Julianne Potter: What I mean, when I say annoyingly perfect, is that there is nothing annoying about her perfection. It's vulnerable and endearing...and that is annoying as shit. George Downes: Ahh...you like her... Julianne Potter: If I didn't have to hate her, I'd adore her.
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Quotes tagged ‘Adoration’
People that really know me, they adore me.
There’s no tomorrow without you.
I need to tell you How you light up every second of the day But in the moonlight You just shine like a beacon on the bay
You’ve got a good heart I like that about you. You’re always in trouble and I like that too.
I adored you. You were so soft, so diabolically angelic looking.
She is something new, something hopeful. Like spring to my deep winter.
She is beautiful in a way that makes people forget what they were going to say when they look at her.
How can it be that, linked to such suffering, her face is still the face of happiness for me?
I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds – but I think of you always in those intervals.
I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.
I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk.
I adore the struggle you carry in yourself. I adore your terrifying sincerity.
You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.
Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only faces in magazines. A lovely eloquence, a calming symmetry; none of that describes this woman's face. So perhaps I should assume I cannot do it justice with words. Suffice it to say that it would break your he…
There was no danger in taking her for granted. She was unique: there was something abnormal about her, and it was that abnormal something that made her magnetic.
She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.
Sometimes I touch the things you used to touch, looking for echoes of your fingers.
She was beautiful and bright like the sun and just as deadly.
Someone you haven’t met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.