Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Plaiting. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Plaiting Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Vidal Sassoon,Henri Cole,Martin Gayford,Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe,Eddie O'sullivan for you to enjoy and share.
For me the working of hair is architecture with a human element.
the wrinkled sleeve of the head
Eight years ago, I wouldn't have painted this subject I'm starting now: a clearing filled with grasses. It would have seemed too much of a jumble. I had to keep looking and drawing, and looking. Now, because of all that time I spent drawing these grasses, I know what I'm looking for.
Smoothly and lightly the golden seed by the furrow is covered.
It's a dimissive term to say the Irish team are plucky because it rings back to the old days when we went out and gave it a lash, set our hair on fire and ran after the opposition for 20 minutes and, if they survived that, they beat us by 50 points.
He plough on Sunday, Sir.
Plough on Sunday?!
fashioned of flowing silk or jersey,
The method preferred by most balding men for making themselves look silly is called the comb over.
Doth the plowman plow all day to sow? doth
I didn't bother to put shoes on. Finger-combing
Again, do you call those men leisured who spend many hours at the barber's simply to cut whatever grew overnight, to have a serious debate about every separate hair, to tidy up disarranged locks or to train thinning ones from the sides to lie over the forehead?
The plough is to the farmer what the wand is to the sorcerer. Its effect is really like sorcery.
Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
What's a wingding? Why, a wingding is, uh ... it's just like a shindig but without all the hullabaloo.
Twisting lemons into lemonade.
To fish someone out of the men's loos.
Dry-humping, I believe it's called.
The most acrobatic thing that goes on here is a synchronized hair flip.
Loaming is my special word for it..it's a combination of looming and roaming
she was always careful to brush and re-braid her hair, making sure the blond plaits were straight
Let a man take time enough for the most trivial deed, though it be but the paring of his nails. The buds swell imperceptibly, without hurry or confusion,
as if the short spring days were an eternity.
Iwas a sculptor.Butthat'sreallydrawinga drawing you fall over in the dark, a three-dimensional drawing.
What's with the hair today?" He pokes it for good measure.
"I was tired this morning."
"Uh-huh. I can tell. You look like you brushed it with a fork."
"Worked for Ariel."
"Doesn't work for you.
Placid, adj.
Sometimes I love it when we just lie on our backs, gaze off, stay still.
And how to paint your lovely hands, fluttering over the silks like two dark birds?
row of stitches.
Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.
Fighting with tangles,
fighting with curls,
the poor barber yanked,
the poor barber pulled,
until with one last effort
(and to the wonder of us all)
a GINORMOUS Polar Bear
landed on the floor.
Lizzing is a combination of laughing and whizzing.
Well, I am ploughing on my canvases as they do on their fields (the peasants). It goes badly enough in our profession - in fact that has always been so, but at the moment it is very bad.
Maybe I can braid your hair, and we can talk about our life goals." Sarah wrinkles her nose. "Or maybe you can check to see whether I'm wearing panties or not." "So hair braiding is out?" "Uh, yeah, unless it's a euphemism for taking your clothes off.
Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run.
Repooping is the purest form of pooping
On turf and curb and bower-roof
The snow-storm spreads its ivory woof;
It paves with pearl the garden-walk;
And lovingly around the tatter'd stalk
And snivering stem its magic weaves
A mantle fair as lily-leaves.
Stepping forth to replenish it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps
A pound of pluck is worth a ton of luck.
allowed two very long cascading curls to slip out and brush one shoulder. Her maid had dressed her hair and pulled out long golden streaks to twirl lazily against
It is curious how in English embroideries there has always been a predilection on the part of the designers for interlacing stems, and for the inconsequent introduction of birds and beasts.
You can't keep your feet on the ground, hoping to enjoy the fruits of your labour. The fruits are on the top; keep climbing till you pluck them with your hands!
Oh! Do not excite yourself. Shall I say that he interested me because he was trying to grow a mustache and as yet the result is poor." Poirot stroked his own magnificent mustache tenderly. "It is an art," he murmured, "the growing of the mustache! I have sympathy for all who attempt it.
I'll be contacting Webster tomorrow. My suggestion will be absofuckingmazing.
Dancingiseverything,' continued the Sheep Man. 'Danceintip-topform. Dancesoitallkeepsspinning. Ifyoudothat, wemightbeabletodosomethingforyou. Yougottadance. Aslongasthemusicplays.
Feathers needed, swan preferred.
Stotting is jumping upward with all four legs simultaneously. My advice: do not die until you've seen a large black poodle stotting in the snow.
If everybody floated with the tide of talk, placidity would soon end in stagnation. It is the strong>strongstrong> backward stroke which stirs the ripples, and gives animation and variety.
Well," said Adam, as Poirot went out. "First girls' knees, and now draughtsmanship! What next, I wonder!
I'll braid you one.
My hair was slicked down with a part. But that was before I discovered the blow-dryer. Now I'm fabulous.
It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling.
She scissored the curls away, and - toms, grow easily sentimental over their haircuts, but I remember this sensation very vividly - it was not like she was cutting hair, it was as if I had a pair of wings beneath my shoulder-blades, that the flesh had all grown over, and she was slicing free ...
