Ponytail Quotes & Sayings

I go through different phases and change my mind about my style all the time. In the winter, I wanted to wear jeans and pumps and black and leather all the time. Right now, I want to wear long skirts and belts, with my hair in a ponytail. It changes all the time! — Heather Morris

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

She was everything he loved about a woman wrapped up in a cute little package. Golden blonde hair was secured to the top of her head in a ponytail, he bet it would reach her waist when it was loose. Her body was curvy in all the right places, her breasts more than filled out the T-shirt she was wearing and those hips, dang he could just imagine holding onto them while she rode him, instead of Big Red. — Tamara Hoffa

He glances at the sorry trio of copy editors before him: Dave Belling, a simpleton far too cheerful to compose a decent headline; Ed Rance, who wears a white ponytail
what more need one say?; and Ruby Zaga, who is sure that the entire staff is plotting against her, and is correct. What is the value in remonstrating with such a feckless triumvirate? — Tom Rachman

He was a self-righteous know-it-all who had the breath of a dung beetle, a gray ponytail he barely pulled together from the bozo ring of hair clinging to his balding, freckled dome, and loved to drink, of all things, tea. Usually it was some sickly sweet-smelling herbal crap that was made in the hippie wasteland of Boulder, Colorado. The box was festooned with the image of a happy, dancing bear in a field of multicolored flowers and the tea had some idiotic name like Tai Chai. After work one evening, I snatched the box of tea bags from the break room and changed the recipe. I wasn't really worried that any other employees would use one of the tea bags because NO ONE DRINKS FUCKING TEA AT WORK, especially not the totally useless, noncaffeinated fairy tears reserved for old maids to sip while they watch Murder, She Wrote in bed with their legion of cats. — Shane Kuhn

I strolled into a downtown parking garage, wearing a black pantsuit and matching heels. I'd pulled my dark, chocolate-brown hair up into a high, sleek ponytail, while black glasses with clear lenses covered my cold
gray eyes. I looked like just another corporate office drone, right down to the enormous black handbag I carried. — Jennifer Estep

I'm the gun guy, a loud guitar Dirty Harry with a ponytail. — Ted Nugent

She smiles and slips her arm through his. Her tread is light and bouncy and I can almost see the ghost of her cheerleader's ponytail bobbing at the back of her head. — Laura Wiess

Given that you probably used to wear ... velvet bloomers, lace, high heels, and a ponytail, yeah - I guess you have changed a little," I said, and gave a slight smile in hopes of easing the depressing mood.Eli actually grinned. "That look was hot back then." He held his arms out. "Velvet coat with tails to match. Yeah, ruffles, too. I was badass. — Elle Jasper

I can't live without knowing I have my extensions and ponytail. So I can run out the door at the drop of a hat. — Christie Brinkley

I wish I were three feet tall and he could pick me up and he still had a beard and he wore cotton sweaters that felt soft on my cheek and I could cry it all away and I would wipe my tears on his shoulder and I could suck my thumb and suck the end of my ponytail and he wouldn't tell me only babies did that and he would rock me on the front porch with the wind coming clean from the north and he would sing nursery rhymes with made-up words like Mom used to and he could teach me the alphabet again and how to walk and how to run and maybe I would do it better this time. — Laurie Halse Anderson

This is why I'm not married," Ranger said. "Women ask questions." "Unh!" I said, smacking my forehead with the heel of my hand. "That's not why you're not married. You're not married because you're ... impossible." He dragged me to him and kissed me, and I felt the kiss travel like lava to my doo-dah. "I have some issues to resolve," he said. No kidding. He gave my ponytail a playful tug and left. — Janet Evanovich

But when Bethany came into class, her dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail, showing off her graceful neck, he may have stopped breathing again. A thousand charming words strung together in his head in a nanosecond, but he averted his eyes to his empty notebook. Notes? Who really took notes in class? Dawson wanted to see if she would talk to him first. God, he was like a teenage girl. He was so screwed. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I'm very lucky that I have people styling my hair and teaching me how to work with it, but it wasn't always like that. Growing up, I had extremely wavy and thick hair and that can be very overwhelming - you end up with the same ponytail every day. — Crystal Renn

