Best 280 quotes in «admire quotes» category

What a woman most admires in a man is distinction among men. What a man most admires in a woman is devotion to himself.

What do you call a bad man? The sort of man who admires innocence.

What each man honours before all else, what before all things he admires and loves, this for him is God.

What I actually admire in Perl is its ability to provide a very successful abstraction of the horrible mess that is collectively called Unix.

What is the easiest, the most comfortable thing for a writer to do? To congratulate the society in which he lives: to admire its biceps, applaud its progress, tease it endearingly about its follies.

What we admire we praise; and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.

When I admire a writer, it's for the recognizable palette - Hemingway's minimalism, the dialogue, those isolated bar scenes. But with each story or novel, he shows me something different within the framework he's built - like noticing that there's a chair in the corner I didn't see in another story.

Whenever I watch someone doing something, even if it doesn't turn out so great, I at least admire their intentions and stuff.

When people respect someone as a person, they admire her. When they respect her as a friend, they love her. When they respect her as a leader, they follow her.

When works of art are presented like rare butterflies on the walls, they're decontextualized. We admire their beauty, and I have nothing against that, per se. But there is more to art than that.

When summer is over, winter becomes sad too, because opposites often admire each other secretly!

Who does not more admire Cicero as an author than as a consul of Rome?

When you get praise from someone that you really admire it's really surreal.

When you recognize God as Creator, you will admire Him. When you recognize His wisdom, you will learn from Him. When you discover His strength, you will rely on Him. But only when He saves you will you worship Him.

Yes, there are directors I admire, the mavericks. Altman. There are many good directors.

You are not your poetry. Your self-esteem shouldn't depend on whether you publish, or whether some editor or writer you admire thinks you're any good.

You always admire what you really don't understand. - Eleanor Roosevelt

A spark of every fire we seek is already within us.

You can be totally involved, you could admire just the shape of or you could be totally emotionally mushed up into the dance.

You learn as much from failure as from success, Dad always says. Though no one admires you for it.

You will never go wrong in concluding that a man has once loved deeply whatever he hates, and loves it yet; that he once admired and still admires what he scorns, that he once greedily desired what now disgusts him.

A celebrity farts, and everyone endures, but the unpopular will be thrased to death.

An adventure is nothing but a story. After the adventure ends, it’s nothing but a memory; a shadow of a life you lived. People will envy you for the time it takes you to tell the story. But after that, what then? I think people admire you more for becoming a teacher. I really do.

Art is the greatest opportunity to admire the human mind!

Creativity is admired only if it solves the problem.

Audiences will admire your character’s strength but connect with them through their weakness.

Don't expect everyone to admire this world is made up of hate and fire.

For the first time in his life, a teacher was pointing out things that Ender had not already seen for himself. For the first time, Ender had found a living mind he could admire.

During these hard times in the world we should always remember to keep our families and friends close.

For the first time, Ender had found a living mind he could admire.

I admire successful men and women who endured and overcome unusual circumstances to fulfill their dreams.

Hands grab me, steady me. I jerk back, but they are surprisingly gentle. He doesn’t smile as I turn to see his face. He just stands there, letting me inspect him. He’s tall with a wide forehead and dark blond hair that’s cut short. His green eyes are deeply set beneath that forehead. His lips are wide and rugged like the rest of him. His hands have huge knuckles like he’s a boxer or arthritic or hits walls. He looks like he did when he pulled me out of the car, but stronger, taller somehow. He must be completely healed. He looks my age and he looks good, like the guy in high school that everyone, even the teachers, fall in love with.

He found something that he wanted, had always wanted and always would want -- not to be admired, as he had feared; not to be loved, as he had made himself believe; but to be necessary to people, to be indispensable...'very few things matter and nothing matters very much

