Handsome Quotes

“Hard. That was what he looked like. That was what you first noticed about him: a hard, chiselled face, like that that of some ancient Greek statue.”
― Robert Thier, Storm and Silence

“Taken from the dedication in my debut novel Exactly 23 days. To honour all women on International Women's day.

For women everywhere: When you know you are finally mended, spread the word, hold out your hand, share some love from your heart and some laughter from your soul and be there for a new member of the sisterhood who needs your help. Let's all help our sisters worldwide to stand tall and know, they can and they will recover, survive and thrive, to live the life they deserve.
To all the sisters who reached out and held my hand in whatever way you could, who cried my tears with me, and laughter my laughter too, I thank every one of you. I survived.”
― Jayne Higgins, Exactly 23 Days

“There’s a guy there too, sitting in an armchair across from me with a glass coffee table between us. He’s maybe three or four years older than me, and he looks like he has just stepped off a GQ cover, with his thick wavy dark hair, square jaw, flawless smooth skin, and elegantly tailored suit that does a lot for his tall athletic frame. Aside from Grayson, he’s probably one of the most handsome guys I’ve met in person. - Celestra Caine about Jack Simple, FADE by Kailin Gow”
― Kailin Gow, Fade

“You take a very handsome guy, or a guy that thinks he's a real hot-shot, and they're always asking you to do them a big favor. Just because they're crazy about themself, they think you're crazy about them, too, and that you're just dying to do them a favor. It's sort of funny, in a way.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

“Don't let the devil fool you! Unless he's handsome.”
― Ljupka Cvetanova, The New Land

“...if you ever wanted to take a run at it, I'd say now's your time. There's hardly any competition, unless you count me. Though I am of course very handsome, even dead.”
― Amie Kaufman, These Broken Stars

“Instead of being regarded as intelligent or knowledgeable, many a woman would rather be regarded as beautiful or good in the kitchen; many a man, as handsome or good in bed.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“A miscreant with coiffed, scented hair, a slender waist, the hips of a woman and the chest of a Prussian officer, with a finely tied cravat, by all girls admired. ~ [introduction of character Montparnasse]”
― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

“Dr. Holmes came again. Large, fresh coloured, handsome, flicking his boots, looking in the glass, he brushed it all aside-headaches, sleeplessness, fears, dreams-nerve symptoms and nothing more, he said.”
― Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

“When it comes to their love lives, some people do not really have high standards; they merely have low sex drive.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“He wasn't like those handsome men you see on the fashion billboards. He was handsome in a rugged way like a wood cutter with an unkept beard or a man who just finished fixing the engine of his car, wiping his oily hands over his white flannel shirt. Like a man who knows that he has starry eyes that can bring stars closer but doesn't even bother to look.”
― Malak El Halabi

“Rich only matters if he marries you," I said grimly. "Handsome matters not at all.”
― Danielle Teller, All the Ever Afters: The Untold Story of Cinderella's Stepmother

“He was young, and his face, if not exactly handsome, approached so near to handsome that nobody would have contradicted an assertion that it really was so in its natural colour.”
― Thomas Hardy, The Return of the Native

“I'd like to make a twosome with two handsome trees. Make that a threesome as I'd also include a bush in the package, to keep it low profile.”
― Will Advise, Nothing is here...

“Some people would regard people who look like they do as ugly if they did not look like them.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“There is a look in his eye,
a heavy look that
makes him seem older,
as though in one night
he has lived one hundred lifetimes.
And it makes him appear
even more handsome.”
― Lisa Ann Sandell, Song of the Sparrow

“All these boys were lethal. It really wasn't fair.”
― Stacey Marie Brown, Darkness of Light

“For his part, Jazz knew he was handsome. It had nothing to do with looking in the mirror, which he rarely did. It had everything to do with the way the girls at school looked at him, the way they became satellites when he walked by, their orbits contorted by his own mysterious gravity. If attention could be measured like the Doppler effect, girls would show a massive blue shift in his presence. In the last year or so, he had even remarked the scrutiny of older women—teachers, cashiers at stores, the woman who delivered UPS packages to his house. What had once been a maternal flavor in their glances had taken on a lingering, cool sort of appraisal. He could almost hear them thinking, Not yet. But soon.
Despite his upbringing, despite the infamy of his father, they still watched him. Or maybe because of it. Maybe Howie was right about bad boys.”
― Barry Lyga, I Hunt Killers

“A pretty heart is more valuable than a pretty face.”
― Matshona Dhliwayo

“Wasn’t it correct in America to call a man ‘handsome’ rather than ‘beautiful’?”
― Edmund White, Our Young Man

“You know, When does a girl asks you for a selfie ?

