a face at me and I kissed her nose. Pulling back wasn't something I wanted to do, but her body needed a break. At least for an hour. — Cambria Hebert

You shouldn't be visiting the saloons by yourself," Connell said. She pulled off her knit cap. "I didn't hear you volunteering to come with me earlier." "If I'd known you were going to march around to all the saloons, I would have offered to tag along." Her curly hair tumbled down around her face and framed eyes that widened. "I have a hard time believing you'd tag along with anyone." "Next time try me." She hesitated and her eyes flickered as if she wanted to believe him but couldn't. "For your information, I've been searching the dregs all winter, and I've been taking care of myself just fine." Connell shook his head. "You're just asking for trouble." "I'm not afraid of trouble." "I can see that." He liked her spunk and her bravery. — Jody Hedlund

I was breaking down, wanting to fade away and cry, yet I feared ever being invisible again. My head lowered to conceal my humiliation behind a curtain of hair where I trembled as if sobbing.
"Hey, Gwen, it's okay. It's okay. Calm down."
I yearned to feel Daniel's soft touch meet my temple and then trace along my ear, brushing back the hairs from my face. What I wanted was the comfort his caress always afforded me. He moved as if he would grant my wish, realizing at the last moment that neither of us possessed the power to touch the other.
"Your hair, Gwen."
I refused to do what he wanted. I didn't care for him to see the shame plainly visible in my features. But the next thing I knew, his blue eyes were staring up at me from the ground, a glare reflecting off his glasses. The guy had dropped his books to fall over for a clear view of my face. His desperation made me laugh.
"It's going to be okay, Gwen, I promise."
- from "Phantom's Veil — Richelle E. Goodrich

I love you," she said. "You made me fall in love with you. I don't care how tall you are or what color your hair is-I care about you. You make me laugh. You're smart. You're gentle. And you're real, you're a real person, not some jock with a facade that's going to fall apart when I get to know him. I know you already, and I love you, you idiot. I don't care what you do with toilet paper. — L.J.Smith

Fix that hair! Close that mind! Repeat after me! Page me the second the old man croaks it! Now, are you boys ready? A Seabrook boy is always ready. Ready to work. Ready to play. Ready to listen to his teachers, especially the greatest educator of them all, Jesus. as Jesus said to me once, Greg, what's your secret? And I said, Jesus
study your notes! Get to class! Shave that beard! You show up to your first day on the job dressed like a hippie, of course they're going to crucify you, I don't care whose son you are ... — Paul Murray

You speak of sacrifice, but it is not my sacrifice I offer. It is yours I ask of you," he went on. "I can offer you my life, but it is a short life; I can offer you my heart, though I have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain. But I love you enough to hope that you wil not care that I am being selfish in trying to make the rest of my life - whatever length - happy, by spending it with you. I want to be married to you, Tessa. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything else in my life." He looked up at her through the veil of silvery hair that fell over his eyes. "That is," he said shyly, "if you love me, too. — Cassandra Clare

I'm honest enough to say that I dinna care what the right and wrong of it may be, so long as you're here wi' me, Claire," he said softly. "If it was a sin for you to choose me ... then I would go to the devil himself and bless him for tempting ye to it." He lifted my foot and gently kissed the tip of my big toe.
I laid my hand on his head; the short hair felt bristly but soft, like a very young hedgehog.
"I don't think it was wrong," I said softly. "But if it was ... then I'll go to the devil with you, Jamie Fraser. — Diana Gabaldon

Now it's my turn. I am going to birth myself. I am going to be a better mother to me than she ever was. I'm going to stay faithful and stand up for myself. I am going to do more than send me fifty bucks on my birthday, and if I ever call myself on the phone, I'm going to act like I care, just a little, because I'm aware that I might need it. I will comb my own hair gently and never make myself get into bathwater that's too hot. I am going to be the kind of mother who shows warmth. — A.S. King

You can easily find out her real name and address with your hacker skills, and I'll just pop out to Cleveland or wherever and kill her. That way she won't beat you anymore at your game. I'll let you choose whether I Own her or not, and how slowly and painfully you want her to die. I'll bring home a trophy for you to display so everyone will see how much I care for you." I looked around his place. "A garland with her teeth maybe, or her scalp if she has nice hair."
Wyatt made a kind of gurgling sound. "Sam. You're joking aren't you? In that weird way you do sometimes? You can't just kill her. I want to beat her at the game, not physically harm her person. I'll work on my technique and I'll win eventually."
Why would he want to do that? This idea was growing on me. What boyfriend wouldn't want a garland of teeth? — Debra Dunbar

