Quotes & Sayings About Wavy Hair

I am left alone with the beautiful dark coal black eyes, pale white skin, dark wavy hair man and I CAN'T BREATHE! — R.L. Mankin

My favourite beauty look is definitely '70s beauty - sun kissed skin, wavy hair and defined eyes. — Erin Heatherton

Gabriel came out a moment later, while Kaitlyn was still standing motionless by the stairs. He was shrugging into his T-shirt. He looked particularly handsome in a just-roused, early morning way. His hair was very wavy, as if someone had run fingers through it to release the curl, his eyes were hooded and lazy and there was a faint smile of satisfaction on his lips.
Kaitlyn discovered that she wanted to kill him. The image that came to her mind was of hitting him with a rolling pin, but not in an amusing, comic-book sort of way. — L.J.Smith

And then she began to think about Lady Glencora herself. What a strange, weird nature she was, - with her round blue eyes and wavy hair, looking sometimes like a child and sometimes almost like an old woman! And how she talked! What things she said, and what terrible forebodings she uttered of stranger things that she meant to say! — Anthony Trollope

At a clattering noise, Shawn looked up and saw that his captain was roaming and had backed up against a trash bin. Ashburn was easy to spot, with his shock of wavy gray hair and frequent careless flailing. His assistant, a silent and harried woman, scurried after him. She kept her hands out, ready for her boss's next inevitable disaster. — Nina Post

Rourk didn't even know her name, but he knew he'd never seen anyone so magnificent in his life. Her wavy hair glistened in the sunlight. She had a delicate, round face with large, blue-green eyes and full lips. With her cheeks flushed from the cold fall air, she reminded him of a porcelain doll. He knew that her looks deceived; her bold, daring eyes gave her away. She constantly observed her surroundings. Rourk smiled to himself; soon they would be together. — Julia Crane

No amount of wavy blond hair nor evenings spent with her plump lips applying just the right amount of pressure to his various pleasure points could make up for the rotting carcass of a soul that resided beneath all that beauty. — Nicki Elson

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

Hi, I'm Bub Richards." He extended his hand in greeting. I didn't extend mine back. I was floored that he just plopped down like he was invited. He wasn't a bad looking man, with soft blue eyes, chestnut wavy hair and baby face, but he had an awful lot of gall.
"I'm leaving, nice to meet you, Bub," I said as I stood up. — Elle Klass

He was lounging in a cubicle beside an outdated computer, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. A wavy lock of hair covered his forehead, brushing against thick lashes. His lips curled into a half smile. "I was wondering if you were ever going to find me." He made no move to clear up any space in the tiny 6x6 hole.
I dropped my bag outside the walls and hopped up on the desk opposite him. "Embarrassed someone would see you and think you're capable of reading?"
"I do have a reputation to maintain."
"And what a lovely reputation that is."
He stretched out his legs so that his feet were under mine. "So what did you want to talk about" - his voice lowered to a deep, sexy whisper - "in private?"
I shivered - and it had nothing to do with the temperature. "Not what you're hoping."
Daemon gave me a sexy smirk. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

"I can't give you all the things I once hoped to," he says. "But I can give you a family and a home. I love you, Al. I just hope you can love a simple mechanic."
I wind my fingers through the wavy hair at his neck. I admire this side of him most of all ... his fragility, his flaws. His strength in spite of them. And now, he sees that strength with as much clarity and confidence as I always have.
"There will never be anything simple about you," I whisper. "And I already love you. — A.G. Howard

Hauling a deep, make-me-feel-sexy breath, she
pinned on what she hoped was a coquettish smile, turned as smoothly as her bulky gown allowed, and found her previously pleasure-filled sightline newly blocked by sixfoot- and-change of home-grown Texas assholery.
This particular example happened to have thick, wavy
hair as dark as his heart, deep, soulful eyes as blue as the garter still circling her thigh, and a face that made angels weep. Probably after he'd screwed them senseless, knocked them up, and abandoned them with a wink and a smile. — Kate Meader

My hair is pretty wavy. And it's coarse and color-treated so I'm big on conditioner and conditioning masks. — Gwyneth Paltrow

I was examining the perfumed, coloured candles guaranteed to bring good fortune with continued use when a lovely mocha-skinned girl came in from the back room and stood behind the counter. She wore a white smock over her dress and looked about nineteen or twenty. Her wavy, shoulder-length hair was the colour of polished mahogany. A number of thin, silver hoops jingled on her fine-boned wrist. "May I help you?" she asked. Just beneath her carefully modulated diction lingered the melodic calypso lilt of the Caribbean. — William Hjortsberg

