Good Looking Guys Quotes

A lot of times you see really good-looking guys on TV and you sort of assume that maybe there's some sort of vacuity behind them. ~ Misha Collins

I'm always surrounded by good-looking guys, like Zac Efron, so I have to be with someone who's not going to get jealous about any of that, or when I'm kissing somebody in a scene. ~ Ashley Tisdale

My brother and I, we were both relatively good-looking guys growing up, but we had our awkward stages, where we were just hard to look at. ~ Dan Fogler

Are you for real?" She let out a short laugh, looking away. Why did so many good-looking guys have to be such douche canoes? "Man, you are something else."
"That I am."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"You sure about that?"
"Uh, yeah. I am."
"Hmm." He sounded utterly dismissive.
She had to force her hands to unclench. "I think you're the most uptight person I know."
"You know nothing about me."
"I know enough to know you need a hobby or a pastime. Maybe a different workout regimen to de-stress or you need to get laid. Something to loosen you up a bit."
His lips parted as he stared down at her. He looked affronted. Like if he had pearls, he'd be clutching them. "Did you seriously just tell me I needed to get laid?"
Rosie rolled her eyes. "Did you seriously just prove what I said?"
A moment passed. "Are you volunteering? ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I was bullied. I was a bit of a geek. Good-looking guys were off-limits. I didn't start dating until I was 18. ~ Michelle Ryan

I've met guys all the time that I'm like, Damn, that's a good-looking guy, you know? ~ Josh Hutcherson

I couldn't work my way into being a good-looking guy. ~ Stephen Dillane

Women tell me they won't date a guy with bad shoes. There are good-looking guys with good-looking outfits, and then really bad-looking square toe I-don't-even-want-to-mention-the-label kind of shoes. There is no reason for that. Again, invest in something that looks proper. A great pair of shoes can make your old outfit look great, too. ~ John Varvatos

My life doesn't change. I still have to go out and work hard every day and do the best that I can do. ~ Scott Eastwood

I don't think people talk to me because I'm such a good, charming, good-looking guy. I don't - whether that's true or not. I think they do it because I work for a major news organization, and they think that it can probably be helpful to them and their business interests or their personal interest and what have you. ~ Mark Leibovich

So it wasn't a total surprise that Jay would turn a few heads while they were out tonight. She just hadn't anticipated the power of the two of them together. Two good-looking guys more than doubled the attention they drew. Even among people they knew at the Java Hut that night, Violet and Chelsea became instantly invisible.
Girls not only noticed the pair of boys but also giggled behind cupped hands and waved at the two of them.
Jay was either unaware or chose to ignore them altogether. Mike, on the other hand, was not. And did not. Not only did he notice the interest he attracted, he seemed to enjoy it.
Violet recognized it immediately for what it was: Mike was as much an attention whore as Chelsea.
Violet was fine with that. Chelsea, not so much.
Violet let Jay draw her through the crowds that bottlenecked near the entrance. She liked knowing that he belonged to her while all those envious eyes looked on.
"I guess Chelsea's not the only one who's into Mike," Violet whispered while Jay dragged her over to stand in line at the counter.
Jay glanced back to where Chelsea stood on the outskirts of three girls from school who were animatedly chatting with Mike.
"Yeah. She's not doing too good, is she?" Jay agreed.
"I thought she'd have him eating out of her hand by now." Violet wrinkled her nose, worrying over her friend.
"You mean like you have me doing?"
Violet smiled up at him and then bumped him with her shoulder. "Yes. E ~ Kimberly Derting

It's something that I think I'm going to have to fight against for most of my career, for people to take me seriously as an actor as opposed to a good-looking guy. It's not what I want to be known as. ~ Armie Hammer

I'm a third generation Californian, and there's a lot of talented, good-looking guys in California, so I'm just happy to be working and lucky to be working. ~ Scott Eastwood