Leo backed me against the door frame, his demeanor turning all 'take-no-prisoners' as he pinned me in place with his hips. His hands traced up and down the curve of my body until they wound their way through the loose strands of my hair. He was in control, I was totally at his mercy, and I. Didn't. Even. Care. — Sarah Darlington

She started out of the kitchen, then stopped and put her hand on my shoulder, bending down to kiss me gently on the forehead. She smelled like vanilla and Joy perfume, and suddenly I felt like I might start crying again. "You really scared me, Caitlin," she said, smiling as she brushed her fingers through my hair. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you." I could tell her, I told myself. I could tell her right now and fix this. I could say that he hits me and I hate cheerleading and I miss Cass but I know why she left and I wish I could make everything better but I can't, I can't, I can't even tell you where it hurts, not now. "Don't worry," I said instead, as she ruffled my hair and walked away, my mother, to do what she did best, to take care of me. "I'm fine. — Sarah Dessen

Make me feel at home, if you really care, scratch my back and run your pretty fingers through my hair. — Elvis Presley

As I've said before, "the Mod generation", contrary to popular belief, was not born in even 1958, but in the 1920s after a steady gestation from about 1917 or so. Now, Mod certainly came of age, fully sure of itself by 1958, completely misunderstood by 1963, and in a perpetual cycle of reinvention and rediscovery of itself by 1967 and 1975, respectively, but it was born in the 1920s, and I will maintain this. I don't care who disagrees with me, and there are dozens of reasons that I do so - from the Art Deco aesthetic, to flapper fashions (complete with bobbed hair), to androgyny and subtle effeminacy, to jazz. — Ruadhan J. McElroy

Hello, Halberstam," Owen says, walking by.
Hello, Owen," I say, admiring the way he's styled and slicked back his hair, with a part so even and sharp it ... devastates me and I make a mental note to ask him where he purchases his hair-care products, which kind of mousse he uses, my final guesses after mulling over the possibilities being Ten-X. — Bret Easton Ellis

She stands like she's trouble, and though her jagged haircut is trying too hard to tell me that she doesn't care what I think, the pugnacious set of her mouth tells me everything I need to know about why she got dropped out of all those schools. The hair is what tells me she needs help, all right, but her mouth tells me she doesn't need that much and she probably just needs time to work it out for herself. And I want, want, want to tell her not to sign the paperwork and to instead go out with me and live happily ever after in a tiny apartment in Baltimore because I always liked Baltimore and we could have two poodles, both shaved strangely to attract attention because I can see that's a big part of her, and pretty much eat take out spring rolls every night, because that's a big part of me. — Maggie Stiefvater

I have never thought you weren't good enough for me. The fear I always had, deep down in my heart, is that I'm not good enough for you."
Murmurs of astonishment rippled through the room but he didn't seem to notice.
"You see, I was never the one who could make you laugh." He glanced at Lawrence, then back at her.
"I was never the one who made coronets of rosebuds for your hair and told you that you were pretty."
He swallowed hard, and his chin lifted a notch, telling her as clearly as any word how difficult it was for him to reveal himself this way.
"I always wanted to say those things, do those things, but I couldn't, for a gentleman is not supposed to behave that way. A gentleman is not supposed to fall in love with the chef's daughter. But right now, today, I don't give a damn what gentlemen do. I'm just a man, and the only thing I care about is you. — Laura Lee Guhrke

Did you tell my mother that you called me a bitch last night,too?" I asked him. "Because that's the best way I know to win parents over."
For a split second,he looked uncomfortable. Almost immediately, he recovered and went back on the offensive. "You shouldn't wear those jeans.People might think something."
I stomped my foot on the stair. "Like what? I want to show off my fire-crotch? What do you care? God! Stop following me." My hair was down now, and I felt it smack into his chest as I whirled around and flounced down the rest of the stairs, across the lobby, and into the cold night. — Jennifer Echols