She had dark hair, very wavy, bound back from her brow with a rose-colored ribbon but falling loose down her back, nearly to her waist. He had actually raised a hand to stroke it before catching hold of himself. Then she turned around. Pale skin, big dark eyes, and an oddly knowing look in those eyes when she met his own - which she did, very directly, when he set the third chair down before her. Annalise — Diana Gabaldon

and eroded. Deandra Demarest's smile said the booking process was just another modeling session. Both times she'd held her head up high, rotated her face to create a flattering contour, squared her shoulders, flashed perfect teeth. Her smile was a strange mix of wholesome and sinful. The kind of blitheness that comes with getting away with too much for too long. In her case, biology helped: perfect oval face, cute cleft in her chin, widely spaced blue eyes with enormous irises that would make her appear appealingly confused when she was anything but. All of that crowned by a creamy sweep of wavy hair - brunette at nineteen, blond at twenty-nine. They say eyes are the true mirrors to the soul but Deandra Demarest's eyes — Jonathan Kellerman

A teenage girl lay asleep on the sofa, curled up under a red-and-black knitted afghan. She was on her side, with one slender arm cradling a throw cushion nestled under her head. Long wavy blond hair spread across her back and her shoulders like a cape. Even though she was sleeping, Alex could see how pretty she was, with her delicate, almost elfin features. He stood in the doorway, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. — L.A. Weatherly

Her arms crept around his neck and she sunk her hand into the wavy hair at his nape. He was stealing her senses. She needed to stop this ... in just a minute. He was such a good kisser, just the right amount of pressure and passion. She sighed again and moved her hands to his shoulders pushing back. — Tamara Hoffa

The girl jumped into his arms, and he swung her in an ecstatic, lop-sided circle. The joy of it hit Georgie like a shock wave. The boy's duffel bag fell to the ground. His face disappeared in the girl's long, wavy dark hair. — Rainbow Rowell

I had beautiful wavy hair and a waxed mustache. — Curly Howard

Beth wrapped her arms around Wrath's waist and leaned into her hellren's body. Their black hair mixed together, his straight, hers wavy. God, Wrath's was so damn long now. But word was that Beth liked the stuff so he'd grown it out for her.
V wiped his mouth again. Weird, how males do shit like that. — J.R. Ward

Ranmaru: I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Everything... Is my fault.

Goda: Is it your fault... the Earth is round and the sky is blue... and my hair is wavy? — Bisco Hatori

We were all trapped in stories, she said, just as he used to say, his wavy hair, his naughty smile, his beautiful mind, each of us the prisoner of our own solipsistic narrative, each family the captive of the family story, each community locked within its own tale of itself, each people the victims of their own versions of history, and there were parts of the world where the narratives collided and went to war, where there were two or more incompatible stories fighting for space on, to speak, the same page. — Salman Rushdie

My long, wavy brown hair cascaded down my back. Thank God for my Puerto Rican daddy and his thick head of hair. My mama's hair won't grow past her ears. "If you don't stop checking yourself out, I'm gonna superglue your damn eyes shut. — Kris Bell

My hair is my best feature, long and wavy, bright gold with a hint of red, trailing behind me wherever I go like an afterthought. — Cynthia Hand

People think updos are so hard, but they're not. Your hair should look tousled and undone. If I'm in a mood to go out and feel hot and sexy, I want long hair that I can feel on my back. But I also like bed head. Ill usually wash my hair and let it air-dry wavy, but if I'm just in a hang-out mood, I wont even wash it. Ill wait until it smells. — Jessica Simpson

She gave him a happy look as he followed her out on the water-soaked wooden walk. "This could be fun," she said, then turned, took a running step, and did a couple of back flips - like a middle-school kid at recess. He stopped where he was, lust and love and fear rising up in a surge of emotion he did not, for all his years, have any idea how to deal with.
"What?" she asked, a little breathless from her gymnastics. She brushed her wavy hair out of her face and gave him a serious look. "Is there something wrong?" He could hardly tell her that he was afraid because he didn't know what he'd do if something happened to her. That his sudden, unexpected reaction had brought Brother Wolf to the fore. She threw his balance off; his control - which had become almost effortless over the years - was erratic at best. — Patricia Briggs

Her wavy hair falls to mid-waist, and I think how she looks better this way. From the back. — Victoria Scott

But from where he was standing, he could see her perfectly: the wavy red hair and the oversize T-shirt with a smiling lobster on the front, the way her legs were tucked up beneath her on the swing, and the freckles across her nose. He could see her, and it was just like he'd thought. It was just like being punched in the stomach. — Jennifer E. Smith

The way she always stared at Leo was kind of disturbing. She twirled a lock of her wavy hair around a finger and batted her long, curly eyelashes at him. Once, in Chem class, Leo's Chap Stick dropped out of his pocket and rolled across the floor without him noticing. Carrie picked it up. Later, I saw her pop the lid off, sniff it, and then rub it over her lips. She had this weird look on her face, a bit like when Buffalo Bill tossed the bottle of Jergens down to his victim in Silence of the Lambs. I half expected her to moan, "It rubs the Chap Stick on its lips. — Leah Marie Brown