Damn him. Damn all good looking guys and their chin dimples and well-proportioned muscles and their hair that you want to touch so bad you can barely sit still.
Damn them all to the fiery pits of hell. ~ Chelsea M. Cameron

As an actor I'm part of a long line of character people you can take back to the silent movies. There's always the little guy who's the sidekick to the tall, good-looking guy who gets the girl. ~ Curtis Armstrong

She blinked. "Hmm? Oh, don't care. What did Anubis look like to you?"
"What did ... he looked like a guy. So?"
"A good-looking guy, or a slobbering dog-headed guy?"
"I guess ... Not the dog-headed guy."
"I knew it!" Sadie pointed at me as if she'd won an argument.
"Good-looking. I knew it!"
And with a ridiculous grin, she spun around and skipped into the house.
My sister, as I may have mentioned, is a little strange. ~ Rick Riordan

My wife Mariana is a good photographer too and, like me, she just picks up a camera and takes a picture when she sees something, rather than looking too deeply into it. ~ Graeme Le Saux

My goal is to achieve a little less injustice in Uruguay, to help the most vulnerable and to leave behind a political way of thinking, a way of looking at the future that will be passed on and used to move forward. There's nothing short-term, no victory around the corner. I will not achieve paradise or anything like that. What I want is to fight for the common good to progress. Life slips by. The way to prolong it is for others to continue your work. ~ Jose Mujica

Making good use of that room?" Lucius asked them, having a laugh with the trollop at his side. Oscar stood unwavering in the center of the hall, forcing Lucius to skirt around him.
"You're a pig," Camille replied, but he only squealed and snorted like a sow.
"Either of you figure out yet how we're going to get home?" Lucius asked. "Don't get me wrong. I'm perfectly content here for the time being."
A pair of sloppy-looking men stumbled through the front door, obviously drunk, and howling like wolves. Oscar stepped up beside Camille, blocking her from their view. His shoulders and chest were the perfect shield against whatever misguided attentions the men might show her.
"When did you become concerned about the three of us sticking together?" she asked Lucius. "We haven't set eyes on you since you disappeared into the orlop deck of the Londoner."
Lucius nodded over his shoulder. "I'm being nursed back to health, can't you see?"
She glared at him. Why someone like Lucius had survived the shipwreck instead of a worthier person like her father angered her. Maybe she really was cursed.
"You don't have a plan, do you?" Lucius asked Oscar, who continued to block Camille from the two men anxiously waiting by the front door for someone to greet them. Lucius snorted a laugh. "Should'a guessed as much."
Oscar took a step forward, pressing Camille between his chest and Lucius's.
"What do you mean by that?"
Lucius laced his fingers togethe ~ Angie Frazier

Damn it," the man facing her muttered. "Who are you?"
"Lady Pandora Ravenel. I'll tell them..." Her voice trailed away as she found herself looking up at an arrogant young god, tall and big framed, every line of him taut with feline grace. The tiny pendant lamp overhead sent sunstruck golden glints playing among the thick, well-cut layers of his amber hair. His eyes were winter-blue, his cheekbones high and straight, the line of his jaw hard enough to chisel marble. The full, sensuous curves of his lips lent a note of erotic dissonance to his otherwise classic features. One glance at him was enough to make her feel as if she were trying to breathe at high altitude. What would it do to a man's character to be so inhumanly beautiful? It couldn't be anything good. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I must exist in shadows, while you live under exquisitely blue skies, and yet I don't hate you for the freedom that you take for granted-although I do envy you.
I don't hate you because, after all, you are human, too, and therefore have limitations of your own. Perhaps you are homely, slow-witted or too smart for your own good, deaf or mute or blind, by nature given to despair or to self-hatred, or perhaps you are unusually fearful of Death himself. We all have burdens. On the other hand, if you are better-looking and smarter than I am, blessed with five sharp senses, even more optimistic than I am, with plenty of self-esteem, and if you also share my refusal to be humbled by the Reaper ... well, then I could almost hate you if I didn't know that, like all of us in this imperfect world, you also have a haunted heart and a mind troubled by grief, by loss, by longing. ~ Dean Koontz

