My hair grows and grows; you cannot stop it – that fellow grows, it grows wild.

When California was wild, it was the floweriest part of the continent.

The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself.

There is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much sex appeal, picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain.

If you want your hair to be thicker, cut it when the moon is about to be full – a heavy, full, waxing moon. Do not cut it when the moon’s waning.

The forests of America, however slighted by man, must have been a great delight to God; for they were the best he ever planted. The whole continent was a garden, and from the beginning, it seemed to be favored above all the other wild parks and gardens of the globe.

I want to grow old without facelifts. I want to have the courage to be loyal to the face I have made.

It’s not possible to stop love.

God sent me on earth. He send me to do something, and nobody can stop me. If God want to stop me, then I stop. Man never can.

I just grew the hair on my back. Facial hair just wasn’t appealing to me. I liked it on my back, though.

Young love is wild and outrageous, laughing at moderation and blinding us to common sense.

I was one of the wildest Santa Clauses they ever had.