Her wavy, shoulder-length hair was the colour of polished mahogany. — William Hjortsberg

I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge."
"No need to remind me," Mg. Aviosky quipped just as a real person emerged from that second right, some sort of ledger in his hands.
"There are guests at the door," the man said, closing the ledger. The ensuing burst of air rustled his wavy black hair. In words pitched at a light baritone, he added, "And I would have thought the knock gave it away. — Charlie N. Holmberg

Payton grinned. "You must be Chase." As she extended her hand in introduction, she took the opportunity to give him a more thorough once-over.
He had dark wavy hair and warm brown eyes. Very Pat-rick Dempsey/McDreamy-esque. Good build, not terribly tall, maybe only five-ten-ish, but since Payton measured in at exactly five-three and one-third inch, she could work with this — Julie James

You have been spying all along," Conrad said, unconvinced. "The manhunt for you was a ruse."
"Check with the emperor," Ferrin replied coolly.
... "That will not take long," said a man in the corner, studiously picking at a fingernail with a small knife. He raised his head, wavy gray hair framing his pallid face. He wore a long coat of brown leather.
"Torvic!" Ferrin called, the exuberance hollow. "I hadn't seen you over there. Still in touch directly with Felrook? You know, to come clean, I haven't brought Maldor in on my plan yet, so it might be of little use to bother him at this juncture. — Brandon Mull

Granuaile looked terminally depressed when she emerged from the bathroom with raven hair and, as a result rather Goth by accident. She didn't want to get her picture taken.
"Aughh!" she said miserably, looking in the vanity mirror in the truck of the cab and fingering a wavy curl near her temple. "This sucks more than anything has ever sucked before. You know what we look like? A couple of emo douche bags."
"Well, look at the bright side, Granuaile. Emo Douche Bags would be a great band name."
[That's brilliant! It's already the unofficial name of more bands than I can count.] — Kevin Hearne

Oh my lord. It can't be. But it most certainly was. What in the heck is he doing here? Why in the hell was the star wide receiver of the Georgia Bulldogs at his mother's funeral? The man that made history by coming out and telling the world he was bisexual two years ago. He was a hero, and he looked the part. He stood tall, at least 6'2", or 6'3". His wavy, dirty blond hair was longer on top than the cropped hair on the sides. Dark shades covered what he knew were magnetic, emerald-green eyes. His broad shoulders made his suit hang beautifully on his large body. Curtis' mouth watered at the thought of all those muscles. He'd gotten glimpses of the man's chest and biceps when the reporters and cameramen of ESPN would go in the locker room to listen to the coach congratulate his team on a win. There he was right there, just twenty feet away from him. — A.E. Via

As Amani frantically diced the ingredients for her Pan seared Mahi-Mahi with Mango Salsa, she recalled her first meeting with him during a class he taught on the presentation of food and organization the previous year. Amani had been immediately drawn to the tall, serious Californian, and not just because of his looks. With dark wavy hair, strong features and the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen short of Paul Newman's, David Spencer was everything Amani admired in a man, and then some. — Joanna Hynes

Two applesauce shots, please."
I gaped at her. "Shots? God, what are we, in college?"
She moved her wavy brown hair out of her eyes. "No, we don't have to be in college to have what I'm sure"- she looked at the bartender- "will be a fantastically prepared, perhaps overflowing shot."
He laughed with a shake of his head. "You got it."
"It's delicious," she said to me, "Goldschlager and something else. I don't remember. But it totally tastes like applesauce."
"Why would anyone want to drink applesauce?" But I was already wondering if it could be reduced to a glaze for pork chops, and made a mental note to find out what was in it. — Beth Harbison

I'm just interested in finding out what the hell goes. I mean do you have to be a goddam bohemian type, or dead, for Chrissake, to be a real poet? What do you want - some bastard with wavy hair? — J.D. Salinger

Those deep set eyes that look like they could tell stories for days, and that wavy brown hair that feels soft between my fingers. I try to memorize the angles of his jaw and the lines of his lips, because I know.
I know this may be the last time I ever see him.
Breathe fills my lungs, my throat relaxes, and I can't help but smile. Because I can see what he's thinking as clearly as if he'd spoken.
He doesn't want to leave - he doesn't want to go home.
He's going to choose me instead. — Elizabeth Norris

I took a couple steps away from him and stopped in front of a framed colored poster of Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable from the movie Gone with the Wind. I studied the pair, Gable with his mysterious mustache and Leigh in her red ball gown. I'd become a fan of the classic, partially because of my mother's suggestion that I looked a lot like a younger Vivien Leigh, with my dark wavy hair and sea green eyes. And as usual, I'd believed her for a little while. — J.C. Patrick