The plea of good intentions is not one that can be allowed to have much weight in passing historical judgment upon a man whose wrong-headedness and distorted way of looking at things produced, or helped to produce, such incalculable evil; there is a wide political applicability in the remark attributed to a famous Texan, to the effect that he might, in the end, pardon a man who shot him on purpose, but that he would surely never forgive one who did so accidentally. ~ Theodore Roosevelt

When we talk about the big bang or the fabric of space, what we are doing is not a continuation of the free and fantastic stories that humans have told nightly around campfires for hundreds of thousands of years. It is the continuation of something else: of the gaze of those same men in the first light of day looking at tracks left by antelope in the dust of the savannah - scrutinising and deducting from the details of reality in order to pursue something that we can't see directly but can follow the traces of. In the awareness that we can always be wrong, and therefore ready at any moment to change direction if a new track appears; but knowing also that if we are good enough we will get it right and will find what we are seeking. That is the nature of science. ~ Carlo Rovelli

I was amazed to go Oscar and win it. It was fantastic getting up on the stage there and looking down. I thought, "That guy looks like Steve Martin, and that guy's like Arnold Schwarzenegger." But it was Steve Martin, and it was Arnold Schwarzenegger. Then they have this terrible kind of conveyor belt backstage - literally - where they take you to this big hangar where the world's press are gathered, and they make you stand on a stage, and they introduce you. ~ Peter Capaldi

Ladies and gentleman of Florida, this is the real Jeff Ament ... take a very good look because there's an imposter running around ... if someone comes up to you and says he's Jeff Ament and says he wants to take your pot or wants to take you to a strip club, it's probably not him. ~ Eddie Vedder

That same day we drove to Seville to celebrate. I asked someone for the name of the smartest hotel in Seville. Alfonso XIII, came the reply. It is where the King of Spain always stays.
We found the hotel and wandered in. It was amazing. Shara was a little embarrassed as I was dressed in shorts and an old holey jersey, but I sought out a friendly-looking receptionist and told her our story.
"Could you help us out? I have hardly any money."
She looked us up and down, paused--then smiled.
"Just don't tell my manager," she whispered.
So we stayed in a $1,000-a-night room for $100 and celebrated--like the King of Spain.
The next morning we went on a hunt for a ring.
I asked the concierge in my best university Spanish where I would find a good (aka well-priced) jeweler.
He looked a little surprised.
I tried speaking slower. Eventually I realized that I had actually been asking him where I might find a good mustache shop.
I apologized that my Spanish was a little rusty. Shara rolled her eyes again, smiling.
When we eventually found a small local jeweler, I had to do some nifty subcounter mathematics, swiftly converting Spanish pesetas into British pounds, to work out whether or not I could afford each ring Shara tried on.
We eventually settled on one that was simple, beautiful--and affordable. Just.
Love doesn't require expensive jewelry. And Shara has always been able to make the simple look exquisite.
Luckily. ~ Bear Grylls

It's just weird that out of nowhere God said, May the three best-looking guys in Hollywood have babies - Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and me. It was bizarre that God said, I want to make the planet more beautiful, and I got the call. ~ Adam Sandler

To her complete bafflement, instead of continuing his attack, Ian Thornton turned around and met her stormy eyes, an odd expression on his handsome face. "I apologize, Elizabeth," he said grimly. "My remarks were uncalled for." And on that amazing note he strode off, saying that he intended to spend the day hunting.
Elizabeth tore her startled gaze from his departing back, but the vicar continued staring after him for several long moments. Then he turned and looked at Elizabeth. An odd, thoughtful smile slowly dawned across his face and lit his brown eyes as he continued gazing at her. "Is-is something amiss?" she asked.
His smile widened, and he leaned back in his chair, beaming thoughtfully at her. "Apparently there is," he answered, looking positively delighted. "And I, for one, am vastly pleased."
Elizabeth was beginning to wonder if a tiny streak of insanity ran in the family, and only good manners prevented her from remarking on it. Instead she stood up and began clearing the dishes. ~ Judith McNaught

