Sami is wearing a wig.

The fish was a poem. That's fine.

I thought Tom had red hair.

It wasn't just only poetry, he says it's God's

In this contest people have to write and recite original poetry, in the Nabati form of poetry, which is the traditional Bedouin form.

And I was writing terrible poetry and knitting sweaters for him.

I would like to have long hair, although it doesn't seem to be working.

So when you compare them to the Bonobo, the Bonobo is a little hairier.

Only he can't tell an Alexandrine from a decasyllabic verse

I don't think there was ever a day where I cut hair I was nervous.

She'd say Ayat, people with curly hair wish they had straight hair, and people with straight hair, wish they had curly hair.

We still have body hair, but we don't look like apes any more.

they became aware of it, and fled to the cities of Lycaonia, Lystra, Derbe, and the surrounding region.

They were ware of it, and fled unto Lystra and Derbe, cities of Lycaonia, and unto the region that lieth round about

And imagine if he had hair sprouting from the middle of his nose, he'd look even odder still.

When men speak of you, they speak of poets music makers, doctors, scientists.

In this contest people have to write and recite original poetry, in the Nabati form of poetry, which is the traditional Bedouin form.

But I had the presence of mind to give the teachers' classes that I cut the pottery that I made, (Laughter) and they gave me passing grades.

They argued that they had insurmountable conscientious objections to the fact that part of their income tax would help to finance military expenditures.

But I had the presence of mind to give the teachers' classes that I cut the pottery that I made, and they gave me passing grades.

Two foreigners once stood in Red Square in Moscow looking up at the Kremlin and they were in awe.

Although America and the West may have felt as if jihadist terrorism was declining in its ferocity, in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India, no such feeling of false security ever took hold.

Today, on election day in the United States, African bloggers have offered solidarity to Obama, a Venezuelan blogger wrote a poem about the impossibility of a Black man winning the election, and in Paris bloggers are planning parties, parties, parties.

G. His Majesty King Hussein and Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin have agreed to meet periodically or whenever they feel necessary to review the progress of the negotiations and express their firm intention to shepherd and direct the process in its entirety.

As it turns out, the photograph was not of Madeleine McCann, but of a two year old Moroccan girl named Bouchra Benaissa, whose blonde hair and light eyes are not uncommon to the region.

After all, who would have predicted a World Cup final between France and Italy? It looks as if the national teams of the two sick men of Europe, felt obliged to change their countries images in the world.