I feel lucky that I found my talent, not unlucky that I was born with a disability. When I'm on a horse, I'm more worried about what the riding hat is doing to my hair than what my bent legs and arms are doing. What riding has given me is respect.
I like to put coconut oil in my hair if it's looking dry. It's so unruly. It has a mind of its own.
My most noticeable physical trait is, hands down, my hair. It's big, unruly and curly, and you can spot it from a mile away... literally.
I'm loving the ingredients that are in Pantene, and it smells so good, and that's important to me. It has cassia and aloe vera. The cassia flower is really good for strengthening hair strands and the aloe is wonderful for moisturizing.
I got makeup tests and hair tests for 'Versailles,' and the main thing they were obsessed with was that my hands were disgusting. I had three years of Irish dirt under my nails. I had to have manicures and everything.
When I decided to crop what was left of my hair, I thought, 'It's all over. I'm never going to work again: it's basket weaving me for me from now on.' But what actually happens is your casting changes: you suddenly start to get a lot of villains and coppers and soldiers and even the odd sensitive vicar - you become institutionalised.
I have great hair because I take a lot of vitamins.
When I do a voiceover now, there are always a few people I've borrowed bits off, whether it's their hats or facial hair, who'll say: 'That's so funny; it's obviously based on this guy.' You think, 'It ain't: it's you.' Actors never think characters are based on them.
I try to keep myself young as possible. I vow to never let my hair go grey.
For me, Mr. T and Donald Trump are the same sort of phenomenon - they're guys with catchphrases and wacky hair.
I'd luv to kiss ya, but I just washed my hair.
Your hair doesn't need to be washed every day any more than your black pants have to be dry-cleaned every time you wear them.
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.
There was this wonderful trick of going to the theater with my parents and sitting in the audience under the watchful eye of an usher, and then these other people would come on the stage: They spoke differently and had different clothes and hair. Afterward, they would come back, and they were my parents again. It was magic.
As for waxing, I've never waxed in my life and I never would. I'm extremely Welsh, so I draw the line at removing body hair.
Old age is far more than white hair, wrinkles, the feeling that it is too late and the game finished, that the stage belongs to the rising generations. The true evil is not the weakening of the body, but the indifference of the soul.
I've said it before, but I'll say it again because you can't say it enough: Your skin is beautiful - dark, light, in the middle, whatever. Brown is beautiful. Your hair is beautiful. If you wear a weave, it's beautiful. If you choose to be natural, that's beautiful. Also, you are enough.
My hair used to be real long, and my parents were encouraged when I cut it. They thought I was going 'straight,' but I was just getting weirder - at least in their eyes. I was getting into the punk thing.
Whipping your hair means not being afraid to be yourself.
I'm not really sick of people whipping their hair. It doesn't really get old. They're fans and I love them! It's just a fun game to play.