When I first entered the school, I was all set to tie my hair in a ponytail, get a fake tan, and write my homework in pink gel ink. I was prepared to hear girls bragging nonchalantly about the BMWs and diamond earrings they recieved for their birthday. I almost looked forward to hearing the flashlight-wielding nuns tell me to "leave room for the holy ghost" when I danced lewedly with messy-haired prep-school boys — Jennifer Allison

The speaker was stringy and angular, his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, his plaid workman's shirtsleeves rolled up around his pale biceps. Journalism major, I guessed. — Jonathan Lethem

I'm never opposed to sexual favors as payment." He wrapped her ponytail around his fist, leaning close to her ear.
"I'm too exhausted to kick your ass. Drop my hair. You know better. — Debra Anastasia

I'd like to put on buckskins and a ponytail and go underwater with a reed, hiding from the Indians ... To me, that's sexy! — Kevin Costner

His kisses fade to nuzzle along my face and neck, soft and poignant. "Al," he whispers. "You taste so sweet ... like honeysuckle."
"Don't," I murmur, in a daze.
He draws back, eyes heavy and dark. "You want me to stop?"
"No." I've fallen asleep praying for you to look at me like this. To touch me like this. "Don't break my heart."
Moth shadows glide above him in the mirrored ceiling, distracting me from the fierceness of his frown. "I'd cut mine out first."
I believe he would. Stretching to tiptoe, I clasp his ponytail. This time, I kiss him. He responds with a spine-tingling growl, fingers digging into my hips. — A.G. Howard

You rarely get a convincing lecture on playing to your strength from a bald guy with a ponytail. — Dana Gould

In a straight up movie montage scene, ten things happened around me at once: someone pulled the broom from my hand, another person ripped the shirt off my head, a measuring tape appeared around my boobs, and two women crouched down in front of my legs. HEYO. "Nice tits," one assistant said as she finished measuring my chest. "Uhh, thanks," I replied as she ran in the opposite direction, having acquired the measurement she needed. "Is this your natural color?" a hairstylist asked as she ripped the hat and ponytail from my head. — R.S. Grey

I was always the girl who wore the mismatching socks, frizzy hair, ponytail I wouldn't take out for a week, and cutoff jean shorts that were at my knees. — AnnaLynne McCord

She was tall and slender with long dark hair that swung in a shiny ponytail from one shoulder to the other, her dress swirling beneath her cinched waist.
He thought suddenly of watermelon. It was hard to come by back in Scotland but even before he'd ever tasted one in the flesh it had reminded him of summer (which was also hard to come by back in Scotland).
He knew what watermelon tasted like now; it was one of his favorite things. He could almost feel it in his mouth as he stood there, that cold sweet powerful explosion of almost nothing.
He needed to find a slice as soon as possible. — Sarah-Kate Lynch

In her daydreams, they aged miraculously, she still trim with a blond ponytail, standing next to her strong, tall husband with his thick, curly dark hair and straight white teeth. Money was never an issue. — Karen Jones Gowen

It looked like his ponytail had revolted against him, said Bramble. — Heather Dixon

I watch her do the simplest things: brushing her hair into a ponytail, feeding the dog, tying Sophie's shoelaces, and I want to tell her what she means to me, but I never actually say the words. After all, to acknowledge Delia as a drug, I'd have to face the fact that one day I might have to go without her and this I can't do. — Jodi Picoult

Real trouble doesn't walk around with a ponytail. It doesn't have a Mohawk or special shoelace patterns. Real trouble has a bad complexion and a Windbreaker. — David Sedaris

I've been applying makeup long enough to feel good doing it on my own, but I cannot do my hair to save my life. When left to my own devices, if I have to go to an event, I do a slicked bun. Otherwise, I just try to wear a hat, put it in a ponytail, or do a side braid - something easy. — Kourtney Kardashian

It needs to be said. I didn't have the strongest stomach. I wasn't the type of guy who could hold your hair while you puked and not be affected. Did that make me the worst possible boyfriend ever? Maybe. It's entirely possible I'd throw you a towel and run out of the room gagging. I know it's romantic to women - oh, my gosh, he's so sweet he held my hair while I puked up last night's hot dog and enough rum and Diet Coke to kill Captain Jack Sparrow! Seriously? What do you women read? How the hell is that romantic? Give me one reason. One. Just one. I don't even need three. Oh, wow, silence, big shock. You wanna know why? Because it's gross. Because if I had long hair and I were leaning over the toilet, God, you would not, ever, in your right mind waltz into the bathroom, put it in a ponytail, rub my back, wipe my mouth, and think, Wow, I really love this guy, oh, look a cracker! — Rachel Van Dyken