Ambrose's eyes shoot back to Charlotte and he nods. "She's changed, hasn't she? Charlotte, I mean."
"Um, besides growing her hair long she doesn't seem to have changed much to me," I say, trying not to smile. "Why?"
"It's just that she seems so ... in charge. I mean, she's always had her act together, but ever since she's been back she's seemed more confident or something. And now that she's Vincent's second ... I guess I've always thought of her as a little sister. You know, the huggable kind you want to take care of. But now that I see her working with him and taking control ... I mean ... the girl is fierce."
Ambrose's face shines with respect and a sort of curious awe, and I have to restrain myself from jumping up and cheering for the fact that it has finally happened. He has finally noticed what was right under his nose. — Amy Plum

it was "the hardest damn thing I ever did in my life. I don't care how many feathers a man wears in his hair, he's still a man. One of them, Red Legs, looked at me and said 'do you think this is fair? Would you sign such a paper?' and I could not meet his eyes. It made me sick. — Michael Crichton

He drew his chair closer and reached for her hand. "Kate, look at me," he said. Her chin was still pointing down, but her eyes came up to meet his. Her expression nearly drove the breath from him. How could she wear her feelings so openly and still function? "So now you know. I've never let myself get close to a woman because I'm not a good long-term bet. But I care for you. I've always cared for you." Without asking permission, he reached up behind her neck to stroke the heavy coil of her hair. He leaned forward, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she chose. She didn't. He kissed her softly on the mouth. Nothing had ever felt more right or natural than kissing Kate, and she didn't pull away from him. She leaned toward him and kissed him back. — Elizabeth Camden

Alone meant absolutely no one giving me shit, involving me in shit, or generally being a shit. Alone didn't care what you wore or how many days it'd been since you washed your hair or shaved your pits. Alone accepted you exactly how you were. It never lied to me or let you down. For all of these reasons and more, I loved alone. We'd probably wed. — Kylie Scott

That is not my car!"
"Correction. You used to drive a falling apart Toyota. B.A."
Had his lips just brushed her hair? She shivered. And though she knew better than to ask, she did it anyway.
"Okay. You got me. What's B.A.?"
"Before. Adam. After Adam, you drive a BMW. I take care of what is mine. That Toyota wasn't safe."
Figured that arrogant beast would define himself as the dawning of an epoch.
"I'm not yours. It was too, and you can't just go around stealing."
"I didn't, and I filled out the paperwork myself. — Karen Marie Moning

It's not that I have compromised or anything, but it's always been important to me to take good care of myself and be a good example. I'm not much a role model in terms of hair care, though. — Patti Smith

If I had it my way, I would have just kept it short forever. Of course, men like long hair. There's no two ways about it. The majority of the boys around me were like, 'Why did you do that? That's such an error.' And I was like, 'Well, honestly, I don't really care what you think!' I've never felt so confident as I did with short hair - I felt really good in my own skin. — Emma Watson

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was so pissed off at what happened, at myself, I didn't think."
He stroked a hand down her hair first, then gave the choppy ends a quick tug. "I'm not angry with you."
"I know. You could be, but you're not. So I have to be even sorrier."
"Your logic is fascinating, and elusive."
"I can't pay you back with sex or salt-crusted sea bass or whatever because you're too busy taking care of me. So now I've got this black mark in my column against the bright shiny star in yours, and - "
He tipped her head up. "Are we keeping score?"
"No. Maybe. Shit."
"How am I doing?"
"Undisputed champ."
"Good. I like to win." He brushed her bangs back to study the injury himself. "You'll do. Let's eat. — J.D. Robb

If the mountains fell in the sea,
Let it be, it ain't me.
Got my own world to live through
And I ain't gonna copy you. Now, if 6 turned up to be 9,
I don't mind, I don't mind.
If all the hippies cut off their hair,
I don't care, I don't care.
Did, 'cos I got my own world to live through
And I ain't gonna copy you. — Jimi Hendrix

Denim miniskirt. Tight white T-shirt. Scooped neck. Extraordinarily olive skin. Legs that make you care about legs. Perfectly coiffed curly brown hair. A laminated button reading ME FOR PROM QUEEN. Lacey Pemberton. Walking toward us. — John Green

My husband and I are in preproduction of three movies, a Latin show, and a children's animation. I'm doing a very unique nail polish line, and finally, I'm developing a hair care line because people always ask me about my hair care system. I do a mask once a week that my grandma taught me how to make, so I want to share it with everyone. — Joyce Giraud

Having no room of my own to "take care of things" had begun to weigh on me. I wondered if storing up semen would have a health impact on me, positive or negative, like shinier hair or weight gain. — Bill Konigsberg

I permed my hair 12 years ago, because I always wanted a perm, but my mother would never let me have one! I got a lot of stick, but I didn't care - I loved the curls. The growing out was the difficult part! — Chloe Sevigny

