欧宝娱乐

“I gang my own gait and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart; in the face of all these ties I have never lost an obstinate sense of detachment, of the need for solitude 鈥� a feeling which increases with the years.”
― Albert Einstein, The World As I See It

“Our feet tell our stories. They carry us through this life, moving us from one sorrow and season to the next. Our gait can reveal us to be buoyant or bullish, dispirited or steadfast.”
― Cicely Tyson, Just as I Am

“As I rise from my seat, my notes almost fly to the floor. I quickly clutch them to my body before I awkwardly enter the interview room in a fucked-up-question-mark posture, walking as though I鈥檓 ten shits behind.”
― Danielle Esplin, Give It Back

“Walk like it's for sale and the rent is due tonight!”
― Miss J.

“I set off. What a gait. Stiffness of the lower limbs, as if nature had denied me knees, extraordinary splaying of the feet to the right and left of the line of march. The trunk, on the contrary, as if by the effect of a compensatory mechanism, was as flabby as an old ragbag, tossing wildly to the unpredictable jolts of the pelvis.”
― Samuel Beckett, First Love and Other Novellas

“That boorish man stole colour from a maiden's cheek to redden his ardour. She, with her prancing panther's gait and proud, undulating beauty, revelled in her existence and left him foolishly in her wake.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Her gait was such that the fall of her sari acquired the rhythmic grace of the loom on which it was weaved.”
― B.S. Murthy, Benign Flame: Saga of Love

“Swung by the swing of her seat in her tantalizing gait, her hair in plait pictured a pendulum that caressed her bottom.”
― B.S. Murthy, Benign Flame: Saga of Love

“It was a heavier breed than the ones she had seen so far, handsome white mare with a short, muscular neck, wide shoulders, and a hawklike profile that implied strength and nobility. Her mane and tail were golden brown, and wavy, as if they had been braided and then brushed. Her gait was clean and crisp, and she bore her rider, a tall man with long legs, as if he weighted nothing at all.
Suddenly England was interesting. This mare would be perfect to cross with Black Satin, if the obstacle of the Atlantic Ocean could be overcome. She was sturdy. She appeared to have a level disposition, paying no attention to the other mounts who passed her or the rattle and bang of the occasional landau. She carried herself beautifully, with a nice balance between the set of her head and the movement of her hindquarters. She held her silken tail high, a sure sign of joy and pride.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Age of Witches