At 62, I remain clean and sober and my ponytail remains erect. — Ted Nugent

He looked up, expecting to see a couple of EMTs bearing down on him with a stretcher, but his heart stuttered when the crowd shifted and Celida appeared. She stopped dead when she saw him, both hands flying up to cover her mouth and nose. Then she dropped her hands and raced toward him, dark ponytail streaming behind her. He watched her face crumple a second before she reached him and a different kind of pain lit up in his chest. Beat up as he was, there was no way he couldn't reach for her. He held out his — Kaylea Cross

For a moment, he rested his hand on the pitchfork, breath ragged. Strands of hair escaped the ponytail and fell over his eyes, making him look wild, untamed. He'd changed so much from that quiet boy. He'd had to, growing up with monsters as playmates. — Megan Shepherd

I think it's kinda nice.' And I did. my mom isn't famous for her pies. No, she's famous for defusing a nuclear device in Brussels with only a pair of cuticle scissors and a ponytail holder. Somehow, at the moment, pies seemed cooler. — Ally Carter

IF THE MAN WHO CAME THROUGH THE DOOR FIRST WAS Mr. Spanos, then Tyler's father was a twenty-eight-year-old bodybuilder with a ponytail and a suspicious bulge under his left arm. That would have meant he fathered Tyler at the age of ten, which seemed to be pushing the envelope, even in Miami. But whoever this man was, he was very serious, and he looked the room over carefully, which included glaring at me and Deke, before he stuck his head back into the hall and nodded. The next man into the room looked a little bit more like you would hope a teenage girl's father might look. He was middle-aged, relatively short, and a little chubby, with thinning hair and gold-rimmed glasses. His face was sweaty and tired and his mouth hung open as if he had to gasp for breath. He staggered into the room, looked helplessly around for a moment, and then stood in front of Deborah, blinking and breathing heavily. A — Jeff Lindsay

He watched her walk away with a sway in her hips that tossed her long, milk-chocolate-colored ponytail from side to side. — Meg Knight

These five teens are convinced it was not a prank. They all believe this is the beginning of the zombie apocalypse we hear so much about. But I'm not so sure I believe their story - not this close to Halloween."
The girl with the ponytail frowned at him. "I know what I saw," she said. "They are here! — R.L. Stine

His wolf was triumphant. At last, she recognized him. He scented her panic and swooped in, determined to nip it in the bud. His hand closed on her neck. The curls at her nape tickled his palm Drake wrapped her ponytail around his fist as she tried to back away. A brief warning growl left his lips as they covered hers in a soul-searing kiss. — Chudney Thomas

No one recognizes me. And I hope that I can always go out without being recognized. Maybe that limits you in some way but I like to be able to pull my hair back in a ponytail and get groceries without anyone noticing. — Susanna Thompson

Like my makeup, I keep my hair simple. It's either down or in a ponytail. — Behati Prinsloo

Slayde came out of the kitchen, long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, T-shirt dusted with flour, coffee in hand. If you wake the kids up before two, I'm going to beat you with a skillet. — Sean Michael

Good luck! I'll keep my cell phone on in case you need me to bail you out of jail later."

"You're a good friend, Chloe," I tell her, freeing my ponytail from under my coat.

"Not really." She shakes her head, smiling. "I'm secretly just happy I'm finally getting a crack at the Pringles," she says, shaking the can. "You don't share when you're sulking. — Jana Aston

Darling Daddy,
This is Rose.
Very good news. Caddy is going to marry Micheal. In case you have forgotten because you have not been home for so long he is the one with the ponytail and the earring that you do not like. And Caddy says she will have a white lace dress and three bridesmaids, Saffron and Sarah and me, and a big party for everyone, all her old boyfriends too. Fireworks. A band. A big tent called a marquee. But where will we put it? Carriages with white horses for us all to go to the church. Afterward Caddy and Micheal will go for a holiday to Australia to visit the Great Barrier Reef. Caddy has it all worked out and Mummy says Yes She Can Of Course You Can Darling Of Course You Must Do That. Saffron said That Will Cost a Few Weeks Housekeeping and Mummy said Yes But We Do Not Need to Worry About That. DADDY WILL PAY.
Love, Rose. — Hilary McKay

Brancheau was smiling, her long ponytail flaring out behind her. It was an endearing site: Man — Tim Zimmermann

All of the designers I have met up to this point have been very nice, although upon being introduced to Karl Lagerfeld, he looks me up and down and dismisses me with the not super-kind, "What can you write that hasn't been written already?"
He's absolutely right, I have no idea. I can but try. The only thing I can come up with right now is that Lagerfeld's powdered white ponytail has dusted the shoulders of his suit with what looks like dandruff but isn't ... seated on a tiny velvet chair, with his large doughy rump dominating the miniature piece of furniture like a loose, flabby, ass-flavored muffin over-risen from its pan, he resembles a Daumier caricature of some corpulent, overfed, inhumane oligarch drawn sitting on a commode, stuffing his greedy throat with the corpses of dead children, while from his other end he shits out huge, malodorous piles of tainted money. How's that for new and groundbreaking, Mr. L.?
— David Rakoff

The back barn door opened, and in walked a vision in a billowing green dress. As she led in her mare, Mr. McBride's voice faded away as Tom's total attention turned to the girl. About twenty-one or two, Tom guessed. Not too tall, nor short. Beautiful heart-shaped face decorated with rosy cheeks and light freckles. Long auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. Perfectly set green eyes. Full-bosomed and hourglass shaped. Breathtaking. — C.G. Faulkner

Sitting there on the swing set, in her bare feet and blue dress, her hair slipping out of its ponytail, she was so gorgeous that it hurt. — Robyn Schneider

Henry had bought a Phillies hat as we'd gotten off the subway at Broad and had tucked his substantial ponytail over the adjustable strap in the back. He could have been from Philadelphia; he could have been a very large Indian from Philadelphia, but he could have been from Philadelphia. I was blending in even better. I had left my hat at the hospital on Lena Moretti's head, had purchased a natty fitted cap and a vast red-satin jacket from the Broad Street vendo, and now approached the major league ballpark looking like a British phone box. — Craig Johnson

That's No Ordinary Girl — B.J. Neblett

You don't pray?" Ram asks.
"Which one should I pray to," I say flatly, "the dragon, or the fairy?"
Ram stares at me.
I tug on my ponytail. "That's our religion," I explain, suddenly self-conscious. "A mountain fairy married a dragon. That's where we all come from."
I can see the shy smile poking at Ram's lips. "You're half-fairy?"
"And half-dragon," I remind him.
"Right. Definitely. — Rose Christo

She pulled her blonde hair back into a high ponytail, which somehow drew even more attention to her chest. "I don't mean the right guy to marry, honey. I mean the right guy to get your blood pumping. To make you turn off your analytical, judgmental, hyperactive brain and think with your body instead."
"Bodies can't think."
"SEE!" She said. "Analytical. Judgmental. — Cora Carmack

Audrey Griffin's eyes were wild, and she had a big smile as usual, and she was shaking a piece of paper at us. Her gray hair was coming out of its ponytail, and she was wearing clogs, and under her down vest you could see the pleats on her jeans bulging out. It was hard not to watch. — Maria Semple

On stage, I'm this figure, this actor, who does things that people aren't used to seeing and I relish in that reaction. In real life, though, I play golf, I shop and I walk around with no makeup on and my hair in a ponytail. I may not be the typical middle-aged Joe, but I'm closer to normal than you think. — Alice Cooper

As she relaxed against his chest, he pulled her in closer. Turning her face into his shirt, she breathed in the calming scent that was him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into the fabric.
One big hand stroked over her head, down her long ponytail to rub her back in soothing circles. "No, I'm sorry. You've told me before it made you uncomfortable and I pushed. That was an asshole move. You're entitled to your feelings and I shouldn't fight against them. I'm sorry." He dropped a kiss on her temple.
And with that little apology, she stepped off the cliff of denial and fell headfirst into love with Brett Wallace. — Jeanette Murray

I was snagged around the midriff and thrown back to the bed, my head hitting the pillows, and Vance Crowe rolled his body over mine. I stilled and looked up into his dark, lushy-lashed eyes.
"Oh my God," I breathed.
"Mornin'," he said to me, like we woke up next to each other every day.
"Oh my God," I breathed again.
His hair was not in a ponytail but falling down around his face and shoulders and, I kid you not, he looked like a Native American Warrior God.
"Do I have your attention?" he asked. — Kristen Ashley

He had a ponytail. But this was not a regular ponytail from the Sixties, not a ponytail for show or for fashion. It was more. It was a personal ponytail, something more defining and lasting. A personal thing is different, and all the books and all the magazines in the world can't tell you what that is. — Alberto Alvaro Rios

I had my hair in a ponytail and looked my trademark exhausted. — Tina Fey

Hannah with the ponytail was one of those women who laugh readily and can talk nonsense for hours without a single sensible thing being said. In principle I try to ignore people like that as much as possible. I simply choose not to think about them. Make up my mind that they don't exist. — Jonas Karlsson

They were flying back from a big show in London, the whole roster on the plane. The story goes that much alcohol was consumed and things quickly got uncomfortable: Hennig and Scott Hall went wild with some shaving cream; Dustin Rhodes awkwardly serenaded his ex-wife, Terri; the legendary wrestler turned booker Michael "P.S." Hayes got punched out by JBL and later, after he had fallen asleep, had his ponytail chopped off by Sean Waltman; Ric Flair paraded in front of a flight attendant in nothing but his sequined ring robe; and, to top it all off, Hennig challenged collegiate wrestling star (and WWE golden boy) Brock Lesnar to a Greco-Roman wrestling match that ended when Lesnar tackled Hennig into the exit door, and they were pulled apart just before they jeopardized the flight. — David Shoemaker

She made a slow turn as she loosened her ponytail and shook her head; her hair streamed down her back like a glossy black waterfall. She finished her spin. Her focus landed on me, and the air caught in my throat. My Wolf stirred.
Clare.
Her body went rigid; her sultry gaze hardened as she stared at me.
Clare Walker. I'd know those moonlit eyes anywhere.
She ran and grabbed hold of the stage right pole. Her feet left the floor as she wrapped her legs around the brass and spun.
What in god's name is she doing working in a fucking strip club? — Elizabeth Morgan

I've told him to cut off his ponytail. I think it makes him less aerodynamic. — Arsene Wenger

I won't usually make plans with people I don't know on Fridays because all I want to do is stick my hair in a ponytail and put on a big sweater, some tights and a pair of sneakers after a week working in the city. — Bobbi Brown

A slick ponytail is a great way to add a modern, minimal look to your outfit. — Brad Goreski

I don't really like dressing up. Some people probably think actresses dress up everywhere they go. I'm in sweatpants half the time with my hair in a ponytail. — Selena Gomez

I always laugh because if I walk through the mall in my gym clothes a ponytail I get recognized but if I'm in street clothes or dressed up not very many people notice. — Kim Lyons

Sunny laughed. "It's okay. You're right, Emma. My name is unusual, but I like to think of it as ... special also."
Special?
Sam cocked his head as he studied Sunny. Almost all of her hair had escaped out of her ponytail now. She wore a baggy pink sweatshirt and had on the kind of drawstring plaid pants that would've set Bozo the Clown's heart pitter-pattering with envy. Her yellow tennis shoes were covered with dog hair.
Yeah, special was one word for her. — Jennifer Shirk

Oh, you just look at something and figure out how it works," Kai deadpanned, standing beside her. "Is that all?" Cinder fixed her ponytail and shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. "It's just mechanics." Kai scooped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "No, it's impressive," he said, using the pad of his thumb to brush something off Cinder's cheek. "Not to mention, weirdly attractive," he said, before capturing her lips. — Marissa Meyer

Then Freddie was transformed into a moth. His old empty body fell forward face first into the water with a splash. Slicked back hair tied in a ponytail floated on the surface of the pool like a dead rodent on the sea as Freddie fluttered up towards a nearby streetlamp. — Stephen Livingston

Jane was wearing a charcoal shift dress. The black dipped into a love V accented with a large black chiffon bow. A layer of delicate black lace peeked out from the bottom of her dress. Her long blond hair was pulled back tightly into a straight ironed ponytail. Her makeup was simple: coral blush on her cheeks and gunmetal shadow brushed under her blue eyes. — Lauren Conrad

Sometimes the beard was loose, sometimes it was braided and sometimes, like that afternoon, it was in its own ponytail so that Al's head looked like something about to be tie-dyed. — Louise Penny

Wrapping his hand up in her ponytail, he gently but firmly tugged until she lifted her face to his. If I'm going to be in your bed, Sophie, you're mine for the duration. — Jill Shalvis