Lola found herself staring at him when he turned back to the road. He was tall enough that his dark, wavy hair touched the roof of the car, and so broad his sculpted bicep continually brushed against her bare upper arm, sending shivers straight to her nipples and between her legs. She crossed her thighs, disgusted with herself, and vowed not to start lusting after this jerk. — Sweden Reese

Her hair had been long and wavy and brown then, natural in curl and color, as he liked it, and her face bashful and soft
a reflection less of the way she was than of the way he wanted to see her. — Alice Munro

Sweet baby Jesus, Blue Eyes was ...
He was gorgeous in all the ways that made girls do stupid things. He was tall, a good head or two taller than me and broad at the shoulders, but tapered at the waist. An athlete's body - like a swimmer's. Wavy black hair toppled over his forehead, brushing matching eyebrows. Broad cheekbones and wide, expressive lips completed the package created for girls to drool over. And with those sapphire-colored eyes, holy moley ... — J. Lynn

The three women laughing over there? Dark wavy hair, coffee skin, and beautiful matching sets of big, lovely - "
I slapped him on the arm.
"Hey. Eyes. I was going to say eyes. What were you thinking? — Devon Monk

As he started making a pot of coffee he glanced out his kitchen window and into his neighbor's window and froze. He had the perfect view of his new neighbor. She was beautiful. Scratch that. The word didn't even come close to describing her.

She didn't seem very tall, though it was hard to measure. Her dark wavy hair cascaded down over her shoulders, reaching just below her breasts. Very full breasts. Definitely enough to fill his palms. And the tight tank top she was wearing left very little to the imagination. It was obvious she'd just woken up as she rubbed a hand over her face and reached for the coffee pot. Look away, he ordered himself.

But he was rooted to the spot. — Katie Reus

Did you even realize who was at that table?" The one with long, dark, wavy hair laughs. "I mean, let's just for a minute acknowledge that you just sang to two of the members from Corrosive Velocity and Jackson Shaw! Like, from The Forgotten, Jackson Shaw."
"Sid, keep it down." The other hisses so low, I'm almost unable to hear her.
Realizing this is my snake charmer, I slip into autopilot with the gathering fans: nod, smile, and sign.
"You've got to be more excited. I mean, the man is seven feet of lickable body graffiti. Whew! I'd climb his beanstalk any day. — Sadie Grubor

Ravenwood ran a hand through his wavy chestnut hair, upsetting the careful work of his valet.

Or not. Given the popularity of the "frightened owl" hairstyle today, Amelia couldn't fathom much effort being involved at all. — Erica Ridley

Come with me if you want to live."
Neva stared at the enormous hand the stranger extended her. Her gaze followed the black leather-clad arm up to the massive shoulders, the strong jaw, and the thick lock of wavy blonde hair hanging over his dark glasses. "You have so got to be kidding me," she said.
He shrugged. "I always wanted to say that line. Except I'm not kidding. — Dani Harper

Mon dieu. I cannot leave without tasting your lips once more."
She read the question in his hooded gaze. She would not let him leave, of course, but allowing him a kiss seemed a reasonable consolation after saving her life. Especially as she wanted it , too. Longed for it.
She put her hand behind his neck, mimicking him, and threaded her fingers through his thick, wavy hair. "Take your kiss, my lord. — Sandra Jones

Of course, he showed me this one afternoon when he was skipping class. When trolls cut classes, you think they are losers. When the beautiful and/or reasonably erudite do the same thing to sit on the library steps and read poetry, you think they are on to something deep. You see only deep brown wavy hair and strong legs, well honed by years of Ultimate Frisbee. You see that book of T. S. Eliot poems held by the hand with the long, graceful fingers, and you never stop to think that it shouldn't take half a semester to read one book of poems ... that maybe he is not so much reading as getting really high every morning and sleeping it off on the library steps, forcing the people who actually go to class to step or trip over him. — Maureen Johnson

Her caramel skin and curly beach sand hair spreads in wavy chops like the choppy storm waves on the ocean. Her fluffy rose colored lips glisten with eyes emerald green and almond shaped set deep into her face and yet when she looks at you with those same deep set eyes, it feels like they jump out, speaking to you. — Ami Blackwelder

Her wavy blond hair — Rick Riordan

Seth stood about six feet eight inches tall with broad shoulders, a leanly muscled form, beautiful patrician features, and long wavy black hair (drawn back with a leather tie) that reached his waist. David stood about six feet seven inches with equally broad shoulders, a bit more muscle, the face of a pharaoh, flawless skin as dark as midnight, and pencil-thin dreadlocks that fell to his hips. — Dianne Duvall