Quotes About Beauty

She who loves roses must be patient and not cry out when she is pierced by thorns.

gathering flowers so very delicate a girl

Mere air, these words, but delicious to hear.

of all stars the most beautiful

For the man who is beautiful is beautiful to see but the good man will at once also beautiful be

As sometimes at sunset the rosyfingered moon surpasses all the stars. And her light stretches over salt sea equally and flowerdeep fields.

You are, I think, an evening star, of all the stars, the fairest…

And a sweet expression spreads over her fair face.

Stand to face me beloved And open out the grace of your eyes

The moon is set and the Pleiades; Middle of the night, time passes by, I lie alone.

for you beautiful ones my thought is not changeable

Nightingale, All you sing Is desire; You are the crier Of coming spring

I have a daughter who reminds me of A marigold in bloom. Kle

Dawn with arms of roses

Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers, others call a fleet the most beautiful of sights the dark earth offers, but I say it's what- ever you love best. . . . . But that reminds me: now my Anactória is gone, and I'd rather see her lovely step, her sparkling glance and her face than gaze on all the troops in Lydia in their chariots and glittering armor.

The gorgeous man presents a gorgeous view; The good man will in time be gorgeous, too.

Suddenly Dawn in gold sandals

I use to weave crowns

Leave Crete and sweep to this blest temple Where apple-orchard's elegance Is yours, and smouldering altars, ample Frankincense. Here under boughs a bracing spring Percolates, roses without number Umber the earth and, rustling, The leaves drip slumber. Here budding flowers possess a sunny Pasture where steeds could graze their fill, And the breeze feels as gentle as honey... Kypris, here in the present blend Your nectar with pure festal glee. Fill gilded bowls and pass them round Lavinshly.

I asked myself What, Sappho, can you give one who has everything, like Aphrodite?

Reminded me of Anaktoria, who is gone. I would rather see her lovely step and the motion of light on her face than chariots of Lydians or ranks of footsoldiers in arms.

Gaia, richly crowned, adorns herself in many hues.

Now in my heart I see clearly a beautiful face shining back on me, stained with love

Awed by her splendor Stars near the lovely moon cover their own bright faces when she is roundest and lights earth with her silver