Quotes About Beauty

In me the tiger sniffs the rose. Look in my heart, kind friends, and tremble, Since there your elements assemble.

Before the Battle: Music of whispering trees Hushed by the broad-winged breeze Where shaken water gleams; And evening radiance falling With reedy bird-notes calling. O bear me safe through dark, you low-voiced streams. I have no need to pray That fear may pass away; I scorn the growl and rumble of the fight That summons me from cool Silence of marsh and pool, And yellow lilies islanded in light. O river of stars and shadows, lead me through the night.

O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

I keep such music in my brain No din this side of death can quell; Glory exulting over pain, And beauty, garlanded in hell.

They march from safety, and the bird-sung joy Of grass-green thickets, to the land where all Is ruin, and nothing blossoms but the sky

54. At Daybreak I LISTEN for him through the rain, And in the dusk of starless hours I know that he will come again; Loth was he ever to forsake me: He comes with glimmering of flowers 5 And stir of music to awake me. Spirit of purity, he stands As once he lived in charm and grace: I may not hold him with my hands, Nor bid him stay to heal my sorrow; 10 Only his fair, unshadowed face Abides with me until to-morrow.

Winged lovely moments, can I call you home?

Vision" I love all things that pass: their briefness is Music that fades on transient silences. Winds, birds, and glittering leaves that flare and fall— They fling delight across the world; they call To rhythmic-flashing limbs that rove and race… A moment in the dawn for Youth's lit face; A moment's passion, closing on the cry— 'O Beauty, born of lovely things that die!

I once made the mistake of going for a whole row of false eyelashes, which was just wrong as it gave me a sad, puppy-eyed look.

One day the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.

One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.

Dear sister—all other love is merely a reflection of the heavens in the puddles of a muddy road. You will become sullied too if you allow yourself to sink into it. But if you always remember that it's a reflection of the light from that other home, then you will rejoice at its beauty and take good care that you do not destroy it by churning up the mire at the bottom.

She walked as if through a forest. The pillars were furrowed like ancient trees, and into the woods the light seeped, colorful and as clear as song, through the stained-glass windows. High overhead animals and people frolicked in the stone foliage, and angels played their instruments. At an even higher, more dizzying height, the vaults of the ceiling arched upward, lifting the church toward God ... The song cut through her like a blinding light. Now she saw how deep in the dust she lay.

Joys come from simple and natural things; mist over meadows, sunlight on leaves, the path of the moon over water. Even rain and wind and stormy clouds bring joy.

I had always found comfort in the leaves, in their silence. They were like a parchment that holds words of wisdom. Simply holding them in my hand gave me some of the peace a tree possesses. To be like that-to just be-that's the most noble thing of all.

I wondered if we were put on this earth only to destroy every beautiful thing, to make chaos. Or were we meant to overcome this? Did bad things happen so that goodness could show through in people?

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aAlina Cerunda was pretty despite her seventy years. Anyone who says she wasn't is a liar. However, old people always look like they're in disguise, and that ruins everything.

If I were a tree I would be the tree you're seeing with its open crown, which will keep on growing.

I feel such sorrow when I think how horror imitates beauty.

Do you think I'm fat?" I asked him. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. "I think you're beautiful.

Get thee to a depilatory.

You're beautiful because when you were born, undiscovered planets lined up to peep over the rim of your cradle and lay gifts of gravity and light at your miniature feet

If Beauty called it didn't stay, & Virtue looked the other way. Another charge that I will file: your habits, like your looks, are vile.