“Someday you will name me, then gently place those burning holy roses in my hair.[Songs of Longing]”
“My hair is holy. I grow it long for the God.”
“Oh, I burned it with my straightener.”“You burned your leg with your straightener? How long is your leg hair?”
“And his hair was free, no ponytail, no braid, the long thickness of it waved and curled down his back, over his shoulders and next to his face. I felt my lungs start burning. Holy freaking moly… my husband was hot!”
“The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.”
“For a long time, Oliver remained motionless in this attitude. The candle was burning low in the socket when he rose to his feet. Having gazed cautiously round him, and listened intently, he gently undid the fastenings of the door, and looked abroad.”