Ah! on Thanksgiving day, when from East and from West, From North and South, come the pilgrim and guest, When the gray-haired New Englander sees round his board The old broken links of affection restored, When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more, And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before. What moistens the lips and what brightens the eye? What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin pie?
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You know because I mean, I remember just in Europe -- in Finland -- I saw this very stately, older man -- grey-haired man and his wife, a grey-haired lady. And he's just sort of standing there and he just had his arms around her. Very emotional,
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If life is a battle, then my inner scars are medals for valor, for swiftness, for courage, for passion. Evil is the dark-haired brother of Good; they walk hand in hand–always.
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I was waiting. I feel like some part of me will always be waiting for you. Like if I'm old and blue-haired, and I turn the corner in Istanbul, and there you are, I won't be surprised... because you're with me, you know?
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But my deepest and most secret love belongs to the fair-haired and the blue-eyed, the bright children of life, the happy, the charming and the...
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It is not these well-fed long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the hungry-looking.
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When red-haired people are above a certain social grade their hair is auburn.
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