Quotes About Beauty

El hecho de que no se comprenda o se explique una cosa no termina con ella. Nada sé de las estrellas, pero las veo en el cielo, son la belleza de la noche.

O sol deixava cair sobre as ruas uma claridade macia, que não queimava, mas cujo calor acariciava como a mão de uma mulher.

Las almas como la de María ignoran el lenguaje mundano del amor; pero se doblegan estremeciéndose á la primera caricia de aquél á quien aman, como la adormidera de los bosques bajo el ala de los vientos.

Time, which despoils castles, enriches verses.

Ich hatte mit aller Macht meines schnell zirkulierenden Blutes gespürt, dass mein Tod diesen Baum nicht seiner strahlenden Schönheit berauben würde, dass er die Welt nur meines Blickes berauben würde. (I had felt with the might of my fast circulating blood that my death would not rob this tree of its irradiant beauty, it would only rob the world of my gaze.)

Now listen for the pines, the bloom, its glittering, the wild hacking of sea, bend in each stream, eddy of bend—listen—hear all skins raveling, unending—hear one skin clamp down upon what now is no longer missing. Here you are says a voice in the light, the trapped light. Be happy.

Really, when I think it over, literature has only one excuse for existing; it saves the person who makes it from the disgustingness of life.

He wanted, in short, a work of art both for what it was in itself and for what it allowed him to bestow on it; he wanted to go along with it and on it, as if supported by a friend or carried by a vehicle, into a sphere where sublimated sensations would arouse within him an unexpected commotion, the causes of which he would strive to patiently and even vainly to analyse.

et, en effet, si le plus bel air du monde devient vulgaire, insupportable, dès que le public le fredonne, dès que les orgues s'en emparent, l'œuvre d'art qui ne demeure pas indifférente aux faux artistes, qui n'est point contestée par les sots, qui ne se contente pas de susciter l'enthousiasme de quelques-uns, devient, elle aussi, par cela même, pour les initiés, polluée, banale, presque repoussante.

Elle devenait en quelque sorte, la déité symbolique de l'indestructible Luxure, la déesse de l'immortelle Hystérie, la beauté maudite, élue entre toutes par la catalepsie qui lui raidit les chairs et lui durcit les muscles; la Bête monstrueuse, indifférente, irresponsable, insensible, empoisonnant, de même que l'Hélène antique, tout ce qui l'approche, tout ce qui la voit, tout ce qu'elle touche.

Wahrhaftig, in solchen Zeiten wie diesen sind die Gärtner die einzigen, die echten Künstler.

It was still quite motionless and he felt it with his fingers; it was dead. Accustomed, no doubt, to an uneventful existence, to a humble life spent beneath its poor carapace, it had not been able to bear the dazzling splendor thrust upon it, the glittering cope in which it had been garbed, the gems with which its back had been encrusted, like a ciborium.

I once asked the servants why none of them had blue eyes like my aunts. They replied that only the ladies could afford to buy the blue glass cups in which they kept their eyes at night to make them more blue and beautiful, and furthermore, if we went on asking silly questions, the rats that steal the faces of inquisitive children in order to wear them as masks would come to take us to live in the twilit world between the ceiling and the roof where no one ever dared to go.

Andrés palpó la gasa delicadamente, llevándola hacia la ventana para mirar la luz que hería el recamado. Estuvo largo rato pensativo, examinando ese objeto vivo aún pero a punto de expirar, extendido levísimo en sus brazos, brillante en medio de todo el polvo.

Yo soy un hombre sincero De donde crece la palma, Y antes de morirme quiero Echar mis versos del alma. Yo vengo de todas partes, Y hacia todas partes voy: Arte soy entre las artes, En los montes, monte soy. Yo sé los nombres extraños De las yerbas y las flores, Y de mortales engaños, Y de sublimes dolores. Yo

Mi verso es como un puñal que por el puño, echa flor

Mientras mas honda la herida, Es mi canto mas hermoso. While more deeper is the wound The more beautiful the art.

La naturaleza es hermosa, que la vida es un deber, que la muerte no es fea, que nadie debe estar triste ni acobardarse mientras haya libros en las librerías, y luz en el cielo, y amigos, y madres.

Uç, küçük kuÅŸum. Ä°yice yükseklere uç. En yukar?lara ç?k ve Tanr?'n?n parma??na kon. Tanr? seni baÅŸka bir çocuÄŸa götürecek ve nas?l bana güzel ÅŸark?lar ÅŸak?d?ysan ona da ÅŸak?yacaks?n. HoÅŸça kal güzel kuÅŸum!...' Ä°çimde sonsuz bir boÅŸluk hissettim.

Didinha bir seferinde mutluluÄŸun 'yüreÄŸimizde parlayan bir güneÅŸ' olduÄŸunu söylemiÅŸti. GüneÅŸ her ÅŸeyi mutlulukla ayd?nlat?yordu. EÄŸer bu doÄŸruysa, her ÅŸeyi güzelleÅŸtiren ÅŸey göÄŸsümde p?r p?r eden yüreÄŸimdi.

Il y a tant de vieux arbres!

bundan sonra bana çiçek getirmeni istemiyorum.Sana özellikle çiçek verirlerse baÅŸka.Söz mü?' 'Söz.Ama bardak ne olacak? Hep boÅŸ mu kalacak?' 'Bu bardak bir daha boÅŸ kalmayacak.Ona bakt???mda,içinde hep yeryüzünün en güzel çiçeÄŸini göreceÄŸim ve bu çiçeÄŸi bana en iyi öÄŸrencim verdi diye düÅŸüneceÄŸim...

The idea of beauty, like a slab of magnificent marble, has crushed all possible refinement and vitality from the psychology of love.

A diferencia del poeta moderno, no vive aquejado por el ansia de originalidad. Sabe que su canto no es suyo sólo. La conciencia étnica, forjadora del mito, ha cumplido antes que él naciera, el trabajo principal; ha creado los objetos bellos. Su papel queda reducido a la escrupulosidad de un artífice.