I have longed to move away
From the hissing of the spent lie
And the old terrors' continual cry
Growing more terrible as the day
Goes over the hill into the deep sea;
I have longed to move away
From the repetition of salutes,
For there are ghosts in the air
And ghostly echoes on paper,
And the thunder of calls and notes.
I have longed to move away but am afraid;
Some life, yet unspent, might explode
Out of the old lie burning on the ground,
And, crackling into the air, leave me half-blind.
Neither by night's ancient fear,
The parting of hat from hair,
Pursed lips at the receiver,
Shall I fall to death's feather.
By these I would not care to die,
Half convention and half lie. — Dylan Thomas

Shall I bring you some beer, while you take care of the horse?" "A good wife is prized above rubies," he said, smiling. "Come to me, mo nighean donn." He reached out a long arm and drew me in, holding me close against him. I put my arms around him and felt the quiver of his muscles, exhausted, and the sheer hard strength still in him, that would hold him up, no matter how tired he might be. We stood quite still for some time, my cheek against his chest and his face against my hair, drawing strength from each other for whatever might come. Being married. — Diana Gabaldon

Dear Mommy
I'm doing really good,
I get all A's in school
And I don't cry at bedtime anymore,
Though my new mom said I could.
I remember how much you hate tears,
You slapped them out of me
To make me strong,
I think it worked.
I learned to use a microscope
And my hair grew two inches.
It's pretty, just like yours.
I'm not allowed to clean the house,
Only my own room,
Isn't that a funny rule?
You say kids are so much trouble
Getting born, they better pay it back.
I'm not supposed to take care
Of the other kids, only me, I sort of like it.
I still get the hole in my stomach
When I do something wrong,
I have a saying on my mirror
"Kids make mistakes, It's OK,"
I read it every day,
Sometimes I even believe it.
I wonder if you ever think of me
Or if you're glad the troublemaker's gone,
I never want to see you again.
I love you, Mommy. — Karyl McBride

When I come back, the club is packed. There's hardly any standing room. Anna snagged a wooden bar stool, one of the few seats here. St. Clair stands close to her, facing her, and he smoothes the platinum stripe in her hair. She pulls him even closer by the top of his jeans, one finger tucked inside. It's an intimate gesture. I'm embarrassed to watch, but I can't look away.
He kisses her slowly and deeply. They don't care that anyone could watch. Or maybe they've forgotten they aren't alone. When they break apart, Anna says something that makes him fall into silly, boyish laughter. For some reason, that's the moment that makes me turn away. Something about their love is painful. — Stephanie Perkins

I really don't care about the response to my hair this is just how my hair is. I don't take care of it, or comb it, or put anything in it, or style it or anything. When people comment on it, it is funny to me that it draws such attention. It makes me realize how insignificant that sort of thing is. — Steve Nash

Beckett, would you do me a favor? For my wedding?" Livia asked suddenly.
He nodded. "You know I'll do whatever you ask."
She looked over her shoulder and back to his face. "In a minute I'm going to faint away from lack of food. When I wake up, I would appreciate it if you were miles away on Eve's bike."
"You're going to crack your fucking head trying to pull a stunt like that." He ran his hand through his hair. "And I gave your dad my word. I don't want him to think that was all a ploy."
"You said anything. Come on, big guy, give me what I want." She looked at him hopefully. "I'll explain it all to my dad later. I promise."
Beckett leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Fine. You take good care of my brother. Tell them both I said goodbye. I can't do it. I'm a pussy. — Debra Anastasia

The girl with a moustache" they called me every now and then
"It's about time you wax your arms" those who "cared" said
I faced the fears of the dreaded thread on my face
To succumb every other week to the world's ways — Sanhita Baruah

Do I care for her? No. She tried to kill me and I don't especially like what she does with her hair. — Lauren DeStefano

She leaned in and hugged me. "I know. Thanks. I love you, too. And for the record, Cheyenne and Landon are soul mates and if they don't end up together, I want you to find a poltergeist to haunt the Easton Heights writers."
She pulled back, smiling at me, then reaching out to ruffle Lend's hair. "Take care of each other, you two obnoxious kids."
Then, throwing her shoulders back and staring straight forward, she walked through the gate. I watched, dreading seeing her turn into dust or something, but gasped in relief and joy as her ruined, unnaturally preserved body blossomed into something new, something strong and proud and undeniably alive.
She turned back, just once, and although she was nearly unrecognizable, I could see our Arianna in her smile that managed to maintain its trademark ironic twist.
"I'm going to miss her," I said.
"What?" Lend shouted.
"I said, I'm going to miss her!"
"I can't hear you! I'm going to miss her! — Kiersten White

