Quotes About Admiration

Some people only hate you because of the way other people love you.

No. I simply love Charleston.

You're a sex symbol," she began. "Thanks for noticing.

The woman is the most perfect doll that i have dressed with delight and admiration.

Despereaux marveled at his own bravery. He admired his own defiance. And then, reader, he fainted.

because when beauty awes you, you must halt and try to catch your breath and your staggered heart.

What an astonishing thing, that her praise filled his heart.

It's a scary thing, when a person you admire is suddenly revealed to be absolutely, truly human.

intimidated by her, too, but they recognized her value. Before long

If you want to give up the admiration of thousands of men for the distain of one, go ahead, get married.

The average Hollywood film star's ambition is to be admired by an American, courted by an Italian, married to an Englishman and have a French boyfriend.

We had maybe the greatest success of any company that I know of in Paris, and after two or three years I wanted to do this same number that we did for PBS, so we did it and Paris had always considered us their darlings.

When a Girl's on a pedestal, there's nothing some people would like better than to shove her off it, just to know what kind of noise she'd make when she shattered.

I love to listen to pop music and I admire people who do that, but I don't think I would ever be a very good pop star. I always leave that singing voice for the shower! I wouldn't put it out in the world!

To Marx, it seemed foolish not to love as many things as you could.

They loved him. He was more handsome in front of a crowd; his limp, less apparent; his voice, warm and authoritative. It was as if all these years Sam had been waiting for an audience.

A. J. does not particularly care for writers . . . . He tries to avoid meeting the ones who've written books he loves for fear that they will ruin their books for him.

As he stared at her in hushed wonder, it was as though the world stopped. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, a virginal water nymph, her tender skin flushed and glistening, the long tendrils of her strawberry-blond hair twining around her arms and slender waist, her thin muslin chemise wafting around her elegant hips like the white, delicate flowers of the lily pads she had studied so carefully in the garden. He could barely breathe for sheer worship.

That's funny, you're funny. I like you, I'm quite taken by you.

He loved me. He'd loved me as long as he he'd known me! I hadn't loved him as long perhaps, but now I loved him equally well, or better. I loved his laugh, his handwriting, his steady gaze, his honorableness, his freckles, his appreciation of my jokes, his hands, his determination that I should know the worst of him. And, most of all, shameful though it might be, I loved his love for me.

I knew the sense of integrity I had long admired in him had died, and that I was already grieving for its loss.

It is not fit that men should be compared with gods.

I have three superlative assets. (Four, really. But there is one I prefer not to go into at this time.) First, my legs. Looking at them objectively—as I often do—I consider them as good as any. They are outstanding right from the pelvic region to the toes. Thighs, knees (back and front), calves, ankles, feet, toes—all have been the subjects of spoken as well as unspoken praise.

The sun rises every day. What is to love? Lock the sun in a box. Force the sun to overcome adversity in order to rise. Then we will cheer! I will often admire beautiful sunrise, but I will never consider the sun a champion for having risen.