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Her sensual eyes and her panting voice are still the same.
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Her and sensual
Her sensual performance in her English-language debut The Unbearable Lightness of Being ( 1988 ), directed by Philip Kaufman, launched her international career.
Her third studio album, Full Moon, saw Norwood abandon her teenage appeal for a more adult and sensual edginess.
Her distinctive and bold artistic style developed quickly ( influenced by what Lhote sometimes referred to as " soft cubism " and by Maurice Denis ' " synthetic cubism ") and epitomized the cool yet sensual side of the Art Deco movement.
Her " sexual ( or sensual ) aggression " is noted by Buffy studies writers.
Her sensual character is described magnificently in the aria V ' adoro, pupille, in which Cleopatra, in the guise of Lidia, appears to Cesare surrounded by the Muses of Parnassus ( II, 2 ).
Her early paintings were sensual and erotic, celebrating female sexuality from a woman's point of view.
Her portrayal of modern, sensual, independent, rebel woman in her films after Fahriye Abla won the hearts of Turkish filmgoers.
Her sensual side is brought out in the second act and she gradually warms up to the future.
Her and eyes
Her eyes were glazed as if she didn't hear or even see him.
) Her Nicolas lay curled in the sun like a fawn, black hair falling over his eyes.
Her eyes had opened, she had caught a glimpse of a new faith.
Her face was pale but set and her dark eyes smoldered with blame for Ben.
Her brother Karl was a very gentle soul, her mother was a quiet woman who said little but who had hard, probing eyes.
Her eyes flashed angrily.
Her eyes became bright as she talked about her father and mother, aunts and uncles, cousins.
Her eyes were bright with anticipation.
Her bright eyes were twinkling.
Her little brown face wrinkled up, her brown eyes gleamed, and with her little gestures she said all the courteous things.
Her eyes were wild.
Her eyes opened as soon as she heard me, though, and once again, I felt an inward shiver.
Her eyes were smiling, too, but so sadly, and there was tiredness and infinite wisdom in them.
James Hadley Chase wrote a few novels with private eyes as the main hero, including Blonde's Requiem ( 1945 ), Lay Her Among the Lilies ( 1950 ), and Figure It Out for Yourself ( 1950 ).
Her long, fine hair was dyed pale blonde, and her eyes, " brown as fir cones in autumn, scattered laughter ".
" Her combination of attractive appearance – centered around her large eyes – and somewhat distant and understated manner made her hard at first for MGM to cast and publicize.
* Her eyes twinkled like stars.
" Her mouth is too large and her eyes too prominent and colourless for beauty ", wrote a Venetian envoy as Catherine approached forty, " but a very distinguished-looking woman, with a shapely figure, a beautiful skin and exquisitely shaped hands ".
Her face narrows between the eyes, and the lower part of her face is still more narrow and slender than the forehead.
Her eyes are blackish-brown and deep.
Her eyes had filled with tears.
In My Life, Chagall described his first meeting her: " Her silence is mine, her eyes mine.
Her image was considered with more care ; although she continued to play character roles, she was often filmed in close-ups that emphasized her distinctive eyes.
Her eyes were grey, and her mouth was small ; her smile allowed her to demonstrate her wry humour, her wit, and her graciousness.
Her wavy hair was light brown in colour, and she had grey eyes and fair skin.
Her and her
Her blond hair was frowzy, her dress torn in several places, and her shoes were so completely worn out that they were practically no protection.
Her hat had come off and fallen behind her shoulders, held by the string, and he could see her face more clearly than he had at any time before.
Her own body protested, aching painfully where the blood in her veins had congealed, where cold demon wisps still clung and caressed.
Her impact in the zing commercials had led to her being considered for an excellent part in an upcoming TV series, Underwater Western Eye, a documentary-type show to be sponsored by Oatnut Grits.
Her form was silhouetted and with the strong light I could see the outlines of her body, a body that an artist or anyone else would have admired.
Her heart, her maternal feeling, in fact her being was too busy expressing itself, as quietly thrilled by this sight of her Nicolas curled asleep under a blanket, in a park like a scene from Poussin.
Her white blond hair was clean and brushed long straight down to her shoulders.
Her long thin arms moved in a slow rhythmical gesture over the family possessions which were placed in front of her.
Her clothes, her hair, everything about her is both graceful and simple.
Her mother called her Paus'l, a Luxemburg endearment meaning `` pussycat ''.
Her parents, pious Roman Catholics, christened her Mary Anne Elizabeth Magdalene Steichen.
Her mother, now dead, was my good friend and when she came to tell us about her plans and to show off her ring I had a sobering wish to say something meaningful to her, something her mother would wish said.
Her quarters were on the right as you walked into the building, and her small front room was clogged with heavy furniture -- a big, round, oak dining table and chairs, a buffet, with a row of unclaimed letters inserted between the mirror and its frame.
Her mother wrote Kate of her grief at the death of Kate's baby and at Jonathan's decision to go with the South `` And, dear Kate '', she wrote, `` poor Dr. Breckenridge's son Robert is now organizing a militia company to go South, to his good father's sorrow.
Her house stood on a rise of ground, and before she got into her car she looked at the houses below.
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