Good-looking people attract other good-looking people, and we want to market to cool, good-looking people, ~ Mike Jeffries

Gilgamesh, where are you hurrying to? You will never find that life for which you are looking. When the gods created man they allotted to him death, but life they retained in their own keeping. As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the lot of man. ~ Anonymous

The principal thing is the question of how our culture views age: that old is ugly. Take a photographer like Mapplethorpe. Every single photograph of his is about classical notions of beauty, of young beautiful black men, young beautiful women, and he selects subjects who are essentially interesting and good-looking and extremely physical. I can't stand them. ~ John Coplans

How long since he'd been back home? Ten years? Fifteen? He'd stopped keeping track around the time he'd finally stopped looking over his shoulder. At the time, leaving had seemed too good to be true. He'd spent months feeling like he was half a step ahead of some nameless specter; like if he let his guard down, even for a second, whatever it was would drag him right back where he'd come from. ~ Laura Oliva

I missed all the good stuff," I said, looking down at the gardens awash in early-morning light and cops. "Such as the gurney with the body bag? ~ Roberta Pearce

No, how do you know I'm good? Can you really just tell by looking at someone?' What if someone could see the goodness inside people, in colors, how I see electricity? ~ Leah Thomas

I am looking at you and you are looking at me. This is very good. I am looking and I am liking. You are looking and you are thinking, 'I hope she doesn't hit me with her crop.' But that is because I am me and you are you. ~ Louise Rennison

And why can't I have an ignore button like my phone? As I hit it, his calls disappear from the screen and the ringing stops. But the tingles are still at my fingertips, as if he sent them through the phone to grab me. Shoving it in my purse-the pockets on skinny jeans must just be for show 'cause nothing else is fitting in there-I smile at Mark.
Ah, Mark. The blue-eyed, blond-haired, all-American quarterback. Who knew he had a crush on me all these years? Not Emma McIntosh, that's for dang sure. And not Chloe. Which is weird, because Chloe was a collector of this kind of information. Maybe it's not true. Maybe Mark's only interested in me because Galen was-who wouldn't want to date the girl who dated the hottest guy in school? But that's just fine with me. Mark is...well, Mark isn't as fantabulous as I always imagined he would be.
Still, he's good-looking, a star quarterback, and he's not trying to hook me up with his brother. So why am I not excited?
The question must be all over my face because Mark's got his eyebrow raised. Not in a judgmental arch, more like an arch of expectation. If he's waiting for an explanation, his puny human lungs can't hold their breath long enough for an answer.
Aside from not being his business, I can't exactly explain the details of my relationship with Galen-fake or otherwise. The truth is, I don't know where we can go from here. He ripped holes in my pride like buckshot. And did I mention he broke my heart?
He's not ~ Anna Banks

Remind me again why I followed you out here?"
Answer: Because curiosity killed the cat, Scarlett. You followed a good-looking stranger out into the dark and look where it got you – on the front porch, in the bitter cold.
"Don't beat yourself up about it – any one of those girls would have followed me out here, too."
Oh brother, he's modest too? "And why do you suppose that is?"
His broad shoulders shrug and damn, he must be freezing his ass off. "Captain of the baseball team. Handsome as fuck. Funny as hell."
"I don't…wow. I don't even know how to respond to that."
He gives me a tight-lipped smile. "It's a lot to take in all at once. ~ Sara Ney

we try looking there?" "Good idea," Rachel said, walking toward it. "Oh, aren't the trees beautiful with all their blossoms?" The others agreed. Delicate sprays of pinky-white flowers lined the branches of the apple trees. "And that one is even prettier than the others," Kirsty said, pointing out a tree a short distance away. It was covered in blossoms. "I wonder why it's flowering so well?" A thought struck her and she stopped. Kirsty looked excitedly at Tia. "You don't think it has anything to do with your petal's magic powers, do you?" Tia's eyes lit up. ~ Daisy Meadows

