Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“It had been years since he'd seen a woman handle a crowd of admirers so deftly- not since Lily in her gambling days. Fascinated, he wondered where the hell she had come from. He knew about all the new arrivals in London, and he'd never seen her before. She must be some diplomat's wife, or some exclusive courtesan. Her lips were red and pouting, her pale white shoulders enticingly bare above the blue velvet of her gown. She laughed frequently, tossing her head back in a way that caused her chestnut curls to dance. Like the other men present, Derek was captivated by her figure, the luscious round breasts, the tiny waist, all revealed by a well-fitted gown that was unlike the shapeless Grecian styles of the other women.
"A toast to the loveliest bosom in London!" Lord Bromley, a rakish ne'er-do-well, exclaimed. Titillated and excited, the crowd raised their glasses with a cheer. Waiters rushed to bring more liquor.
"Miss," one of them begged, "I entreat you to cast my dice for me."
"Whatever good luck I have is yours," she assured him, and shook the dice in the box so vigorously that her breasts quivered beneath their shallow covering. The temperature in the room escalated rapidly as a host of admiring sighs greeted the display. Derek decided to intervene before the crowd's mood became too highly charged. Either the vixen didn't realize the lust she was inciting, or she was doing it deliberately. Either way, he wanted to meet her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Dreaming of You

“[O]ur 'inferiors,' who love us...take pleasure in wounding us in our self-esteem.”
― Marcel Proust, The Captive / The Fugitive

“Friends are won through personal contact, but admirers are won through their contact with our works”
― Agona Apell, The Success Genome Unravelled: Turning men from rot to rock

“Gentlemen," Lily informed the room at large, "I came to tell you I must abandon the game to show my new guest 'round the house. Lansdale, perhaps you would take my place at the table?"
"He will, but not half so attractively," someone remarked. There were assorted chuckles around the room.
Lansdale, a middle-aged man of unusually short stature but possessing a handsome aquiline face, regarded Sara with bold interest. "Perhaps, Lady Raiford, you would keep to the billiards game and allow me to show your guest around."
Sara blushed at the suggestion, while several of the men laughed.
Rolling her eyes, Lily addressed a remark to Sara. "Watch out for that one, my lamb. In fact, don't trust a single of these men. I know them all, and I can vouch for the fact that underneath those attractive exteriors is a pack of wolves."
Sara could see how Lily's remark pleased the men, who clearly liked to think of themselves as predators, paunches and receding hairlines notwithstanding.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Dreaming of You

“A true admirer is also an artist.”
― Aryan Jain

“Stop constantly admiring someone or something, try to do something admirable, and you'll find it is much more fun!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan