Quotes About Beauty

My mother, along with Papa's other eventual wives - Pauline, Marty Gelhorn, Mary Welch - they all, at one time or another, no matter how angry they were at him at the moment, said, 'Look, Papa is special. He writes so beautifully. We have to let this go on.'

Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day - like writing a poem or saying a prayer.

Writing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.

To borrow from the writings of a spider named Charlotte: 'Silk is terrific!'

In writing, I try to find the right balance between momentum and infinity, truth and beauty.

The beauty of the day is the only thing that doesn't fade in time. Day after day, such beauty revives itself.

Galinda didn't see the verdant world through the glass of the carriage; she saw her own reflection instead. She had the nearsightedness of youth. She reasoned that because she was beautiful she was significant, though what she signified, and to whom, was not clear yet...She was, after all, on her way to Shiz because she was smart. But there was more than one way to be smart.

Everyone has a right to love the land that gave them the things they need to live. It gives them beauty to look at, and food to eat, and neighbors to bicker with and then eventually to marry. But I think... that your own devotion to your familiar homeland should inspire you to allow other people to embrace their homelands as beautiful too.

I do not deny that you overwhelm me with your beauty. You are the moon in the season of shadow light; you are the fruit of the candlewood tree; you are the phoenix in circles of flight --.

But there was the mirror in which I would glimpse his handsome form, because mirrors don't lie about men, only women.

Aren't these the finest treasures? Each one springs up, and becomes more red than rubies, more fine than diamonds adn more valuable, so we are told; and before you can run back here again to look, the petals have begin to drop and the leaves to yellow. Look, they sag, they fall. Are they the more wonderful because they live such a short time.

I was quite a looker in my time, she said. Was she reading his mind, or only being smart, to know she must be hideous? Oh, had they invented time as long ago as that?

She added, perhaps to herself, You have to become old and ugly before anyone listens to you, and then they don't, because you're ugly and old.

Blogis nÄ—ra negeri poelgiai, o tai, kaip bjauriai po to jautiesi.

Chovia bastante naquela manhã. A luz tinha um tom acinzentado e musguento devido às nuvens baixas. Teve de admitir que a menina não era um cadáver. Estava viva. Talvez tivesse nascido gelada, mas agora estava viva. Ainda suja com o sangue do nascimento e o início aguado das suas fezes, Liir levou-a até à porta e ergue-a para a chuva. Lavada, revelou-se verde.

She reasoned that because she was beautiful she was significant, though what she signified, and to whom, was not clear to her yet.

O beautiful, to make escape And leave this world behind. Had I to stay another day I'd lose my fucking mind!

Beauty is no end in itself, but if it makes our lives less miserable so that we might be more kind—well, then, let's have beauty, painted on our porcelain, hanging on our walls, ringing through our stories. We are a sorry tribe of beasts. We need all the help we can get.

If one could drown in the grass, thought Elphie, it might be the best way to die.

The small gesture of charity? Isn't that sort of beauty more beautiful than any other?" "And equally evanescent," says the Master, "for small charities cannot this wicked world amend. But perhaps charity is the kind of beauty that we comprehend the best because we miss it the most.

I came here to propose that we meet from time to time. That we meet as friends. That, free of expectations, we come to know each other as dear friends. I do not deny that you overwhelm me with your beauty. You are the moon in the season of shadowlight; you are the fruit of the candlewood tree; you are the phoenix in circles of flight. You are the mythical sea.

Oh, mercy, there is nothing monstrously ugly about you. Ruth may be unpleasing, but you are merely plain. If anything, it's my beauty that's monstrous, for it sweeps away any other aspect of my character.

Galinda didn't see the verdant world through the glass of the carriage; she saw her own reflection instead. She had the nearsightedness of youth. She reasoned that because she was beautiful she was significant, though what she signified, and to whom, was not clear to her yet.

Still, there is no law that says all decent things must be permanent. Perhaps family itself, like beauty, is temporary, and no discredit need attach to beauty, is temporary, and no discredit need attach to impermanence.