For years I had my hair parted down the middle in a ponytail, tucked down around the sides ... Well, I went and cut the bangs, and I've been wearing them ever since. They say it's my trademark. — Bettie Page

I wash my hair once a week. You can do that. I swear. My sister-in-law and all of my friends were like, 'I can't do that. It sounds gross.' Once you train your hair, it will do whatever you want it to do. And on day seven when it's too oily, you just put it in a ponytail. — Joyce Giraud

Love the ponytail," Connor says, pointing at his hair.
Lev shrugs. "It's just because my hair is so tatted. But maybe I'll keep it."
"Don't," Connor tells him. "I lied. I hate it. — Neal Shusterman

middle of the room, stands my stylist, Micah, beside a foldaway beauty chair, arranging cosmetics and other paraphernalia atop his portable vanity table, as he sings along with the music playing from his Tab. He's a good looking man, tall and broad shouldered, with dark chocolate skin, gaping flesh-holes in both ears, black dreadlocks pulled back into a thick ponytail and heavy eye make-up which makes his eyes appear to pop out of his face. Too bad he's gay. — M.L. Sparrow

She skinned her hair back into a ponytail, a style she knew was probably too young for her, but she planned to drive with her windows open and she could ditch the elastic band once she got to the lake. — Joanne Fluke

His head turns fractionally toward me, his eyes darkest slate. I bite my lip.
"Oh, fuck the paperwork," he growls. He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he's got both of my hands in one of his in a vice-like grip above my head, and he's pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my ponytail and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. It's only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never been kissed like this. — E.L. James

Trying to get himself back in line, he kissed the inside of her knee. She touched his hair, reaching down to loosen his ponytail like he'd done with hers. She brushed her fingers over the back of his neck, saying more with that one gesture than she could have with a thousand words.I want you. I trust you. I love you. — Cari Quinn

But as the sun slipped even further, his eyes weren't drawn to the horizon. He watched Lily as she stood on the dock, glorying in the golden ritual, her russet hair slipping free from its ponytail to frame her face with messy abandon.
This is the view I need to be happy, she'd said.
The irony was exquisite. Because that was what he whispered to himself every time he saw her too.
And there wasn't a damn thing he could ever do about it. — Elyse Mady

Charlie Bourdel stood five foot nothing without his combat boots. His long, black, curly hair was caught up in a high ponytail that reached the middle of his back. He kept a switchblade in his right combat boot and a .45 in his guitar case and could and would willingly hurt anybody who made the mistake of messing with him. Between the badass attitude and the fifty-pound chip on his shoulder you'd think he had a fatal case of little man syndrome; you'd be dead wrong. He was one hundred and thirty pounds sopping wet of swagger and confidence. — W.E. DeVore

When I saw you at the graveyard, looking so white, I knew something was wrong. I knew it."
Azalea stared at him, the fire flickering highlights in his eyes.
"So ... I thought I should do something," he finished lamely.
"You saw everything?"
Mr. Bradford gave a half of a crooked smile. "I did knock."
"You didn't see Mr ... Mr.-"
"Mr. Keeper?" Mr. Bradford spat the name. "Oh yes, I saw Mr. Keeper. Rather hard not to. I saw him try to kiss you. Or what he said was a kiss. I want to snap his head off!"
Azalea had her hand over her mouth, shocked that someone as solemn and dignified as Mr. Bradford could have such venom. He took her hands, gently, and pushed up her sleeved, revealing her swollen wrists. His fringers traced the bruises.
"You stopped him," said Azalea. She bowed her head, shy. "You kept him from-from-"
"Ah, yes, my lady!" Mr. Bradford smiled a crooked smile in full. "His ponytail was simply begging to be yanked. — Heather Dixon

It's so mental how I looked in the '90s. The fact that I thought my ponytail was a good thing - it was just terrible. Cutting it off was so monumental. — Andy Cohen

Eventually she came. She appeared suddenly, exactly like she'd done that day- she stepped into the sunshine, she jumped, she laughed and threw her head back, so her long ponytail nearly grazed the waistband of her jeans.
After that, I couldn't think about anything else. The mole on the inside of her right elbow, like a dark blot of ink. The way she ripped her nails to shreds when she was nervous. Her eyes, deep as a promise. Her stomach, pale and soft and gorgeous, and the tiny dark cavity of her belly button.
I nearly went crazy. — Lauren Oliver

