Quotes About Admiration

I saw then how I had changed. I did not mind anymore that I lost when we raced and I lost when we swam out to the rocks and I lost when we tossed spears or skipped stones. For who could be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win.

Aquiles estaba lleno de gracia, como una bendición, y los hombres alzaban los rostros hacia él como los fieles se orientan hacía un sacerdote.

i did not mind anymore that i lost when we raced and i lost when we swam out to the rocks and i lost we tossed spears or skipped stones. for who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kciked up the sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled throuhg the salt. it was enough.

Se inclinaban hacia él como las flores hacia el sol, ávidos de recibir su brillo. Era lo que había dicho Ulises una vez: él tenía luz suficiente para hacerles héroes a todos.

De pronto, todos recordamos haber oído hablar de su piel dorada y sus ojos negros y centelleantes como la obsidiana que trocábamos por nuestras olivas. Y en ese momento, ella valió más que todos los presentes apilados en el centro, y aún más, ella valía más que nuestras vidas

i did not mind anymore that i lost when we raced and i lost when we swam out to the rocks and i lost when we tossed spears or skipped stones. for who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kciked up the sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled throuhg the salt. it was enough.

Quise despertarle para verle abrir los párpados, un espectáculo del que nunca me cansaba a pesar de haberlo visto miles de veces.

I did not think-'' He could not say it, could not put all his hopes into the proper words. I did not think you could love me. I did not think I could be enough for you to stay. You are the earth, the sky, the sun and the stars and I cannot fathom all that you are, all that you mean to me.

I did not mind anymore that I lost when we raced and I lost when we swam out to the rocks and I lost when we tossed spears or skipped stones. For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?

I did not mind anymore that I lost when we raced and I lost when we swam out to the rocks and I lost when we tossed spears or skipped stones. For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kicked up sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled through the salt. It was enough.

For who can be be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win.

If he was nervous, even I could not tell. I watched as he greeted them, spoke ringing words that made them stand up straighter. They grinned, loving every inch of their miraculous prince: his gleaming hair, his deadly hands, his nimble feet. They leaned toward him, like flowers to the sun, drinking in his luster. It was as Odysseus had said: he had light enough to make heroes of them all.

I looked down at his thick, black hair, shining in the sunset light, his strong shoulders bowing low. This is what all those gods in our halls longed for, such worship. I thought perhaps he had not done it right, or more likely, I had not. All I wanted was to see his face again.

I always thought I should be treated like a star.

Why would she ever want to behold anything else, when she could be taking in the sight of Susanna's ears, like the pale folds of roses, the winglike sweep of her tiny eyebrows, the dark hair, which clings to her crown as if painted there with a brush? There is nothing more exquisite to her than her child: the world could not possibly contain a more perfect being, anywhere, ever.

What do you think, Father said, and I said, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and she was, she was—

You are so beautiful," he breathed. Standing over her, rampant in the moonlight, he gazed down at her body. "You are as lovely and as perfect as I imagined you would be." Afraid to believe, afraid to trust, she dared a look at him and felt her heart wrench when she read his expression and understood that she truly was whole and beautiful in his eyes. She was a magnificent to him as he was to her.

I'm not a fetishist, but I love feet. When I see feet, it's simply beautiful.

I have no problem going on record with this and probably have gone on record with this before, there aren't that many people who I respect. There just aren't.

It's nice to know that people appreciate and respect you.

I had caught my dear superman red-handed in the act of being human: I felt that I loved him even more for it.

In a recluse, the most irrevocable, lifelong rejection of the world often has as its basis an uncontrolled passion for the crowd, of such force that, finding when he does go out that he cannot win the admiration of a concierge, passers-by or even the coachman halted at the corner, he prefers to spend his life out of their sight, and gives up all activities which would make it necessary for him to leave the house.

I was genuinely in love with Mme. de Guermantes. The greatest happiness that I could have asked of God would have been that He should overwhelm her under every imaginable calamity, and that ruined, despised, stripped of all the privileges that divided her from me, having no longer any home of her own or people who would condescend to speak to her, she should come to me for refuge. I imagined her doing so.

In the case of the solitary, his seclusion, even when it is absolute and ends only with life itself, has often as its primary cause a disordered love of the crowd, which so far overruled every other feeling that, not being able to win, when he goes out, the admiration of his hall-porter, of the passers-by, of the cabman whom he hails, he prefers not to be seen by them at all, and with that object abandons every activity that would oblige him to go out of doors.