His eyes are so beautiful and dark and they do look like that dog’s—I mean, that wolf’s. They are kind and strong and a little bit something else and I like them. I like them a lot. No, I like them way too much. Something inside me gets a little warmer, edges closer to him. The fire crackles and I jump again, jittery, nervous, but I don’t jump away from Nick. I jump toward him. Nick in the firelight with just a blanket on is a little hard to resist, no matter how crazy he might be. His skin, deep with heat, seems to glisten. His muscles are defined and good but not all steroid bulky. He is so perfect. And beautiful. In a boy way. Not a monster way. Not a wolf way. “Are you going to kiss me?” My words tremble into the air. He smiles but doesn’t answer. “I’ve never kissed a werewolf before. Are were kisses like pixie kisses? Do they do something to you? Is that why you never kissed anybody?” He gives a little smile. “No. It’s just I never kissed anyone because I never thought I could be honest about who I am, you know? And I didn’t want anyone to get attached to me because . . .” “Because you’re a werewolf.” “Because I’m a werewolf,” he repeats softly. Watching his lips move makes me shiver; not in a scared way, in more of an oh-he-is-too-beautiful way. I put my hand against his skin. It is warm. It’s always been warm. He smells so good, like woods and safety. I swallow my fear and move forward, and my lips meet his, angel-light, a tiny promise. His lips move beneath mine. His hands move to my shoulders and my mouth feels like it will burst with happiness. My whole body shakes with it. “Wow,” I say. “Yeah,” he says. “Wow.” Our mouths meet again. It’s like my lips belong there . . . right there. One tiny part of me has finally found a place to fit.

... I admire.... your foolish determination....

If a man admires a woman he had something in his mind that he would like to carry further. If a woman admires a man, she had definitely made up her mind.

I don’t want to make a big deal about this or anything, but I think it’s kind of cool how you do everything you do.” I squinted at him. “I mean, you use sign language, and it’s hard to communicate. But you’re into art and you can seriously cook and, for goodness’ sakes, you can even jitterbug. By the way, I told my mom, and she wants a video. Totally doesn’t believe me. But, yeah, I think it’s nice that you don’t let a little hitch in life slow you down. I admire that.” I smiled. For a minute, I admired myself, too. He didn’t know how deep my problems ran, but he was right all the same. It was no small thing to try, to find out what you cared about in life. Even this moment, with this wonderful, temporary boy beside me, was a tiny miracle. I ought to give myself some credit.

I do not intend to tip-toe through life, but to arrive safely at death.

I'm the biggest critic of my own work, but sometimes you nail a chapter so good that you have to take a step back and admire that bitch.

I find myself pausing to admire her face. For a brief moment, I'm lost to my surroundings.

My heart does not desire what my eyes does not admire.

It was good to be admired for something. Everyone should feel that way sometimes, he thought.

Love is an admiration that comes with patience. Lust is an admiration that comes with impatience. In all, admiration is common but patience is not!

I once read a question that somone used to begin their self-assessment: who do you most admire and why? If you are an american and have a TV in your house, you'd probably be tempted to list some sports figure, actor, singer, artist, successful businessman, or influential leader. We have been led to equate greatness with success, talent, power and recognition. Would we include on our list a single mom or dad who has faithfully served their family, the person who volunteers at the soup kitchen or homeless shelter, the guy who shovels snow for the elderly couple down the street or the soldier serving somewhere around the globe?

My approach is different. My mistakes are conscious mistakes. And I learn more than those I despise way too often than those I admire.

Plus je vois le homes, plus j’admire les chiens” (The more I see of men, the more I admire dogs).

Nick saunters into the gym and my heart basically stops. He’s ridiculously cute in his PE shorts and dark green T-shirt; and people that good-looking seem vulnerable, almost like they can’t be real. He’s real, though. He’s all dark skin and dark hair and dark eyes. Okay. His eyebrows, like Devyn’s nose, are a little big and if you stare at him long enough you realize that his lips are a bit lopsided. I have kissed his lips. I have felt his breath in my ear and I know without a doubt that he’s real, even if he is a werewolf. The massive muscles in his legs redefine themselves as he walks toward me. He waves a late pass at the coach and yells, “Sorry I’m late. I’ve got a pass.” “Not a problem, buddy,” Coach yells back. He and Nick are all jock bonding. Nick pockets the note, which is probably a fake. I can smell his deodorant even though he’s still far away. There are these things called pheromones, odors that guys give off to attract women. I swear his pheromones have my freaking name written on them. They hone in and attack. “You are getting all swoony faced,” Issie tells me with her singsong voice. She pokes me in the ribs with her elbow, gently. She turns to Devyn, who is smiling like a crazy man, just hanging back in his wheelchair watching the scene. “Dev. Look at Zara. She’s got her lovey-dovey look on.” As Is gazes at Devyn with her own lovey-dovey look, he says, “Yeah. Teen love. So obvious. So hormonal.” “I am not hormonal.” I fake glare at him.

Once you start questioning your beliefs, that's when it's all over. It is truly doubt that kills our conviction.

Principles in a poor is admirable as politeness in a prince.

The one that loves you is worth more than the thousands that merely admire you.