Quotes About Admiration

When we are proud of someone, they bask in the glow of our appreciation, as do we when we are appreciated.

As God is my witness, I could do nothing but look upon her till the end of my days. I would need nothing else to keep me alive.

I could write an epic poem about your thighs." "That would amuse polite society rather too much, and I wouldn't like that." "I wouldn't either." She pressed her cheek to his belly. "I can't think of a word to rhyme with marble column.

Ah, Lord Northcliff, how well you look this afternoon!" "Thank you. I feel well indeed." Taking Amy's hand, he held it in both of his. "As long as my princess is nigh.

He looked directly at her. His gaze softened. His voice became that purr of blandishment that sent shivers up her spine. "No, MacLean men recognize beauty in their women, and once they find their one true love, they see beauty nowhere else.

Raven stared up at his face, drinking in the strong lines and the way he looked at her with something close to adoration. She smiled at him. "I think you've managed to put some kind of spell on me." "If I did," he whispered, "it backfired, and I managed to ensnare myself as well.

He was beginning to fall for her hard. It had nothing to do with her looks, and everything to do with her intellect and brightness.

I told you I loved you because I do. Absolutely I do. Every minute I spend in your company, I find I love you more." A slow smile curved his mouth and he lay back against the pillows. "I knew you'd fall for me, woman. It's the way I wash dishes, isn't it?" "Yes, I can't lie about that.

You're a miracle, woman. Draden meant it.

I love how you always want me, Abbey. Do you have any idea what a gift that is to a man?" Her fingers caressed the hair on his neck. "Do you have any idea what a gift it is to have a man look at me the way you do?

So beautiful. He murmured the words aloud. He thought them in his head. Tucked them somewhere close. Her hair was beautiful, but so was her soul. That half she unknowingly held for him, it was beautiful as well. So much light in so small a package.

You're so beautiful, Dax. Your heart. Your soul. I don't think I could ever find a better man.

She looked at him with an expression far too close to reverence. Bordering on real adoration. Real. He didn't get real. He didn't even deserve it.

He didn't look as if he owned her, but as if she was his, cherished and treasured and beautiful to him

Communication is very important between us at all times. He bent his head as he lifted the hair from the back of her neck. For instance, I find your neck incredibly sexy. You look both vulnerable and sensual with your hair up. With it down, you look wild and beautiful. Just as sensual, but in a completely different way.

She kissed him, her body molding to his, and in his mind her beautiful voice rose in song just for him. The notes skipped from his mind to the sky, silver and gold notes of joy and happiness, of courage and admiration. She sang of love between two people, sacred and beautiful. She sang of peace and happiness. Her hands moved over him possessively, lovingly, checking his body for wounds. Her warrior was home. Whatever

Stefano's the oldest. He has four brothers, equally hot. One sister, totally beautiful. When they walk around together, people just stare at them. That's how hot they are. Each one is supercool as well, which makes them scorching hot. I'm a little in love with them, including their sister. That's how totally gorgeous they are.

Thank you, Mikhail, for my blue jeans." She gave him a faint smile over her shoulder. He found her mysterious, sexy, innocent, and so very fragile. In the depths of her blue eyes he could find no anger, no blame, only love for him shining there. "I am happy you like them, although I still say they are garb for men, not a beautiful woman. I was hoping they would make you smile." "Only because you get that pained look on your face.

Jacques nuzzled the warmth of her neck, lazily slid his attentions lower to the invitation of her full breasts. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" "No, but you can tell me if you want," she encouraged, circling his neck with her slender arms.

She couldn't help herself; she reached up to trace that incredible smile with the pad of her finger. Who had a mouth like that? Who had such white, perfect teeth and such beautiful eyes? "You should be pretty with all those lashes," she murmured, still not certain if she was dreaming. "But your face is a little too rugged to be feminine." He caught her fingers and bit gently on them. "I'm thankful for that, at least.

We make no saint of Thomas Jefferson—we leave the mindless business of canonization and the worship of humans to the fanatics—but aware as we are of his many crimes and contradictions we say with confidence that his memory and example will endure long after the moral pygmies who try to blot out his name have been forgotten.

Compliment but do not covet.

They agreed, tacitly, to admire—but not covet—the red flowers. Mrs. Korjev liked the very redness of them. She had always been angry that the Communists had co-opted that color, for otherwise it would have evoked an unbridled happiness in her. Then again, the Russian soul, conditioned by a thousand years of angst, really wasn't equipped for unbridled happiness, so it was probably for the best.

Of course you like him; everyone enjoys flattery.