As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie/ Couched on the bald top of an eminence.

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A man can be short and dumpy and getting bald but if he has fire, women will like him

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It was a transmogrifying bee Came droning down on Chucky's old bald head And sat and put the poison. It scarcely bled,

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Flabby, bald, lobotomized, he drifted in a sheepish calm,...

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Some people are under the impression that all that is required to make a good fisherman is the ability to tell lies easily and without blushing; but this is a mistake. Mere bald fabrication is useless; the veriest tyro can manage that. It is in the circumstantial detail, the embellishing touches of probability, the general air of scrupulous -- almost of pedantic -- veracity, that the experienced angler is seen.

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Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.

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Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.

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There once was a Bald Man who sat down after work on a hot summer's day. A Fly came up and kept buzzing about his bald pate, and stinging him from time to time. The Man aimed a blow at his little enemy, but - whack - his palm come on his own head instead; again the Fly tormented him, but this time the Man was wiser and said: ''YOU WILL ONLY INJURE YOURSELF IF YOU TAKE NOTICE OF DISPICABLE ENEMIES.''

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When their city was occupied by the Gauls, and the Romans, who were besieged in the Capitol, had made military engines from the hair of the women, they dedicated a temple to the Bald Venus.

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But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head grown slightly bald brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet--and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.

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Wisdom is a comb given to a man once he is bald.

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There once was a Bald Man who sat down after work on a hot summer's day. A Fly came up and kept buzzing about his bald pate, and stinging him from time to time. The Man aimed a blow at his little enemy, but - whack - his palm come on his own head instead; again the Fly tormented him, but this time the Man was wiser and said: YOU WILL ONLY INJURE YOURSELF IF YOU TAKE NOTICE OF DISPICABLE ENEMIES.

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And indeed there will be time/ To wonder, Do I dare? and, Do I dare?/ Time to turn back and descend the stair,/ With a bald spot in the middle of my hair. . ./ Do I dare/ Disturb the universe?

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My veins are filled, once a week with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats.

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It is not growing like a tree in bulk doth make man better be Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere, A lily of a day is fairer in May Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant of flower and light, In small proportions we just beauties see And in short measures, life may perfect be.

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The blind man is laughing at the bald head.

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It is not growing like a tree in bulk doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere, A lily of a day is fairer in May Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant of flower and light, In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures, life may perfect be.

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If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen.
Nature

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If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen.

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All beliefs are bald ideas.

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Philanthropist. A rich (and usually bald) old gentleman who has trained himself to grin while his conscience is picking his pocket.

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Experience is the comb that nature gives us when we are bald.

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We can lie in the language of dress or try ot tell the truth; but unless we are naked and bald, it is impossible to be silent.

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Seize opportunity by the beard, for it is bald behind.

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Calling Atheism a religion is like calling bald a hair color.

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I don't consider myself bald, I'm just taller than my hair.

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Experience is a comb which nature gives to men when they are bald.

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The tenderest spot in a man's make-up is sometimes the bald spot on top of his head.

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