How Vainly Men Themselves Amaze

In addition to having a well defined chin, the Prioress held wide-set blue eyes, slender-arched brows and heart-shaped red lips that seemed to smiled from under the boldness of a button nose. What was once a crone had regressed in age. Therefore, mouth still open, Audette creased her brow instinctively as felt she was no longer the prettiest thing in the forest. Focusing her

I enjoyed looking at her. She was a slender, small-breasted girl with an erect carriage, which she accentuated by throwing her body backward at the shoulder like a young cadet. Her gray sun strained eyes looked back at me with polite reciprocal curiosity out of a wan, charming, disconcerted face.” Nothing in those lines expresses the excitement and passion that a man whose truly attracted to a woman displays when they are interested and wants to date you. There was definitely no butterflies in his stomach for

Instead I find myself staring into a pair of oceans - one perfect, the other blemished by that tiny ripple. "You're very attractive." I've been complimented on my appearance before. But never in his tone of voice. Of all the things he's said, I don't know why this catches me off guard.

An example of this signpost is presented in the comment Mitchell had to Bowker about “moral” in the death of a young teenager. Ironically, 2) “You want my opinion, Mitchell Sanders said, there's a definite moral here.” Memory Moment: Lieutenant Cross interrupts the progress of the reading by a remembrance of a date he had with Martha. The phrase is important because it shows the devotion that Jimmy had on Martha.

‘Gave me one look, so ugly that it brought out the sweat on me like running.'

William is deeply in love with his wife. On this particular morning he describes his wife as a “small and dark woman who seemed to be smaller and darker at that time of the morning (Flight Patterns 55)”. Even though she has messy hair and wears baggy clothes he still can’t seem to get enough of her.

There was a couple named Kiowa and Muraco. They've been together for 8 years. They had a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Her name was Cherokee. Kiowa and Muraco loved Cherokee so much but they knew they couldn't keep Cherokee because they were poor. They had no money to take care of Cherokee. Everyday they struggled to find food and water. Days went by and Kiowa was starting to get sick. Each day it got worse and worse. Her skin was turning red, her eyes were puffy and she constantly coughed and sneezed. Kiowa told Muraco she didn't feel good and she felt like she was going to die soon. On the fourth day, Kiowa died and Muraco was left to raise Cherokee by himself. Muraco knew nothing about raising kids. He was scared. He didn't know what to do so he decided to find help.

On a warm summer night a very small child, who did not seem very special at first, was born. Nobody really payed attention to him until he started walking and talking. He was only eight months old when he started to walk. By the time he was one he walked straight out into the woods. He walked all the the way to a native tribe. When he came to the tribe he was yelling the name Sam. The natives took him in as their own.

For the first time since awakening from his coma, Clarence didn't feel ugly. He instead was flooded with happiness so intense that he swore it was the happiest he has ever felt in his life. He felt like he was the princely figure that this Beauty so much

“Yes, you there, that man er—young man I spoke to earlier,” she shrilled, clumsily trotting across the street. “Yes, you,” she panted, grasping hold of her centered, skirt slit and swiftly darting across the grass. “Oh it’s wet, the grass is moist,” she wailed. “Yes, you there,” she said again, pointing at me, nearing closer and clamoring up the porch steps. “Oh look, those are some beautiful, Ah—deadly roses!” she squawked, “I think they just made a ladder in my favorite tights.” Her face looked like it was going to sob again, but briskly, she straightened her stance and blew out a sharp breath. “I know,” she said breathlessly, “you're probably wondering what this horrendous woman is is doing in front of you and—oh my god, is this street full of supermodels!” her eyes shifted distractedly, gawking at Gemma. “You look like an angel. Your light, champagne blond hair is so gorgeous, and you're so lean and perfect—how tall are you? She quizzed Gemma.

For once, she wandered toward him with no children in tow. Today, she wore no linen coif, and her elbow-length, blond hair hung down loose. Percival had not realized how thick and glossy it was. And instead of wearing her typical nanny uniform of a stiff beige tunic dress, she wore a pale blue dress, more fitted at the top, and cinched at the waist with dark leather girdle belt. The belt accentuated the curve of her hips, and he color of her dress brought out the light honey color in her eyes. She was even more beautiful than he recalled, and in that instant, her presence was the balm he needed to soothe his agitated soul. He realized that he’d had but one brief interaction with her earlier in the day, yet her presence was exactly what he needed.

"You get better looking each time I see ya'. Where's that good-for-nothing husband of yours?"

The truth is, I don’t have anything to say to him, but when I look into his eyes they are so beautiful I can’t look away. Something he could never

The man, too, exhibits naïveté when he mentions, “Her beauty made me glad.” His observation of the girl is very innocent in that he brings attention to things as he notices them, much like a child. “Her hair was thick with many a curl/ That clustered round her head./ She had a rustic, woodland air,/ And she was wildly clad:/ Her eyes were fair, and very fair;” he says. With the repeating of, “Very fair,” it is as if he took sudden a closer look

Behind her—puffing and moaning, followed her husband—a tiny man; thin and weakly, his face death-white, his eyes small and bright and looking shy and uneasy.