The first time I saw you, at the Governor, I handn't been to watch the birds at the border in years. But that's what you reminded me of. You were jumping up, and you were yelling something, and your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and you were so fast ... " He shakes his head. "Just a flash, and then you were gone, Exactly like a bird. — Lauren Oliver

He'd abandoned his usual outfit of black rap clothes or GI Joe cammies. He was wearing a brown leather jacket, a cream-colored Henley, faded jeans, and work boots. His hair, which had always been slicked back in a ponytail, was cut short. He had a two-day beard, making his teeth seem whiter and his Latino complexion seem darker. — Janet Evanovich

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

Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her flawless skin had a slight sheen from her dash across the parking lot and up the stairs. Sexy, but he suspected the fantasy the sheen inspired was better than the reality. She was the job. Probably wore Kevlar to bed. End of story. Still, he did enjoy playing with her. He liked her big blue eyes, cute little nose, slim athletic body, and her earnest dedication to making the world a more law-abiding place. It made his dedication to crime much more interesting. — Janet Evanovich

I had long hair since I was 17 years old. It was time for me to let go. I hated being the guy at the wedding in a suit with a ponytail. — Dave Grohl

Candace nodded a little too hard. She loved making her ponytail swing. — Lisi Harrison

She had her hair up in a ponytail, exposing a delicate neck.
I wanted to bite it. Then lick it to make it better. Then suck on it ... hard ... just so she'd know how hungry I was. — Sawyer Bennett

Ponytail girl leaned over and she and the tall boy kissed and it was carcinogen gums and magical. — Aimee Bender

She's got mascara smeared underneath her eyes, some of which is still on my pillowcase. Her hair is in disarray. Her ponytail holder in on the sheet beside her. She looks like hell. A beautiful hell — Colleen Hoover

She looks sort of like a nurse, Ruby thought. Or a nun, but a movie star nun, not a real one, and an old-fashioned rescuing-the-orphans sort of movie star nun, not the comedy sort. It was her face. It was open and fresh and happy and she had shiny dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. — Sarah-Kate Lynch

It's not easy when someone pulls your ponytail. — David Beckham

I was at a bar, and this guy bumped into me, and he did not apologize, and he said, "Move!" I thought that was rude, so I said, "Go to hell!" Then I started to run. He caught up to me. He had a mustache, a goatee, a pair of earrings, sunglasses, a ponytail and he was wearing a hat. He said, "Hey, you got a lot of nerve!" I said, "Hey, you got a lot of ... cranium accessories!" — Mitch Hedberg

She says, "I'll swear by the rose tattooed on my ass, that old man raped me."
Here, the funeral parade stops. At this point, Comrade Snarky is a victim among victims. The rest of us - just her supporting cast.
Mrs. Clark, leading us, she looks back and says, "He what?"
And from behind his camera, Agent Tattletale says, "Me, too. He raped me first."
Saint Gut-Free says, "Well what the hell ... He poked me, too."
As if poor skinny Saint Gut-Free had enough ass left to poke.
And Mrs. Clark says, "This is not funny. Not in the least."
"Tough," the Matchmaker tells her. "It's wasn't funny, either, when you raped me."
Shaking his ponytail, the Duke of Vandals tells the Matchmaker, "You couldn't pay to get raped. — Chuck Palahniuk

People are so afraid to say the word 'comic'. It makes you think of a grown man with pimples, a ponytail and a big belly. Change it to 'graphic novel' and that disappears. — Marjane Satrapi

But in this crowd, my blond ponytail stood out like a crescent moon in a midnight sky. — Kristin Bartley Lenz

When I'm not working, I spend a lot of time on my hair. When it's time for my hair to get some rest, I either wear it in a ponytail, bun or my favorite 'milkmaid' braid. — Tracee Ellis Ross

And his hair was free, no ponytail, no braid, the long thickness of it waved and curled down his back, over his shoulders and next to his face. I felt my lungs start burning. Holy freaking moly ... my husband was hot! — Kristen Ashley

Every single job I do. It sounds goofy but I did a music video for Fergie. I was in full on tattoos, ponytail, but it's like even things like that they help other people to see you in a different light. They give me opportunities. I try and change the image with every job that I can, it's just hard when you work on a TV show and you work so many months and trying to get away from that. — Milo Ventimiglia