Quotes About Tall

Feb. 26, 1841. To be great, we do as if we would be tall merely, be longer than we are broad, stretch ourselves and stand on tiptoe. But greatness is well proportioned, unstrained, and stands on the soles of the feet.

I like green or brown eyes. Tall but not overwhelmingly so. I like men who do yoga and meditate.

I have been tall a long time and learned to deal with it at a young age.

It was Osgood-Schlatters. It wasn't good. It's a growing pains thing, and I had to have a lot of treatment on it. I just shot up immediately and didn't have any kind of physique to deal with it physically. I was tall, all arms and legs, and a bit gangly.

Men from my tribe in Sudan - the Dinka tribe - are very tall, so you could say I was born to play basketball.

It was a burden on all her muscles. A hollow deeper than her bones. She braced herself though, she knew why Atlas stood so tall.

also introduced another controversial feature—an elevator, described as a "perpendicular railway intersecting each story." Theretofore, elevators had been installed only in a few of the taller office buildings.

Remember how last year there were two more girls than guys and I had to be on the guys' side and dance with all the girls? That was a lot of fun. I love being tall.

If Lincoln freed the slaves and preserved the Union, how come 'Lincolnesque' just means tall?

Someone got killed up here.... It was outside. A tall man. He had one leg longer'n the other. And a beard. He was probably a hunter. How'd you know all that? I just trod on 'im.

She had a tall bearing and a tall voice and a tall manner, and was tall in every respect except height. Amazingly, she'd apparently been able to keep this a secret from people.

Granny looked up at the zombie. He was - or, technically, had been - a tall, handsome man. He still was, only now he looked like someone who had walked through a room full of cobwebs. 'What's your name, dead man?' she said.

He was tall, at least six-two or six-three, dressed in a pair of faded jeans that molded to long, muscular legs, and a worn denim shirt that stretched over shoulders the width of an axe handle. He was lean, no extra flesh, yet his movements spoke of power and physical strength. Whoever he was, he needed a haircut.

Canaan was a tall lanky man. As part of the slave force of Nimrod's growing kingdom, he did not receive any more rations than his fellow slaves, and thus he suffered, for the need of his larger frame which rose a head above the others exceeded that of the others. He entered Ishtar's tent behind Sinleqi, moving slowly and unresponsively. His malnourished body looked skeletal, with his eyes sunken in their sockets. The voice of Ishtar boomed across the space, "Welcome, Canaan!

Goddess, ...do not be angry with me about this. I am quite aware that my wife Penelope is nothing like so tall or so beautiful as yourself. She is only a woman, whereas you are an immortal. Nevertheless, I want to get home, and can think of nothing else.

There was something fascinating about tall thin men, the way their bones and Adam's apple lurked so unconcealed beneath the skin, their birdlike faces, their predatory stoop.

I rode out of the stables on top of an eight-foot-tall donkey that looked like she had robbed a Holstein cow and was now wearing the stolen clothes.

Miraculously, the smoke haze was beginning to seep out from the corners of my mind, leaving a sparkling clarity in its wake. I felt incredibly tall, and steady too.

An extremely tall, good-looking young man with long tawny hair was making his way between the tables towards them. At first Daniel was sure he knew this person, but the impression was fleeting, and after only a moment, he realised the newcomer was a stranger.

The man was tall, shrouded in a dark cloak, his face now hidden by a wide-brimmed hat, in which reposed a single magnificent blue feather.

The general was almost exactly as Shan had imagined him: tall, aloof and with a mystifying Mewtish character, as if he continually guarded secrets.

She was tall, with reddish-blond hair and very fair skin. Her voice was musical and she had an attractive, lilting laugh.

She's not my type,' Carter says. 'So what is your type?' 'Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.' 'Skinny?' I squeal. 'Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you're mad about me.' 'You sure about that?' 'No, but I'm hoping.

up her face to argue a point with a tall man, suggested that there was potentiality enough in that lithe slip of humanity for alarming exploits of sex, and daring enough to carry them out. But