Pastoral Resources

This head has risen above its hair in a moment of abandon known only to men who have drawn their feet out of their boots to walk awhile in the corridors of the mind.

The name of my condition is Cartilage Hair Syndrome Hypoplasia, but you can just call me Billy.

I paint German artists whom I admire. I paint their pictures, their work as painters, and their portraits too. But oddly enough, each of these portraits ends up as a picture of a woman with blonde hair. I myself have never been able to work out why this happens.

I can't bear looking in the mirror - I guess that's why my hair looks like this.

When I was in college, I used to write little ditties and short stories and poetry for my friends. Writing a book is another thing. It is so much different from my traditional day of dirty fingernails and greasy hair and hot pans.

I wish I had more hair on my head. Maybe if I sprinkled fertilizer on it, it would grow.

I must say also that it's never worked to my disadvantage that I have long, blond hair.

It's a hard thing to age a character because you can't really suddenly give someone gray hair.

Even drawing gray hair at all is difficult to render in black and white.

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.

I had long hair when I was a teenager.

I also said, men are like curling irons, they never get out of your hair. And they are like government bonds, they take so long to mature.

I didn't figure out the makeup or cute hair or clothes until oh, maybe my junior year of high school.

It was a huge shock. I've never had hair that short in my life! I think the rest of the cast and crew were mourning my haircut more than I was! But after a while, I felt liberated, I learned to embrace it.

So many actors wear wigs nowadays. Besides, if someone is hiring me because of how I wear my hair, I don't want to work with them anyway.

I turned my hair dark and have received much better parts ever since.

But there's so much kludge, so much terrible stuff, we are at the 1908 Hurley washing machine stage with the Internet. That's where we are. We don't get our hair caught in it, but that's the level of primitiveness of where we are. We're in 1908.

I'm a very outgoing person. I'm always happy, I'm one of those people who are always smiling. If somebody described me to somebody else, they'd say the kid with the curly hair with the big smile on his face. I get along with everybody.

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

One who hates is a man holding a magnifying-glass, and when he hates someone, he knows precisely that person's surface, from the soles of his feet all the way up to each hair on the hated head.