Dodo!" exclaimed Celia, looking after her in surprise. "I never heard you make such a comparison before." "Why should I make it before the occasion came? It is a good comparison: the match is perfect. ~ George Eliot

If you look good, you feel good ~ Sophie Kinsella

At 13, I was a big, totally uncoordinated, hopeless football player. I responded to somebody else's rules, and I stayed just good enough to get a scholarship to Columbia, which was looking for scholar-athletes. ~ Brian Dennehy

Hiya, cutie! How was your first day of school?" She pops the oven shut with her hip.
He shakes his head and pulls up a bar stool next to Rayna, who's sitting at the counter painting her nails the color of a red snapper. "This won't work. I don't know what I'm doing," he says.
"Sweet pea, what happened? Can't be that bad."
He nods. "It is. I knocked Emma unconscious."
Rachel spits the wine back in her glass. "Oh, sweetie, uh...that sort of thing's been frowned upon for years now."
"Good. You owed her one," Rayna snickers. "She shoved him at the beach," she explains to Rachel.
"Oh?" Rachel says. "That how she got your attention?"
"She didn't shove me; she tripped into me," he says. "And I didn't knock her out on purpose. She ran from me, so I chased her and-"
Rachel holds up her hand. "Okay. Stop right there. Are the cops coming by? You know that makes me nervous."
"No," Galen says, rolling his eyes. If the cops haven't found Rachel by now, they're not going to. Besides, after all this time, the cops wouldn't still be looking. And the other people who want to find her think she's dead.
"Okay, good. Now, back up there, sweet pea. Why did she run from you?"
"A misunderstanding."
Rachel clasps her hands together. "I know, sweet pea. I do. But in order for me to help you, I need to know the specifics. Us girls are tricky creatures."
He runs a hand through his hair. "Tell me about it. First she's being nice and coopera ~ Anna Banks

You sayin' you want to go?"
"Don't you?"
"Hell no!"
"Okay,I'll tell Matt and Jared that they can go to Paris without us."
The only response was stunned silence, and I finally turned to smile at him. "Do you want to reconsider?" I asked.
"The wedding's in Paris?"
"Yep."
His dark eyes were huge, and I could see so much in them. He was excited, almost giddy. I could see it bubbling up in him, but he was trying t stay calm and not get his hopes up. "Can we afford Paris?"
"No," I said, "but it doesn't matter. Cole's footing the bill."
He grabbed my shirt and pushed me back against the countertop, almost as if he was going to kiss me, but stopped short, looking into my eyes. "Are you serious?"
"Would I lie to you about something like this?"
"No."
"Do you think I'd make it up just to tease you?"
"No."
"Yes."
He backed up a step. "Yes what?"
he asked.
I could hardly keep from laughing that I'd finally managed to turn the tables on him with his own backward form of communication. "Yes, I'm absolutely serious. Cole offered to fly us all to Paris."
...
His expression was so full of hope, I thought it was a good thing I hadn't tried to say no. He put his hand against my cheek and looked into my eyes. "Tell me what you want to do."
All I had to do was tell him the truth. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and said, "I want to do whatever will make you happy."
He smiled at me, the huge, ~ Marie Sexton

