Quotes About Beauty

Find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again

I had fallen in love with her, flash of gold and sunlight and Rome.

Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.

She said it out loud, the words distributed into a room that was full of cold air and books. Books everywhere! Each wall was armed with overcrowded yet immaculate shelving. It was barely possible to see paintwork. There were all different styles and sizes of lettering on the spines of the black, the red, the gray, the every-colored books. It was one of the most beautiful things Liesel Meminger had ever seen. With wonder, she smiled. That such a room existed!

The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips.

I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.

Each night, Liesel would step outside, wipe the door, and watch the sky. Usually it was like spillage - cold and heavy, slippery and gray - but once in a while some stars had the nerve to rise and float, if only for a few minutes. On those nights, she would stay a little longer and wait. Hello, stars.

There were stars. They burned my eyes.

And they would all smile at the beauty of destruction.

Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheeks. They look drawn on, and for some reason, when I see them, I want to cry. It is not for any sadness or pride. I just like the way they move and change. Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

I watch the beauty for as long as I can, then turn and face the rest of it.

It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.

It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.

The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like clouds, and she would ring them out like the rain.

The water crumbles on it's way down as my hands and feet push me forward. The world is lightening, taking shape, and turning to color. It feels like it's being painted around me.

El corazón de los humanos no es como el mío. El de los humanos es una línea, mientras que el mío es un círculo y poseo la infinita habilidad de estar en el lugar apropiado en el momento oportuno. La consecuencia es que siempre encuentro humanos en su mejor y en su peor momento. Veo su fealdad y su belleza y me pregunto cómo ambas pueden ser lo mismo. Sin embargo, tienen algo que les envidio: al menos los humanos tienen el buen juicio de morir. - La Muerte

Beautiful women are the torment of my existence.

Liesel crossed the bridge over the Amper River. The water was glorious and emerald and rich. She could see the stones at the bottom and hear the familiar song of water. The world did not deserve such a river.

She gathered the books like clouds and words poured down like rain.

Shadows of cloud lurked in the water, like holes the sun forgot about.

Lua and Marie are holding hands. They look like they're so happy, just inside this moment, watching the kids and the lights on their old fibro house. Lua kisses her. Just softly on the lips. And she kisses back. Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.

We're silent now, both waiting, till I remind myself that I'm the older one and should therefore initiate conversation. But I don't. I don't want to waste this girl with idle chitchat. She's beautiful.

Papa!" she whispered. "I have no eyes!" He patted the girl's hair. She'd fallen into his trap. "With a smile like that," Hans Hubermann said, "you don't need eyes.