When she got the solution to the biggest mathematical equation of this Society.”
― Balakoteswara Panchakshari

“For a moment Lottie couldn't speak as she stared up into his handsome face. Nature had been spendthrift with this man, bestowing him with bold, princely features and eyes as blue and intense as the heart of midnight. The cynicism in those eyes was a fascinating contrast to the touch of humor that lurked at the corners of his wide mouth. He looked to be about thirty- the time in a man's life when he surrendered the last vestiges of callowness and came fully to his maturity. No doubt women of all ages were instantly enthralled by him.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“She lifted her lantern high, and he allowed her to free him from the shadows, casting his face in warm, golden light. He had aged marvelously, grown into his long limbs and angled face. Penelope had always imagined that he'd become handsome, but he was more than handsome now... he was nearly beautiful.
If not for the darkness that lingered despite the glow of the lantern- something dangerous in the set of his jaw, in the tightness of his brow, in eyes that seemed to have forgotten joy, in lips that seemed to have lost their ability to smile.
He'd had a dimple as a child, one that showed itself often and was almost always the precursor to adventure. She searched his left cheek, looking for that telltale indentation. Did not find it.
Indeed, as much as Penelope searched this new, hard face, she could not seem to find the boy she'd once known. If not for the eyes, she would not have believed it was him at all.
"How sad," she whispered to herself.
He heard it. "What?"
She shook her head, meeting his gaze, the only thing familiar about him. "He's gone."
"Who?"
"My friend."
She hadn't thought it possible, but his features hardened even more, growing more stark, more dangerous, in the shadows. For one fleeting moment, she thought perhaps she had pushed him too far. He remained still, watching her with that dark gaze that seemed to see everything.”
― Sarah MacLean, A Rogue by Any Other Name

“Maybe he was not quite what he seemed to be…handsome, brilliant, and….
Crazy?
Like the Roman Emperors Caligula and Nero?
- Amazon Lee and the Ancient Undead of Rome by Kira G. and Kailin Gow”
― Kailin Gow, Kira G.

“She heard nothing but experienced a sensation that prickled along her spine like a warm touch caressing her skin. Slowly, with the care of prey beneath a predator's survey, she turned her head- and met the gaze of the elegant gentleman lounging at the door.
In her travels, she had seen many a striking and charming man, but none had been as handsome as this- and all had been more charming. This man was a statue in stark black and white, hewn from rugged granite and adolescent dreams. His face wasn't really handsome; his nose was thin and crooked, his eyes heavy lidded, his cheekbones broad, stark and hollowed. But he wielded a quality of power, of toughness, that made Eleanor want to huddle into a shivering, cowardly little ball.
Then he smiled, and she caught her breath in awe. His mouth... his glorious, sensual mouth. His lips were wide, too wide, and broad, too broad. His teeth were white, clean, strong as a wolf's. He looked like a man seldom amused by life, but he was amused by her, and she realized in a rush of mortification that she remained standing on the stool, reading one of his books and lost to the grave realities of her situation. The reality that stated she was an imposter, sent to mollify this man until the real duchess could arrive.
Mollify? Him? Not likely. Nothing would mollify him. Nothing except... well, whatever it was he wanted. And she wasn't fool enough to think she knew what that was.
The immediate reality was that she would somehow have to step down onto the floor and of necessity expose her ankles to his gaze. It wasn't as if he wouldn't look. He was looking now, observing her figure with an appreciation all the more impressive for its subtlety. His gaze flicked along her spine, along her backside, and down her legs with such concentration that she formed the impression he knew very well what she looked like clad only in her chemise- and that was an unnerving sensation.”
― Christina Dodd, One Kiss From You

“I notice small things. I'm a "detail" guy, that's why I'm good at programming.”
― Holly Peterson, The Manny

“I noticed you are handsome..
Why don't you hand me some?”
― HonouriaBread

“Not very tall, not very dark but very...very handsome,’ was his way of describing himself.”
― Anurag Shourie, Half A Shadow

“He was handsome. For a white guy.”
― Joe Okonkwo, Jazz Moon

“Bakushan had only been open for a couple of months, but expectations were already sky-high. Still, few people had mentioned the food. Instead, everyone was writing about the up-and-coming chef, Pascal Fox. According to nearly every article, he'd dropped out of college and worked at top French restaurants around the world. Then, at twenty-five and on every "30 under 30" list in existence, he had received an offer to take over L'Escalier, a cathedral-ceilinged white-tablecloth institution in Midtown. But just as New York was ready to inaugurate him into a realm of Immortal Chefs synonymous with a certain level of luxurious precision, Pascal had said he would open a place on his own. He didn't have a location or a concept- or so he'd said in his interviews- just a conviction that he didn't want to fall into the trap of being yet another French chef at another fancy restaurant.
So there we were, in front of his brand-new place. It was hard to label it. I had read neo-modernist and Asian-American eclectic. The food was hard to pin down, but the inside was just cool, at least from my sidewalk vantage point. It was 5:45 and already there was a forty-five-minute wait for a spot at one of the communal, no-reservation tables.
I looked at the crowd while we waited and saw a couple of girls dressed in tight, short dresses. One of them held a food magazine with Pascal Fox's face on the cover against a blurred kitchen background. I stole a peek at the photo. His eyes were a deep black-brown with a streak of gold. His hair was charmingly messed up, longish bits going every which way, casting shadows on his sculpted cheekbones.
That was the other thing. Pascal was exceedingly good-looking. I hadn't paid attention to the hype around his looks, but seeing these girls swoon over his photo made his handsomeness hard to ignore. And... the pictures. I'm only human.”
― Jessica Tom, Food Whore