If your partner is consistently unhappy, it won't matter if they're incredibly sexy, wildly funny, impressively successful, adorably charismatic - your relationship will be weighed down under the heaviness of their moods.
I'm a little sheepish about it. Whenever I meet fans and they're like, 'Oh, you're so sexy,' I just don't get that. There's no way one man can be universally sexy.
It's not that I don't want a fast car. I like the speed. I'm just not the type of person who finds a sports car a sexy car.
There is nothing cooler than having lines like, 'Batman, the fate of the world is upon us.' Who gets to say that? And who gets to say that in a deep, earnest, amazingly sexy way?
Sexiness should not be overt. Something shapeless that drapes across your hip, hangs off the shoulder; something that cowls in the front, drapes low in the back, that's sexy.
I started riding the whole 'fluffy' train, and it's a cute word and socially a lot more acceptable than someone saying is fat or obese. If you call a girl 'fat,' yo, she'll raise hell, but if you say, 'Aw girl, look at you, you're fluffy,' there's almost a sexy appeal to it.
I think there's something incredibly sexy about a woman wearing her boyfriend's T-shirt and underwear.
I have never been vain. I don't take myself seriously. I don't consider myself sexy or good-looking.
My whole thing is being sexy without showing too much, because that's my comfort level.
Hockey seems completely lawless and, therefore, inexplicably sexy.
I love Rag & Bone, Dior, and Valentino; I like feminine, sexy things. Dolce & Gabbana and Chanel, too.
I went to department stores, and there was nothing that I really loved. All the shoes were too complicated, too crazy, too ridiculous, too extreme. The platforms were so high; the shoes were so ugly, covered in crystals and feathers and crap. I just thought, 'Maybe somebody wants a beautifully simple, sexy shoe that they can actually walk in.'