Golden Hair Quotes

• Let us have "sweet girl graduates" by all means. They will be none the less sweet for a little wisdom; and the "golden hair" will not curl less gracefully outside the head by reason of there being brains within.

  Thomas Huxley

  Girl, Wisdom, Sweet

  Thomas Henry Huxley (2011). “Collected Essays”, p.73, Cambridge University Press

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• I turned my head and saw the wind,
  Not far from where I stood,
  Dragging the corn by her golden hair,
  Into a dark and lonely wood.

  W. H. Davies

  Lonely, Dark, Hair

  William Henry Davies, “The VILLain”

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• As I accepted the change of the golden hair of my childhood to the reddish-brown hair of my youth without regret, so I also accept my silver hair-and I am ready to accept the time when my hair and the rest of my clay garment returns to the dust from which it came, while my spirit goes on to freer living. It is the season for my hair to be silver, and each season has its lessons to teach. Each season of life is wonderful if you have learned the lessons of the season before. It is only when you go on with lessons unlearned that you wish for a return.

  Peregrino de la paz

  Regret, Dust, Hair

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• She remembered that once, when she was a little girl, she had seen a pretty young woman with golden hair down to her knees in a long flowered dress, and had said to her, without thinking, "Are you a princess?" The girl had laughed very kindly at her and asked her what her name was. Blanche remembered going away from her, led by her mother's hand, thinking to herself that the girl really was a princess, but in disguise. And she had resolved that someday, she would dress as though she were a princess in disguise.

  Regina Doman

  Girl, Mother, Princess

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• Strong winds buffet the sea oats and tall dune grasses, tossing sand and seabirds where it will, winding my sister's golden hair into sunlit spirals of silk until it becomes the only good memory I have of her -- the only memory I allowed myself to keep.

  Karen White

  Strong, Memories, Hair

  Karen White (2008). “The Memory of Water”, p.11, Penguin

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• Within days they'd formed an unholy alliance with a foppish young French vampire in the Garden District who had implausibly golden hair and a streak of ruthlessness as wide as the Mississippi

  Deborah Harkness

  Garden, Hair, Vampire

  Deborah Harkness (2014). “All Souls Trilogy”, p.180, Penguin

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• Tears stung her eyes. She sank her knees next to the sleeping bench and gently raked strands of golden hair from him forehead. "Don't you die. don't you dare. I forbid it." As if Han Alister had ever listened to anything she said.

  Cinda Williams Chima

  Sleep, Eye, Hair

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• Now remember courage, go to the door,Open it and see whether coiled on the bedOr cringing by the wall, a savage beastMaybe with golden hair, with deep eyesLike a bearded spider on a sunlit floorWill snarl-and man can never be alone.

  Allen Tate

  Pared, Hombres, Cabello

  Allen Tate, “The Wolves”

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• The child is not mine as the first was,
  I cannot sing it to rest,
  I cannot lift it up fatherly
  And bliss it upon my breast;
  Yet it lies in my little one's cradle
  And sits in my little one's chair,
  And the light of the heaven she's gone to
  Transfigures its golden hair.

  James Russell Lowell

  Children, Lying, Light

  "The Changeling". Poem by James Russell Lowell, 1879.

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• . . . when the nature of mind is introduced by a master, it is just too simple for us to believe. Our ordinary mind tells us this cannot be, there must be something more to it than this. It must surely be more "glorious", with light blazing in space around us, angels with flowing golden hair swooping down to meet us, and a deep Wizard of Oz voice announcing, "Now you have been introduced to the nature of your mind." There is no such drama.

  Sogyal Rimpoché

  Drama, Believe, Angel

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• Requiescat Pisa suavemente, ella está cerca Bajo la nieve, Habla suavemente, ella puede oír Las margaritas crecen. Toda su brillante cabellera dorada se ha empañado de óxido, Ella, que era joven y hermosa, se ha convertido en polvo. Como un lirio, blanca como la nieve, apenas sabía que era una mujer, tan dulcemente creció. El tablero del ataúd, la pesada piedra, yacen sobre su pecho. Paz, Paz, ella no puede oír Lira o soneto, Toda mi vida está enterrada aquí, Amontona tierra sobre ella.

  Oscar Wilde

  Lying, Heart, White

  Oscar Wilde, Russell Jackson, Ian Small (2000). “The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: Poems and poems in prose”, p.5, Oxford University Press on Demand

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• Daniel's face-- the way it had been bathed in violet light when he'd carried her home this morning-- appeared before her eyes. His gleaming golden hair. His tender, knowing eyes. The way one touch of his lips transported her far away from any darkness. For him, she'd suffer all of this, and more.

  Lauren Kate

  Morning, Eye, Home

  Lauren Kate (2013). “The Fallen Series: 4-Book Collection”, p.273, Delacorte Press

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• Bubble gum angels swooped from top margins or scraped their wings between teeming paragraphs, maidens with golden hair dripped sea blue tears into the books spine, grape-colored whales spouted blood around a newspaper item (pasted in) listing arrivals to the endangered spieces list. Six hatchlings cried from shattered shells near an entry made on Easter. Cecilia had filled the pages with a profusion of colors and curlicues, candyland ladders and striped shamrocks.

  Jeffrey Eugenides

  Easter, Book, Angel

  Jeffrey Eugenides (1993). “The Virgin Suicides: A Novel”, p.29, Macmillan

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