One minute she acts like she wants to be with me and I'm the one rejecting her. The next, she's got this barbed wire fence and barking dogs around her, like I can't even ask her the simplest questions." "And here I was assuming you didn't care about her." Stabbing his fingers through his hair, he groaned, "I don't!" "And you make it perfectly clear." Men. Idiots. — Jennifer Armintrout

He hung up and glanced at me. "I'm sorry, I have to take care of business. It can't wait, but I'll keep it short."
"Not a problem. I'll busy myself with being seen and tossing my hair. Would you like me to twirl it on my finger while biting my lip?"
"Could you?"
"No, sorry." I grinned at him — Ilona Andrews

Jessica," he began. "Just leave me alone!" He turned her around. That she only hesitated briefly before she allowed it was a very good sign, to his mind. He pulled her close, then ran his blood-caked hand over her hair as gently as he knew how. She liked that. He would have walked from Hadrian's wall to London on his hands if she'd liked that, too. Saints, what a fool love made of a normally sane man. He rested his bruised cheek against her hair. "Jess," he whispered, "it was talk you shouldn't have heard." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his arms around her. "I said things I didn't mean." "You creep, then you don't care about me at all!" "I care," he said, forcing the words from between suddenly parched lips. He was so terrified, he was shaking. If she turned and walked away now, he wasn't sure he would survive. — Lynn Kurland

hospital. You know they gave me male nurses on purpose." "Of course they did. They didn't want any of their female nurses shirking their duties to the other patients to take care of you." Levi Spencer was one of the most, if not the most, eligible bachelors in Las Vegas. He was rich, for one thing, and couldn't help being charming any more than he could help his gorgeous - according to Joe's own wife - blue eyes, dark hair or I'm-trouble-and-you'll-love-every-minute-of-it grin. "You're mostly bored," Joe said. "None of my friends came to visit me in the hospital." Joe sighed. He wasn't sure that Levi actually — Erin Nicholas

God help me, I do care about you. Gently hugging her against his chest, he tenderly moved her hair away from her angelic face. Seeing her sleep, peaceful and trusting, his thoughts of waking
her for his desires were quickly replaced. — Aleatha Romig

Omg this is like one of those sappy romance movies but I don't care! Jake is holding my hand! I looked back up at him and we slowly rose staring into each other's eyes. Ok, where the heck is my awesome music saying he's the one?! What about a breeze that blows my hair in all directions making me look hot? C'mon Cupid! Give me something!!! A weak chilly breeze blew. It barely even moved my hair. Oh c'mon!!!! — Bella Shadow

But I'm practically a guy. I mean, except for these fucking hormones that make me want to jump Ty and Justin Timberlake. I don't obsess over things that other girls care about, like clothes, movie stars, hair, painting nails, knitting, or whatever shit they're into. — Miranda Kenneally

That Abbie is such a freaking brat who doesn't know anything! My William is wasting away in that castle and that stuck up, self-righteous cow doesn't even care because now she's just all ooooo, Peter I love you! Well I don't love Peter and he's a jerk. Let's go bust down the door!" She sat back and calmly pushed her hair from her face, "Now would you get me a soda? — Gwenn Wright

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes,
the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove
And try not to notice I've fallen in love
On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:
This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink.
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?
On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair
I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care.
the head does its best but the heart is the boss-
I admit it before I am halfway across — Wendy Cope

I found him. It was easy. The Church always seems to know where its priests are, even when they're traveling. He remembered me. His hair had turned almost all gray, but he still had his kindly, hesitant manner. "I told him the truth, exactly what had happened. "'The child was conceived out of wedlock,' he said, 'but the child's father was supposed to have been killed in the war. If you marry the mother now, you can adopt him. Then we will "discover" that he is not merely your adopted son, but your natural born son. So, he was your son, he is your son, he will be your son, you will have married his mother, you will have returned from the dead,' he said, counting on his fingers. 'What more can you want? Five out of six. I have no more fingers on this hand.' "'I don't want him to suffer illegitimacy,' I said. "'He won't'. "'Why?' "'I'll take care of it.' "'How?' "'I don't know, but I will.' "And he did. — Mark Helprin