As a child, I grew up looking up to my older sister for her courage.

The good looking volunteer helped organize the charity run.

She peered into the antique looking glass and felt as if she had stepped into another century.

I smiled at the party, but I felt on the outside looking in.

She was looking around the old station, trying to find a familiar face.

She was looking round the old house when she found a hidden letter.

Everyone at the party noticed how good-looking she was.

She polished the antique looking-glass until it reflected the candlelight as if it were new.

The old shop window displayed a row of antique looking glasses that reflected the street's bustle.

At first she was looking like she would refuse, but then she smiled and agreed.