I am an urchin, standing in the cold, elbowed aside by the glossy rich visitors in their fur coats and ostentatious jewellery, being fussed into the hotel by pompous-looking doormen.
'No problem. I'd better get home, actually Mr – Gustav. A drink is very tempting, but maybe not such a good idea after all.' I pat my pockets. 'And I'm skint.'
'Pavements not paved with gold yet, eh?' He moves on along the facade of the grand hotel to the corner, and waits. He's staring not back at me but down St James Street. I wage a little war with myself. He's a stranger, remember.
The newspaper headlines, exaggerated by the time they reach the office of Jake's local rag: Country girl from the sticks raped and murdered in London by suave conman.
Even Poppy would be wagging her metaphorical finger at me by now. Blaming herself for not being there, looking out for me. But we're out in public here. Lots of people around us. He's charming. He's incredibly attractive. He's got a lovely deep, well spoken voice. And he's an entrepreneur who must be bloody rich if he owns more than one house. What the hell else am I going to do with myself when everyone else is out having fun?
One thing I won't tell him is that my pockets might be empty, but my bank account is full.
'One drink. Then I must get back.'
He doesn't answer or protest, but with a courtly bow he crooks his elbow and escorts me down St James. We turn right and into the far more subtle splendour of Dukes ~ Primula Bond

There was major u.s. imperialist support for Italian, Spanish and German fascism before and even during World War II, as opposed to support for fascism at home. Fascism was distinct from racism or white supremacy, which were only "as American as apple pie."
Neither the ruling class nor the white masses had any real need for fascism. What for? There was no class deadlock paralyzing society. There already was a longstanding, thinly disguised settler dictatorship over the colonial proletariat in North America. In the u.s. settlerism made fascism unnecessary. However good or bad the economic situation was, white settlers were getting the best of what was available. Which was why both the white Left and white Far Right alike back then in the 1930s were patriotic and pro-American. Now only the white Left is.
The white Left here is behind in understanding fascism. When they're not using the word loosely and rhetorically to mean any repression at all (like the frequent assertions that cutting welfare is "fascism"! I mean, give us a break!), they're still reciting their favorite formula that the fascists are only the "pawns of the ruling class". No, that was Nazism in Germany, maybe, though even there that's not a useful way of looking at it. But definitely not here, not in that old way.
The main problem hasn't been fascism in the old sense – it's been neocolonialism and bourgeois democracy! The bourgeoisie didn't need any fascism at all to put Leonard Peltier away in m ~ J. Sakai

It's just that most really good-looking people are stupid, so I exceed expectations.'
'Right, it's primarily his hotness,' I said.
'It can be sort of blinding,' he said.
'It actually did blind our friend Isaac,' I said.
'Terrible tragedy, that. But can I help my own deadly beauty?'
'You cannot.'
'It is my burden, this beautiful face.'
'Not to mention your body.'
'Seriously, don't even get me started on my hot bod. You don't want to see me naked, Dave. Seeing me naked actually took Hazel Grace's breath away,' he said, nodding toward the oxygen tank. ~ John Green

Was he really looking forward to it? They were usually a bit of anticlimax, these things. Stillit would do him good. Or serve him right ~ Colin Dexter

It's always struck me as funny that guys with scars get a reputation for being hard. It's the ones that cut them you should be looking out for, right? ~ Louise Welsh

Great wealth can make a man no happier than moderate means, unless he has the luck to continue in propsperity to the end. Many very rich men have been unfortunate, and many with a modest competence have had good luck. The former are better off than the latter in two respects only, whereas the poor but lucky man has the advantage in many ways; for though the rich have the means to satisfy their appetites and to bear calamities, and the poor have not, the poor, if they are lucky, are more likely to keep clear of trouble, and will have besides the blessings of a sound body, health, freedom from trouble, fine children, and good looks.
Now if a man thus favoured died as he has lived, he will be just the one you are looking for: the only sort of person who deserves to be called happy. But mark this: until he is dead, keep the word "happy" in reserve. Till then, he is not happy, but only lucky. ~ Herodotus

Paul liked to pick out the secretly cool people, people too cool to flash their coolness. The cool people were not always or even usually the same as the shiny people. Often someone shiny was too conventionally good-looking to be cool but they were still compelling, in terms of sheer wattage. Paul knew he wasn't good-looking enough to be shiny, but he could be cool in certain contexts. Cool was relational and conceptual; cool took work, cool was a meritocracy which, with all its flaws, he still preferred to the aristocracy of genetics. ~ Andrea Lawlor