A Quote by Courtney Stodden

Nothing feels sexier than wearing the beautiful truth. — © Courtney Stodden
Nothing feels sexier than wearing the beautiful truth.
I don't know a single woman in her 40s who isn't incredibly full of life and sexuality and desire for everything. There's nothing sexier than life experience, and there's nothing sexier than knowing your own body and having a little bit of experience with that.
Just be your authentic self because there's nothing sexier or more beautiful than that.
Inner beauty radiates from within, and there's nothing more beautiful than when a woman feels beautiful on the inside.
Nothing feels better than constructing a beautiful sentence.
A woman wearing a revealing dress will always be sexier than a naked woman.
There's nothing sexier than a lapsed Catholic.
There's nothing sexier in a man than intelligence.
I think there is nothing sexier than a handlebar moustache.
I think there is nothing sexier than laughter lines.
There is nothing nicer than playing someone who is cooler, tougher, more virtuous and sexier than yourself and thinking, 'I can be anyone.
There is nothing nicer than playing someone who is cooler, tougher, more virtuous and sexier than yourself and thinking, 'I can be anyone.'
To me, there's nothing sexier than a guy in a well-tailored suit.
I don't want to discount the beautiful work that the fashion houses do, but somehow, just focusing on what you're wearing feels reductive.
If wearing a weave is what makes you feel beautiful, if wearing a wig, if wearing your hair pink, blue, that's what matters, in my opinion.
In our program, the truth is the basis of all we do. There is nothing more important than the truth because there's nothing more powerful than the truth. Consequently, on our team, we always tell each other the truth. We must be honest with one another. There is no other way.
There is nothing more humanly beautiful than a woman's breasts. Nothing more humanly beautiful, nothing more humanly mysterious than why men should want to caress, over and over again, with paintbrush or chisel or hand, these oddly curved fatty sacs, and nothing more humanly endearing than our complicity (I mean the complicity of women) in their obsession.
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