This is what art is all about. It is weaving fabric from the feathers you have plucked from your own breast. But no one must ever see the process - only the finished bolt of goods. They must never suspect that that crimson thread running through the pattern is blood.
gathering flowers so very delicate a girl
ONE DAY, COCK OF THE WALK - NEXT DAY, A FEATHER DUSTER
Blonde tangles flying everywhere and her diamond-laden hand wrapped around Jess's strong, bare torso. She looked happy and so did Jess.-From Siddy Creek
No female iniquity was more severely condemned [in the 14th century] than the habit of plucking eyebrows and the hairline to heighten the forehead.
My hair was growin' too long, so I got me a fade
And when my dishes got dirty, I got cascade
And When the weather was hot, I got a spot in the shade.
The examples seemed to fall into two categories: girls who used sweetness and girls who used pluck.
The way his hair draped in a sideways S. Flawless and secure. A wish blown off a dry dandelion.
Ducking around twisted trees whose fingers are branches spread like cracked ceilings under gray sky.
I never let anyone pluck, including myself, unless my mom approves. She guards my eyebrows. She's like the eyebrow police!
Sleeping. The word came out with an adorable lack of anything resembling an L, closer to something you'd do with a broom than in a bed.
breathtakingly lewd exhibition of modesty.
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
Thing that I know how to do,
Let's escape outside," Isabelle suggested. "Do you have any other talents?"
"I bake and garden."
"Do you sew, too?"
Amber nodded. "I sew whenever anger incites me to mutilation."
Isabelle laughed. "One cannot hang for attacking a piece of cloth.
Only a Mahican would bring a comb to war." Connor rolled his eyes, then leaned in as if about to tell Amalie a great secret, lowering his voice to a whisper. "It helps them keep their feathers pretty."
-Connor about Joesph
Poise was keeping your knees and your lips together, your eyebrows and your nostrils apart.
I was the solitary plover
a pencil
for a wing-bone
From the secret notes
I must tilt
upon the pressure
execute and adjust
In us sea-air rhythm
We live by the urgent wave
of the verse
Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes - like the small flakes that come when it is going to snow all night
- little flakes of me, my impressions, my selections, are settling down on the image of her. The real shape wil be quite hidden in the end.
It's kind of a language I've developed over time that's basically breaking up the face into components and planes. Inside each plane, I draw gradation marks, and when planes come together, they form sinews, a hairlike weave that's like a landscape of the face.
Shined, combed, brushed and gorgeous
What need for feathers now? What need to confirm their loss? While the womb-red sky swelled with the promise of tomorrow, and he rode the warm, crimson currents, skimming, wheeling and gliding.
I get a lot of credit for comb-overs. But it's not really a comb-over. It's sort of a little bit forward and back. I've combed it the same way for years. Same thing, every time.
Jolly boating weather,
And a hay harvest breeze,
Blade on the feather,
Shade off the trees.
Prose is like hair; it shines with combing.
Anyone can pluck a flower ... true strength is knowing how to give it life.
striving for fabulousness.
I've got feathers in my hair,
I get down to beat poetry.
Canoodling, I see.
Swift speedy time, feathered with flying hours, Dissolves the beauty of the fairest brow.
Can you row?" the Sheep asked, handing her a pair of knitting-needles as she spoke.
"Yes, a little
but not on land
and not with needles
" Alice was beginning to say.
of grass, watching the
Delicate hairpins twinkled through the air, moving effortlessly to hold her fringe from her eyes. She didn't glance to the hairpins. But she didn't touch them, either.
Everyone wants to pluck eyebrows. I thinned them out real thin once and it just didn't look like me.
Laying out grounds ... may be considered as a liberal art, in some sort like poetry and painting ... it is to assist Nature in moving the affections ... the affections of those who have the deepest perception of the beauty of Nature ...
We saw men haying far off in the meadow, their heads waving like the grass which they cut. In the distance the wind seemed to bend all alike.
You don't gather the beauty of a flower by plucking her petals.
Tangle me up like Grandma's yarn,
O, to bring back the great Homeric time, The simple manners and the deed sublime: When the wise Wanderer, often foiled by Fate, Through the long furrow drave the ploughshare straight.
Everywhere on the Continent, the tourist is looked upon as a bird to be plucked, and presently the bird himself feebly comes to regard plucking as his proper destiny and abjectly holds out his wing so long as there is a feather left on it.
The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.
When the April wind wakes the call for the soil, I hold the plough as my only hold upon the earth, and, as I follow through the fresh and fragrant furrow, I am planted with every foot-step, growing, budding, blooming into a spirit of spring.
hair that she often pinned back with
His hair is like feathers.
Being a celebrity stylist, there are many tricks of the trade that I use in my house and with my clients.
From this vantage point in the summer, the countryside below is a dreaming checkerboard over which it seems that one could, with a running start, spread one's arms and fly.
Most stuff you can do standing on your head.
Her hair is troublesome and curly ... It falls in long, black strands, but each strand has a gentle, complicated undulation travelling through it, like a mild electric shock or a thrill, hat gives it a life of its own; it is visually analogous to a tremolo on a musical note.
Hair excited me. As the old ways - backcombing, rollers and rigidity - went out of the window, I started to feel the possibilities in front of my eyes.
The side whiskers indeed were quite handsome. But he stroked them so very zealously that looking at him, one might very well think that first just the side whiskers had been brought into the world, and then later the gentleman was attached to them in order to stroke them.