I'm undaunted in my quest to amuse myself by constantly changing my hair.

Why don't you get a haircut? You look like a chrysanthemum.

The Death of Advertising? I think that's in the book of Revelation. It's the day when people everywhere become satisfied with their weight, their hair, their skin, their wardrobe, and their aroma.

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.

Inflation is when you pay fifteen dollars for the ten-dollar haircut you used to get for five dollars when you had hair.

America is a large friendly dog in a small room. Every time it wags its tail it knocks over a chair.

You can't deny laughter; when it comes, it plops down in your favorite chair and stays as long as it wants.

What's with you men? Would hair stop growing on your chest if you asked directions somewhere?

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

If Jesus had been killed twenty years ago, Catholic school children would be wearing little electric chairs around their necks instead of crosses.

Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere.

I'm the artist formally known as Beck. I have a genius wig. When I put that wig on, then the true genius emerges. I don't have enough hair to be a genius. I think you have to have hair going everywhere.

The hair is real - it's the head that's a fake.

Like all New York hotel lady cashiers she had red hair and had been disappointed in her first husband.

I think that the most important thing a woman can have - next to talent, of course - is her hairdresser.

I'd luv to kiss ya, but I just washed my hair.