You see, I'd not a very good place here; the fellows looked on me as a sort of special object of ridicule, on account of the hat and cane, walk, and so on, though I thought I'd got over that by this time.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
When people come and visit me and have a hat made, it's a little bit like visiting a psychiatrist, but they don't actually realize that.
My grandmother used to embarrass me more, when she would pick me up from school wearing a big fuzzy hat. I didn't like that.
I used to wear disguises, like hats and false beards, just to walk around and avoid attention.
I have thousands and thousands of hats. Some are the most outrageous hats in the world. They are my disguise. I hide beneath them.
People don't tend to hassle me because when I've got a hat on, I look like a banker. I'm just a plain guy.
I can't walk down the street with my head up. I'm not a hat wearer, but now I'm a hat wearer.
I don't think you should go around talking trash about people because I think that's how you get your hat handed to you.
I was born into an artistic family, and they understood me. But they were really worried, because some of the stuff I did was dangerous. If I'd been caught without the veil with a shaved head, I don't know what would have happened.
All my heroes wore coats and ties to work. What happened to men wearing hats? Maybe I should bring back hats.
I'm not a hat person. I really don't like wearing things on my head.