To tell you the truth, I'm relieved that the Van Ripers are not coming. He's telling the same jokes he told twenty years ago and she dyes her hair. I think it's a shrimp pink now.
(Adele Comandini, and Edward Sutherland. Michael O'Brien (Charles Winninger), Beyond Tomorrow, when the three partners are stood up for a dinner engagement (1940).
Original story by Mildred Cram and Adele Comandini.)
I am pretty sure that, if you will be quite honest, you will admit that a good rousing sneeze, one that tears open your collar and throws your hair into your eyes, is really one of life's sensational pleasures.
(Robert Benchley (1889-1945), U.S. writer, humorist. No Poems or Around the World Backwards and Sideways, "Hiccoughing Makes Us Fat," Harper & Brothers (1932).)
West Germans are tall, pert and orthodontically corrected, with hands, teeth and hair as clean as their clothes and clothes as sharp as their looks. Except for the fact that they all speak English pretty well, they're indistinguishable from Americans.
(P.J. (Patrick Jake) O'Rourke (b. 1947), U.S. journalist. repr. In Give War a Chance (1992). "The Death of Communism," Rolling Stone (Nov. 1989).)
I believe in the total depravity of inanimate things ... the elusiveness of soap, the knottiness of strings, the transitory nature of buttons, the inclination of suspenders to twist and of hooks to forsake their lawful eyes, and cleave only unto the hairs of their hapless owner's head.
(Katharine Walker (1840-1916), U.S. author. Atlantic Monthly (Boston, Sept. 1864).)
Prophecy today is hardly the romantic business that it used to be. The old tools of the trade, like the sword, the hair shirt, and the long fast in the wilderness, have given way to more contemporary, mundane instruments of doomthe book, the picket and the petition, the sit-in ... at City Hall.
(Jane Kramer (b. 1938), U.S. author. "The Ranks and Rungs of Mrs. Jacobs' Ladder," Off Washington Square (1963).)
With girls, everything looks great on the surface. But beware of drawers that won't open. They contain a three-month supply of dirty underwear, unwashed hose, and rubber bands with blobs of hair in them.
(Erma Bombeck (20th century), U.S. humorist and author. Motherhood, the Second Oldest Profession, ch. 8 (1983).)
I had my good looks, my blond hair, my height, build, and bullfighting school, I suppose I became one of the Village equivalents of an Eagle Scout badge for the girls. I was one of the credits needed for a diploma in the sexual humanities.
(Norman Mailer (b. 1923), U.S. author. Sergius O'Shaugnessy, in "The Time of Her Time," Advertisements for Myself, p. 485, Putnam's (1959).)